Candles

Lighting candles transforms ordinary time into sacred time, marking the official start of the Seder. This act represents our commitment to keeping the flame of freedom alive.

The Blessing:

Baruch Atah Adonai Eloheinu melech ha'olam asher kid'shanu b'mitzvotav, v'tzivanu l'hadlik ner shel Yom Tov.

Shabbat Candles

May the festival lights we now kindle,

Inspire us to use our powers

To heal and not to harm,

To help and not to hinder,

To bless and not to curse,

To serve You, O God of freedom.

The dining room table was simply resplendent. Covered in her now off-white lace table cloth, the oak wooden table stood sturdily atop the navy tuft pile carpet, though every year a few more shims were added for leveling. On the soft carpet, slight impressions from hundreds of chair legs left indented memories of the past. 

In the corners of the dining room, white built-in cabinets displayed China dishes with tiny blue and white flowers, wine glasses of every size, a shelf reserved entirely for Shabbat candlesticks, and a rudimentary  hanukkiah  made of wood and bolts, the sole survivor of Sunday school, now coated with wax.

The door was open to Elijah. At one end of the table sat his goblet full of wine, waiting for his visit, while across from it, Miriam’s cup stood in prominence. The children, who were now adults, still shot furtive glances at these cups. Would the wine disappear this year like it always had?

As in every year, there was too much food. He always cooked for twelve, even though now, there were only five or six people who might return to this table for Passover. 

In the foyer, a few table leaves leaned against a corner.

“Honey, we don’t need them this year,” he suggested to his wife.

“No. Let's put them in – just in case.” 

“But Mom,” their adult children echoed, “its just the six of us. And the leaves are really heavy. It's not worth breaking your back over.”

“No. No. Let's put them in – just in case.” 

And so they compromised. This year, one leaf would be used. The other would stand lonely in another room.

“And Mom, we don’t need extra chairs either.”

It’s in these moments, joyous holiday meals and family celebrations, that we remember them. It is in the smell of spices so fragrant, the taste of sweet wine, and the shadow of candles flickering, that we recall the days when they sat next to us and sometimes we can still feel their warmth. 

As we recall the story of the Jewish people, of our redemption from slavery in Egypt, we remember also the story of our own families: the journeys and experiences that shaped us, the people and places, and the faces that sat across from us, shared meals with us, shared the story with us – for so many years.

We can’t help but want to set a place for them at the table, hoping that they will walk in the door years after they’ve departed. We can’t help but want to hear their voices singing, laughing. We can’t help but want to smell their perfume, to taste their cooking, to see their smile.

While our memories are but meager substitutes for the warm hug we so long to experience, may we find solace and comfort in knowing that while they may be gone, our memories endure.

[Begin taking turns reading. Each person is invited to read a grouped set of lines - or to pass.]

It is said, there is nothing new under the sun, yet nothing remains the same. Against the backdrop of eternity the earth displays an ever-changing countenance. The sun rises and the sun sets, yet each day and each season is fresh and new.

Slowly, one season emerges from another. The harshness of ice and snow yields to gentle, nourishing showers. Inevitably, the cold, dark days succumb to the warmth and light of Spring. We rejoice in the warm light and rich blessings of this season.

The celebration of Passover represents the perennial rebirth and survival of the Jewish people and the world of nature. The light of these candles symbolizes a renewal of life, a reaffirmation of freedom. 

Leader:

N'-varekh `et ha-`or ka-`asher niqqavets b'-tsavta` l'-hadliqnerotshelyomtov. B'-`or ha-herut n'-varekh`et ha-haiyim.

Everyone:

Let us bless the light as we gather together to kindle the festival candles. With the light of liberation let us bless life.

[The candles are lit.] 

The Seder officially begins with the lighting the candles. In Jewish tradition, lighting candles and saying a blessing over them marks a time of transition, from the day that is ending to the one that is beginning, from ordinary time to sacred time. 

Lumos Maxima!

(sing the candle blessing in Hebrew)

Blessed are you, Adonai our God, ruler of the Universe, who has sanctified us with laws and commanded us to light the Passover candles.

We light these candles to dispel the darkness, and to empower all people who struggle against hatred, ignorance, and bigotry.