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Passover 2025

This spring I had the pleasure of attending 2 seders. The first one, on the first night of Passover was a small intimate one and the second night’s seder was a large, noisy one.

The small seder on Saturday night was held out in the suburbs of Stockholm and my only responsibility was to pick up and deliver the gefilte fish that had been pre-ordered. There were 6 of us there, gathered around a lovingly set table in the middle of a small living room. The oldest other guest at this dinner was a friend who had recently turned 40. I felt so honored that these young people had wished to share their seder with me. It was the first time for Ben (who did an excellent job) to lead a seder and the Haggadah we used was a relatively simple one, all in English. This of course was perfect for me – since for me, the Passover story is best told in my mother tongue – with bits of transliterated Hebrew thrown in. Because it was a Saturday we started late, after sundown at 9pm. The food, cooked by Ellen was delicious and the conversation during the evening was lively, with me adding, my old lady feminist and Reform Jew opinions, when I felt they were needed. Afterwards, all the guests were driven home through a quiet and dark Stockholm, landing me back at my apartment around 2.30 in the morning.

The first night of Passover

The first night of Passover

Twelve hours later, by 2pm in the afternoon, Håkan had deposited me and Bevin in Skarpneck for the next Seder.
This Seder was the annual Seder that I lead for my group of Jewish/American/Swedish friends or J.A.P.S. for short (Jewish American Parents in Stockholm). We have been gathering for over 25 years to celebrate Jewish holidays together and this is my Jewish family here in Stockholm. We celebrated Passover together for the first time in 1998.

This year, we were 26 people, of whom 6 of them were small children and a 3 month old baby. When we first started out so long ago, all our kids were small children. Now some of those “kids” are having kids of their own. It fills my heart that these young people still want to join us to celebrate, bringing their own children with them.

Bevin and I arrived loaded down with stuff for the seder: 8 haggadahs, boxes of matzah, a seder plate, a silver goblet, 1 Elijah cup, 2 matzah covers, candlesticks w candles. And of course food: Chicken soup & matzah balls and charoses, and the ritual foods for the 3 seder plates – parsley, horseradish, 3 roasted eggs, 3 lamb shank bones. Everyone else brings the rest of the food: raw veggies to munch with hummus or chopped liver, hard boiled eggs, lamb, roasted potatoes & parsnips, kugels, salads and a bunch of wonderful desserts including a real sponge cake. I haven’t had a real Passover sponge cake in a zillion years!!! Thank you Berta!

Finally after all the tables and chairs were in place and decorated and everyone had arrived, we sat down to tell the story of the Jews’ exodus from Egypt and to remind ourselves how important freedom is for everyone.

As every year, I have something to say before we start the seder. Here is what I said this year.

Passover Speech 2025
I want to start off by saying welcome to everyone. We made it! We are here – gathered together! Pheewww…

Every year I like to start our seder by making a small speech. Maybe that’s very vain of me – to think that I might have something important to say, but that’s the way it is. And every year, when I sit down at the computer, trying to write something, the words take a while to come.

Every year… That is probably one of the most important and yet invisible, themes of Passover. Every year we gather. Every year we tell the story. Every year we go through the same rituals of eating parsley, and charoses and matzah. And every year we talk about Freedom – to live our lives as we wish to, free from constraint.

As some of you might know, the past couple of months have been difficult for me – causing me to question my ability as a leader, as someone who can be in charge of doing things, of getting things done. For this reason, I have been giving some thought to Moses. To Moses and the idea of leadership. Moses is the invisible guest at our seder table. Moses is the person who got the whole ball rolling and yet he is the one person we do not name at our Seder. We talk about Jacob moving his clan to Egypt. We mention that Joseph became a great lord there. But Moses…nobody mentions him, at least not in the Haggadah. Its like we are not supposed to be grateful to him for what he did.

Over the last 3000 years there has been some commentary written about why he’s not mentioned in the Haggadah.
So let me name a few of those ideas:
First, maybe we don’t mention Moses, in order to emphasize that it was God that was the big kahuna.

Or maybe we don’t mention him because Moses was a humble kind of guy and didn’t want to folks to make a big fuss about him (because remember…he was present at the very first seder a year after the exodus and for a whole lot more of them while the Jews wandered in the desert for 40 years).

Or even maybe because the part that Moses played in the story was just the physical action part which took place 3000 years ago and the Seder we do today is more about the spiritual, idea of freedom, of setting oneself free.

Whatever the reason is…we still don’t mention him.

So what was Moses? Who was he?
To start with, he was a man born into one culture (race, tribe, family, clan, folk, minority or whatever you want to call it) that of the Israelite slaves, and yet he grew up and was raised within another one. He was an outsider – a favored part of Pharoah’s family but yet always knowing he was not truly family. And when he escaped Egypt and went to Midian, he married the high Priest Jethro’s daughter, Zipporah and lived there a long time with her, tending sheep. But he wasn’t a Midianite, he was still an outsider.

