Your presence greets me
like the wind arriving from a far-off storm
stirring and shimmering over the dark surface of the deep.
I open gratefully to my spirit’s return
and rise up again to a world recreated.
Soul of all that lives, eternal breath of the universe,
you are blessed,
restoring me to life this and every new morning.
Reader:
As in years before, we’ll soon proclaim, “Next year in Jerusalem!” But do we actually mean this? Do we really, truly believe that we will live to reach the Promised Land? Do we honestly expect to see the world we’ve been struggling for and dreaming of for so long? And if not, might these words be something more than merely the obligatory aspiration we recite at the end of every seder?
It’s worth considering that we may have already entered the Promised Land in ways we never stopped to realize: when we show up for our fellow strugglers, when we celebrate our victories along the way, when our efforts are infused with our highest values of justice and equity and sacrifice. And it is in these moments that we find ourselves dwelling in the world we’ve been fighting for all along. We’re experiencing the world we want to see because we’ve been creating it for one another.
Struggle is hard work, but if we view it exclusively as a means to an end, it will be only that. However, if we view struggle as an inherently sacred act, we may yet see the face of God in our comrades and those who have gone before us. We may come to understand that the world-to-come is not just a far-off dream. We may yet find we are living in the Promised Land in ways we have never truly understood before.
As we conclude our seder now, let us vow that these fleeting moments are a but glimpse of the possible beyond what we might ever have dared to imagine. Let us state unabashedly that next year will be the year we make Jerusalem – the city of wholeness and peace – not merely a hope, but a reality for all. From our narrow place to the wide-open spaces, let these words be our promise to one another:
We joyfully proclaim:
L’shanah haba’ah bi’rushalayim!
Next year in Jerusalem!
Al yisrael, ve’al rabbanan, ve’al talmideihon…
For our community, for our teachers and students:
those who receive and learn and hand down the teachings
of all who have gone before us;
For those who explain, those who discern,
those who make connections,
those who draw out the truths
patiently waiting to be revealed;
For those who challenge words that cause harm,
those who reinterpret, reframe and redeem meanings
that might otherwise lead us astray;
For those who learn through study and those who learn from experience,
those who learn from all peoples, cultures and traditions,
those who live out the wisdom they have gained,
who know that every conversation, every move, every breath
is a precious opportunity to learn Torah anew;
Y’hei l’hon ul’chon sh’lama raba, china, ve’chisda ve’rachamin…
May the source of all wisdom grant us abundant peace, loyalty
love and compassion,
and let us say,
Amen.
Gaza weeps alone.
Bombs falling without end
her cheeks wet with tears.
A widow abandoned
imprisoned on all sides
with none willing to save her.
We who once knew oppression
have become the oppressors.
Those who have been pursued
are now the pursuers.
We have uprooted families
from their homes, we have
driven them deep into
this desolate place,
this narrow strip of exile.
All along the roads there is mourning.
The teeming marketplaces
have been bombed into emptiness.
The only sounds we hear
are cries of pain
sirens blaring
drones buzzing
bitterness echoing
into the black vacuum
of homes destroyed
and dreams denied.
We have become Gaza’s master
leveling neighborhoods
with the mere touch of a button
for her transgression of resistance.
Her children are born into captivity
they know us only as occupiers
enemies to be feared
and hated.
We have lost all
that once was precious to us.
This fatal attachment to our own might
has become our downfall.
This idolatrous veneration of the land
has sent us wandering into
a wilderness of our own making.
We have robbed Gaza of
her deepest dignity
plunged her into sorrow and darkness.
Her people crowd into refugee camps
held captive by fences and buffer zones
gunboats, mortar rounds
and Apache missles.
We sing of Jerusalem,
to “a free people in their own land”
but our song has become a mockery.
How can we sing a song of freedom
imprisoned inside behind walls we have built
with our own fear and dread?
Here we sit clinging to our illusions
of comfort and security
while we unleash hell on earth
on the other side of the border.
We sit on hillsides and cheer
as our explosions light up the sky
while far below, whole neighborhoods
are reduced to rubble.
For these things I weep:
for the toxic fear we have unleashed
from the dark place of our hearts
for the endless grief
we are inflicting
on the people of Gaza.
It was my honor today to write and deliver this prayer at a Memorial Service/Action sponsored by the recently (re)created Chicago Union for the Homeless. The Winter Solstice (today) has been designated Homeless Person’s Memorial Day to remember those who have died homeless in the past year.
Following the service at Chicago’s Thompson Center, protesters carried a symbolic casket in a silent march in honor of the deceased. At City Hall, representatives from the Homeless Union presented a petition demanding immediate housing and adequate mental and physical health care for all homeless persons in the Chicago and Cook County.
This new liturgy is based on the traditional Jewish memorial prayer, El Male Rachamim:.
