Do you know every lyric to Hamilton by heart? Are you looking to spice up your seder? You are in a venn diagram of fortune, friend, thanks to two rabbinical students.

Emily Cohen and Jake Best Adler have published “The Hamilton Haggadah,” a series of songs about the story of the Exodus set to tunes from the Broadway mega-hit.

Featuring such songs as “Get Them Back” (“You’ll Be Back”) and “The Ten Plagues of Egypt” (“The Ten Duel Commandments”), you’ve never sung the story of Passover quite like this.

Cohen and Best Adler are frequent carpool buddies to the Reconstructionist Rabbinical College in Philadelphia, and after Cohen introduced her friend to Hamilton, Best Adler heard a suggestion that someone combine the musical and holiday. He returned to Cohen, and the two set to work, creating eleven parody numbers of the show about founding father Alexander Hamilton.

“As Reconstructionists, we are always seeking new and innovative approaches to engaging with tradition,” they said.

They were excited about the zeitgeist of the musical to engage with the holiday, but also observed that it’s “still serious enough to transmit the story [of Passover] without getting too cutesy or kitschy, as can happen with many pop song parodies.”

Still, the Haggadah is pretty cute, with such bits as “The Schuyler Sisters” rewritten about the four sons (children):

“Listen up, listen up- time to pour a new splash of wine into your cup!/History is happ’ning in the Haggadah and we just happen to be/In the greatest story in the world!”

Seriously, this thing has gone viral, so you don’t want to miss out.  Read it here, and print out as many copies as you have guests at the seder this year!

The Haggadah also includes vocal demos prepared by Cohen, and the two are following up on the project by creating their own annotated edition. Now that’s thorough!

Image courtesy of Emily Cohen and Jake Best Adler.

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The evening began with Durschlag introducing his collection, and explaining his impetus for and interest in collecting. The Haggadot “speak rather deeply to my heart and to my mind,” Durschlag said. His interest stems from the Jewish peoples’ transformation from servitude to redemption, and the fact that the Haggadah encompasses the full scope of the Jewish tradition: people from often vastly different cultures throughout time have used the same text in different contexts and communities, some of which have been decimated, all in order to make sense of the oppression, persecution and ultimately the freedom of the Jewish people. The Haggadah, for Durschlag, was like a hand reaching from the past to remind us of where we came from, to remember our ancestors and to keep the memory alive, with all of its complexity and diversity.

The Haggadah-as-cultural-object presents several axes on which to interpret it: we learn about the varied communities that produced it through time and space, we see a spectrum of Jewish expressions (reform, Orthodox, feminist, vegetarian, Zionist, gay rights, etc.), and encourages an inner-meditation that stems from the wide range of voices that comprise the Jewish people.

(Illustration of the Four Sons from a 1695 Haggadah printed in Amsterdam. From the collection of Stephen P. Durchslag.)

Collaborating with Durschlag, Alice Schreyer, Assistant University Librarian for Humanities, Social Sciences, and Special Collections, and Paul Mendes-Flohr, Professor of Modern Jewish Thought in the Divinity School, Pesach Weinstein, doctoral candidate in the Divinity School at University of Chicago, within the History of Religions Department, curated the exhibition. Weinstein chose Haggadot from Durschlag’s collection that stood out, with original and high-quality illustrations: “The Geismer 1928 and the Steinhardt 1923 have particularly striking illustrations and they were two of the pieces that I was most excited to show. Another way that certain Haggadot stood out from the thousands of others in the collection was their age and scarcity. I wanted to display pieces that represented the earliest examples of printed Haggadot, and that were also copiously illustrated. The Mantua 1568 and Venice 1599 fall into this category,” Weinstein explained. Certain Haggadot, such as the Munich 1946 produced for Holocaust survivors, convey a particularly strong emotional impact. I also chose contemporary political Haggadot which are unique in terms of their very specific intended audience.”

The first in a series of four lectures led by four distinguished scholars followed Durschlag’s opening remarks. David Stern, Professor of Classical Hebrew Literature at the University of Pennsylvania, started off the series with his lecture entitled The Haggadah and the Jewish Imagination. Stern introduced a “Haggadorama”—images of illustrations within early Haggadot, which depict Seders replete with Haggadot. The self-reflexivity of these images, that is, the Haggadah reflecting upon itself, furthers the idea that the Haggadah moves through history and yet remains the same. It is a static object in a dynamic world. It mediates between the fragmentary nature of identity and the fixed traditions that compose that very identity.