We also know that he had a strong sense of justice and a violent temper – He killed an Egyptian that he saw unfairly beating a Jewish slave. This was the reason he had to flee Egypt.

And he must have been humble – when the burning bush that was God told him to return to Egypt and free his people, Moses asked in his most Woody Allen voice, “Why me? I am no one and I don’t speak well”. He felt inadequate to that job but God convinced him that together with his brother Aaron’s help he could do what God commanded him to do. Like so many of us, he rose to meet the situation he was handed.

So why am I thinking this year about the invisible man at the Seder table?

I think the story of Moses as an outsider who was able to make a new home for himself in all the places that he lived is an apt story for us J.A.P.S. in general. Like Moses…Risa, Janet, David, Barbara, Marina, Sam & Rebecca, Naomi & Matt and myself, have all left our families and our countries to make a home in a foreign land. We have raised our children in this strange new place and they have grown up to call it home. This is something that Jews have been good at doing for over 2000 years.

Moses’s anger also comes to mind when I think back to some of our previous Pesach seders and how I allowed the stress and my own crankiness to get the better of me and how others have had to drag me off to a corner to cool down. I guess I’m happy I didn’t murder anybody.

And finally, I am thinking of Moses, the leader, and I ponder what does it mean to be a leader when your task is done.

In 1997, when I placed an ad in the American Woman’s Club magazine, looking for Jewish mothers to help me celebrate the Jewish holidays together, I had no idea that 28 years later we would still be sitting down together to celebrate the Passover holiday. Some of the faces around the table have changed, some have moved away and new faces and families have joined us, but, as a group we are still here and with a new generation of small bubbelas at our table.

When I placed that ad, I wanted for me and my son, Bevin, to be part of a group, a family. Granted, I have been the one bullying everyone to do what I wanted of them – when to meet, what to eat, who brings what, and how we celebrate. I feel like, just as Moses led his very unruly group of Israelites into freedom, I have led the J.A.P.S. into being Jews, celebrating our Jewishness together. I don’t know how long I can continue doing this. Eventually others will have to start to take over the tasks and I am beginning to feel like that possibility will happen. Sooner or later, we pass the torch to someone else.

I can’t say how Moses must have felt by the time he sheparded his Israelites to the edge of the promised land, but I can say that I feel proud of the work I have done to get my J.A.P.S. this far and I am sooo very glad that I have you all here, my created family, here in this foreign land to celebrate with me.

So…now that we have gotten Moses out of the way, lets start this seder like every year, by lighting the holiday lights.

J.A.P.S. Passover Seder 2025

 

Passover 2023 in a new place

This spring was the second time me and my J.A.P.S. have been able to meet to celebrate Passover since the world stopped for Covid 19. This year was different than previous years because we met in a new place – out in Skarpnäck, at a beautiful party house. Thank you, Carly, for offering to host us there. It was lovely. And as usual, I had a few words to say before we started our wonderful ritual of reminding ourselves of who we are and where we came from. 

I want to welcome all of you here to celebrate Passover with me once again. This year we are starting a new chapter, with a new place to meet. We have been doing this Passover thing for a long time now and it is always my wish that we can gather together to celebrate this holiday.

When we read our Haggadah, we discover that this holiday, Passover, is all about the desire for freedom – the wish to be free.

But you have to be careful what you wish for, because you just might get it, says a lot of memes out there on Facebook and the internet. While my mom never stressed me about it, I know that she really wished I would find someone and get married. Well, she eventually got her wish. What she didn’t expect was that it would be to someone who would take me all the way across an ocean. Be careful what you wish for, Mom.

As a curly red head, I always wished for straight blond hair…just like our curly-headed friend Barbara did. And about 5 years ago she got her wish, but it came as a wig and was due to developing cancer. Now, my reddish hair is grey but still pretty straight as long as if I keep protecting it from the weather and luckily Barbara’s curly red hair is once again growing back. But, we have to remember to be careful what we wish for.

I have been involved in Progressiv Judendom I Stockholm since 2006. And since Progjud started, the wish for having our own Rabbi has been at the top of the list. Well, now we have one and I find myself drowning in work for Progjud that I didn’t really expect. Be careful what we wish for, right?

For 2000 years the Jewish people had wished for their own homeland and finally in 1948 it happened, bringing with it both great happiness and great heartbreak. Be careful what you wish for because peace…is something still at the top of all of our wishes for Israel.

While wishing for things is not specific for us as Jews, we always need to be a bit careful. Wishing for family, and different hair, and Rabbis, and a homeland, and peace are nevertheless good things to be wishing for.