El male rachamim shochen bam’romim
ha’metzei menucha nechonah
tachat kanfei ha’shechinah.
God filled with compassion,
whose loving presence ever surrounds us
bring perfect rest to all who have died unhoused
those who have died on the streets, in tent cities
public parks and under viaducts.
Protect these precious souls
with the shelter they were denied in their lifetimes
gather them under the softness of your wings
show them love, bring them home.
Remind us that no one
is forgotten in your sight
that all are welcome at your table
that each and every one of their lives
is a story of sacred worth and meaning
that can never be lost.
May the memories of their lives
shine forth like the brilliance
of the skies above
as we rededicate ourselves
to their memories now.
Turn our grief and anger into resolve
fill us with strength and will and purpose
that we may once and for all
end this endless night.
Never let us forget
our sacred responsibility
to ensure that all are housed
and clothed and fed;
let us never stop fighting
for the basic essential dignity
of every living, breathing soul.
Ba’al ha’rachamim tastireihem
b’seter kanfecha le’olamim.
Source of all compassion,
inspire us to extend your shelter
across this land and throughout the world
that all may know the blessings
of safety and security now and forever.
V’nomar, and let us say,
Amen.
Celebrating the joy at the heart
of every triumph,
and the fortitude that follows every defeat
we offer our praise:
for those who danced in the streets,
for those who didn’t live to see the victory
but never gave in;
for those who toppled the tyrants,
for those who resisted the oppressor
knowing full well the cost;
for those who rededicated the Temple,
for those who learned how to live
in the wake of its destruction;
for those who made it home,
for those sustained
by the sweet dream of return;
for those who kindle the lights,
for those who meet your gaze
in the deep darkness;
for all these miracles and more,
we dedicate our lives
to those who fought before us;
sustaining us even when all strength is gone,
urging us on and on
until liberation is finally won.
Praise the world to come,
the world that might be.
Dream of it, fight for it
for it with every breath.
Pay no heed to the promises of tyrants
who care for nothing but their own power
who view humanity as expendable,
who stand guard over systems
designed to plunder and oppress.
All honor to those who summon
the strength to fight
until the battle is won,
who will not rest
until every soul is counted.
Blessed are those who
find hope in the struggle,
who remain faithful to the dream
of a world that is yet at hand:
the kingdom where justice reigns
for all generations,
where compassion flows
without cease.
To the One who urges us on
toward struggle and transformation:
never stop reminding us
just what is at stake
and what is expected of us
in the days and months ahead.
May our vote remind us of our power
to stand down those who govern
with fear and dread;
may it fill us with the vision and purpose
to build a power yet greater:
a power rooted in solidarity,
liberation and love.
May our vote give us the courage to know
that a just society is not beyond our grasp;
that we have the power to dismantle
systems of inequity and greed;
that we create a world in which
our wealth and resources are dedicated
toward the well-being of all.
May our vote make way for a world
free of racism and militarization,
a world where no one profits
off the misery of others,
a world where the bills owed
those who have been colonized,
enslaved and dispossessed
are finally paid in full.
May our vote remind us
that the struggle is never over;
and that when election day is done
no matter what the outcome,
we must never give up the fight
for the world we know is possible,
right here, right now,
in our own day.
May we never doubt
our ability to make a difference,
that we may transform your world
toward a future of equity,
of restoration, of justice,
for us, and for all who dwell on earth.
Amen.
Bless the fires kindled,
the energy generated,
the sparks igniting
the work of creation
day after day.
Bless the tasks completed
and the work unfinished;
the struggles ongoing,
the dreams of transformation
yet to be fulfilled.
Bless all you have made,
all you have created,
and let it go;
let it vanish into the past
like the sun sinking
behind the distant horizon.
Now bless your tired soul
in the sweet darkness
of this new day –
it’s time to enter
the world to come.
photo: Rafael Yaghobzadeh/AP/Shutterstock
To the One who demands justice:
inspire us to become rodfei tzedek,
pursuers of justice
in our lives and in our communities.
Give us the strength to resist power
wielded with fear and dread;
fill us with the vision and purpose
to build a power yet greater,
a power rooted in solidarity,
liberation and love.
Grant us the courage to dismantle
systems of oppression –
and when they are no more,
let us dedicate our wealth and resources
toward the well-being of all.
May we abolish all forms of state violence
that we might make way for a world
free of racism and militarization,
a world where no one profits
off the misery of others,
a world where the bills owed those who have been
colonized, enslaved and dispossessed
are finally paid in full.
Inspire us with the knowledge
that real justice is indeed at hand,
that we may realize
the world we know is possible,
right here, right now,
in our own day.
May our thoughts and our hopes,
our words and our deeds
guide us toward a future of reparation,
of restoration, of justice,
al kol yoshvei teivel
for all who dwell on earth,
amen.
Yedid Nefesh 