In the Haggadah story we are about to retell, we hear that in the beginning, the Jewish people were slaves in Egypt. They had started out as a small group of free people who because of famine had migrated to another land to find food. They eventually ended up there as slaves. The story tells us how Moses led them out of Egypt to freedom – how Pharoah was vanquished and the Jewish people crossed the red sea towards a new life. And that’s where it ends. That’s like me telling my mom, “I met a guy and I’m getting married” But I leave out the part that he is Swedish and I will be living in Stockholm. She got her wish…but… it wasn’t quite what she expected.

And so too the story in this Haggadah. Yes, the Jewish people were freed but… being free looked hard – many wanted to turn back, they had to wander through deserts, they didn’t know what they would eat, their leader disappears up a mountain and they don’t know what to do without him. Maybe freedom isn’t all its cracked up to be after all. You have to be careful what you wish for.

So, as we begin our seder, with the story about becoming free in our past, let us keep in mind what freedom, to be who we are today as Jews, means, both the difficulties and the joys. And we need to think about how we continue to be Jews, tomorrow and the day after and the day after that.

Because it all works out in the end- I got married, my hair is straight, Progjud has a rabbi, the Jewish people have a homeland – and here we are today still telling that same story and I find myself wishing that the children I see here today, will continue to do so, too.

Now…Let’s start our seder.

Passover 2022

Photo by Danielle Shevin

Finally after almost 3 years of isolation and pandemic, my group of American/Jewish/Swedish friends could meet in person and celebrate Passover together again. We gathered at the Party House on Reimersholmen as we usually have done for many years now and sat down to an organized dinner. It was so great to see all who could make it. This year our Seder plate had two additions on it.  I am generally a traditionalist and don’t like changing the contents of the Seder plate to suit current politically correct modernity but I made an exception this year. This year we added an orange and a beautiful sunflower blossom – the orange to symbolize women leading services once usually reserved only to men and the flower to remind us what is going on in Ukraine at this moment. 

Here is what I had to say before we started our service. 

It’s so nice to see all of you today. It’s been 3 years since we met to celebrate Passover in person. Technically it’s not really Passover any longer. Yesterday was the last day so I guess Passover has passed over us. Passover is over but here we are…

Here we are. Think about those words: here we are. We almost weren’t. I waited too long before trying to book the Party House and when I went to book our usual day, Good Friday, I discovered someone else had booked it before me. Saturday, påskafton was also booked, as well as Easter Sunday. Today was the only available day this weekend, so here we are.

This holiday which we celebrate every year, is especially apt this year, given what has been going on in the world right now. Passover reminds us how we had to pack up what we could carry with us and leave a land that we had been living in for many generations, at almost a moment’s notice. We didn’t even have time to let our bread rise.

A similar exodus is happening over in Ukraine right now. I can’t stop watching CNN show me how Ukrainians are being forced to flee from their homes and escape to other countries. While they aren’t being chased out by horse-drawn chariots and their bread comes in plastic bags from grocery stores, their hasty and dangerous exodus reminds me of the Passover story. It tells the tale of a people who want to be able to live in freedom and self-determination just like the Ukrainians do today.

The Passover story of the exodus from Egypt, 13 centuries before Jesus, was the founding myth of the Jewish people. But, it was just the first of many such expulsions. 7 centuries before Jesus, the Assyrian empire sacked the northern Kingdom of Israel and deported the Jews to Assyria. Then a little over a hundred years later Babylonia, besieged Jerusalem, destroyed Solomon’s Temple and carted us off to Babylonia. It took fifty years before the Jews were allowed to return to their homeland and could build a new temple. That Temple got destroyed by the Romans in 70 AD and once again Jews were scattered across the ancient world far away from their home. This time the expulsion would last for 2000 years.

During those centuries Jews were given the choice to either leave or die, by cities or countries throughout Europe and north Africa. During the early middle ages, Spain became a haven of prosperity for Jews only to be ended with the devastating expulsion by Ferdinand and Isabella in 1492. I’m not going to list all the places that first welcomed us only to later expel us. You can look it up on Wikipedia.

But in spite of all that moving around, the Jewish People survived. We learned how to carry with us our culture, our religion, our history – to not tie it down to the place we were living in. In today’s world, forced migration is getting more and more common. Sometimes because of war like in Ukraine, or because of environmental catastrophes like forest fires in the American west or rising sea levels for island nations or desertification in sub-Saharan Africa. With each new place the Jewish people were forced to move to, we learned to live there within the new rules of the place and also as Jews and when we had to leave we took with us the influences from that place and incorporated them into ourselves without losing ourselves in the process. This ability to adapt and change and still remain true to our heart is something we can teach the rest of the world in these days of involuntary migration.

So, here we are, sitting here, today, as Jews still do, in a small building on Reimersholmen, remembering that very first move. Granted we are not all here –  some of us, from my group of J.A.P.S., couldn’t make it today. Hopefully next year we can all be here together once again.

So, let’s start the seder.

Passover minyan 2017

As I sit here writing this post, the 5th day of Passover is almost over. My supply of matzah is already half eaten, though there is still more than enough left to do a matzah brei tomorow. This year, as usual, I attended 2 Seders.  The first one was a Swedish one – Progressiv Judendom i Stockholm’s Seder. I’ve been on the board of PJS for over 10 years and as a board member, I help out with all the activities we have done through the years. This year we did an especially good Seder. Eva Ekselius, with the help of Marianne Prager and Mats Frisk, led us through the Haggadah and even added other interesting tidbits of information. Marianne’s singing and Mats’ guitar playing were wonderful and helped to make it a fun evening in spite of the fact that I was in the middle of having a horrible cold. I can only hope I didn’t infect everyone I talked to that evening. Oh, and the food was good too!

And then, a few days later on Good Friday, I led my J.A.P.S.* Seder as I have been doing for almost the past 20 years. These people are my minyan, my family, that I feel like I gave birth to here in my adopted homeland. The Jewish People have a long history of moving from one country to another (not always as voluntarily as my choice was) and building from scratch, a full Jewish life in the new place. It wasn’t until I moved to the land of the blue-eyed blond that I discovered just how much the Jewish life I left behind in New York City meant to me. And how much I needed it. I knew I would miss friends and family but I didn’t know I would miss Jewishness. So I set out to rebuild it for myself and for my son. And 20 years down the line I feel I have succeeded.

The kids

The kids

At this point, we are 7 families with children (can we still call them children if most of them are not even teenagers any longer?) and a few who come on their own. This year the group was smaller than usual because a number of us were traveling to other places. But still we filled my Co-op’s party house with 20 people.

Before we start the seder proper, I always welcome my minyan with a little speech and even though I was sick and stressed and just plain tired and thought I would just skip the talk, I couldn’t let it go. As usual I had to say a few words. These are the words I said:

Welcome everyone
I won’t bore you with a long speech. I have a cold and don’t feel really up to long speeches.

We are a rather small group this year. A lot of our young people are not able to be with us. Many of our children are now old enough to have their own agendas, not just what their parents want them to do. This absence of our youngsters, made me think of the reason we are commanded to celebrate the Passover – to teach our children. To tell them the story of the Exodus, to remind them that once we, as Jews, were slaves and now we are free.

The oldies

The oldies

By commanding us to tell our children, the entire process of Passover becomes a generational event. To tell our children, we need to also have the mothers and fathers at the Passover table – mothers and fathers who once were themselves children, listening to the story their parents told.

My grandparents, immigrants from Poland before the second world war, were the first people whose Seder I remember being at. They didn’t do much story telling – mainly because they really didn’t know much about it themselves. But it always somehow felt very authentic to my child’s mind though my mother told me that my grandfather basically just said Kiddush and then we ate. But he said it with a strong Yiddish accent so I guess it just felt more real. After my grandfather died when I was ten, my mother and my aunt took over hosting the Seder – alternating years between them. By then, our families had graduated to using the free Maxwell House Haggadahs that many American Jewish families in the 1950s and 60s grew up with. Each year we would take turns going around the table reading portions from the color-coded and illustrated texts. It was a sort of Haggadah for Dummies. It told you with detailed instructions what you were supposed to do and when. We sat there and endured the boringness of the ritual, once again just waiting for the food without really understanding what the words meant.

It wasn’t till I was no longer a child and, on the outside at least, finally a grown-up, that I was invited to a Seder led by someone who actually knew what the whole thing was about. It was then that I realized that it didn’t have to be that meaningless mumble that it had always been my whole life. Since then, I have tried to lead a Seder that had meaning. I don’t know if I always succeeded but I tried. It has to be about more than just waiting for the food to show up.

Passover is truly about generations of parents passing on this story to their children and then they to their own children and so on and so on. My greatest hope (well maybe not my greatest hope but at least as it applies to Jewishness and Passover) is that my passing on of the Seder story to our next generation will continue into the future as it has for several thousand years past.

In addition to the absence of some of our children, when I look around this group I remember some who have celebrated with us who are no longer able to be here. Last year Marina’s mother, Rachel was here with us. Before that Danielle’s mom, Lydia celebrated with us and even further back my own mother, Evelyn. Now they are no longer able to share in our Seder or pass on what they know to their daughters who are still here.

So I want to start this year’s Seder by asking Danielle and Marina to join  me in lighting the candles, in memory of our mothers, as we once again start the yearly telling of the story of the Exodus  – of our people’s journey from slavery to freedom.

Chag sameach.

*Jewish American Parents in Stockholm

Photos are all courtesy of Danielle Shevin

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