The illustrations in the Haggadot often reflect this imaginative property—they begin with Creation, or with the birth of Moses, and end in the moment the Haggadah was created in order to make it real and present for the community that would use it (Moses crosses the Nile in a gondola in a Venetian Haggadah from 1601).

A highlight of the lecture was Stern’s contention that throughout the history of Jewish culture, Jews always ate the way their host cultures ate. Seders in first century Roman Palestine, therefore, were modeled after the Roman Banquet—specifically the Symposium. Jews today recline at the Seder because Romans reclined, and drink wine at every course following the Roman model. For Romans, the Symposium was a place to drink, to praise the gods, discuss arcane topics and ancient history. The Seder evolved out of this tradition, but came to focus on redemption. Rabbis invented the Seder as a substitute for a sacrifice which could no longer be offered. A text was developed, somewhere in the 8th or 9th century, as a way to contextualize and order the symbolism imbued in the foods eaten at the Seder.

(Illustration of a Seder dinner from an 1867 Haggadah printed in Livorno, Italy. From the collection of Stephen P. Durchslag.)

There is no other Jewish ritual so connected visually with a book. Why then is the redemption of the Jewish people ritualized and reified? Why is the story played out through food, and not some other medium? Why is it important that the book changes after the various exiles? How does it concern the imaginative redemption—and why does it remain relevant in imagining and reimagining the exodus from Egypt, enslavement, the ten plagues, and sacrifice?

One major aspect of the Seder (or, “order”), and a function of the Haggadah (or, “the telling”), is for the Jew to look upon him or herself as though he or she had actually been freed from Egyptian slavery. The Haggadah has been adapted by cultures and subcultures to fit into modern terms. Therefore, Egypt can be the patriarchy, it can be Auschwitz, it can be addiction (there have been several Alcoholics Anonymous Haggadot printed). A Haggadah can be adapted for every identity in order to symbolically interpret various forms of oppression.

The notion of adaptation can be extended from a culture borrowing the Exodus to suit its own purposes. As was seen with the Jews using the Roman symposium for the Seder, is also a major factor in deeply rooted religious traditions. For example, the four sons in the Seder are equated with the four temperaments (sanguine, choleric, melancholic and phlegmatic), which were integral to understanding human behavior in ancient Egypt, Mesopotamia, Greece, and elsewhere. As such, the Wicked Son, for example, is equated with Mars, the God of War, and the choleric temperament. This borrowing from Greco-Roman culture, polytheistic societies in which the Jews lived (Egypt, too, was of course polytheistic) is in keeping with the idea that traditions are often adapted to fit another culture. Perhaps it would be meaningful to think about this adaptation in terms of The Last Supper, which is believed to have been a Seder, though Christians have adapted this to fit into their own tradition.

The Haggadah has become integral in re-imagining oppression, in helping Jews to understand their respective places in history—not only seeing oneself in symbolic terms, but, as Stern concluded, collapsing the past and present into a single moment. The Haggadah reminds us that we aren’t breaking free from the past, but instead are using our imaginations to connect to our pasts.

(Detail from a woodcut illustration from a Haggadah illustrated by Jacob Steinhardt, 1923. From the collection of Stephen P. Durchslag.)

Upcoming Lectures:

Sunday, April 22

Marc Michael Epstein (Vassar College), “Birds Head Revisited: Identity, Politics and Polemics the Birds’ Head Haggadah”

Sunday, May 6

Vanessa Ochs (University of Virginia), “The Coconut on the Seder Plate: A biography of the contemporary Haggadah.”

Sunday, May 13

Katrin Kogman-Appel (Ben-Gurion University), “Popularizing Books in a Manuscript Culture: The Visual Language of the Late Medieval Haggadah.”

The post Haggadot on View at the University of Chicago appeared first on Jewcy.

My grandparents were holocaust survivors. When they came to America, their primary focus was becoming American.  So instead of Hebrew school, my mom was a girl scout.  And instead of speaking Yiddish to their children, they struggled through English (with crazy thick accents).  When we grandchildren came along, my grandfather (Papa) thought is was a good idea to get a little Judaism back into the family, so they sent us all to day school.  When Passover came around, although Papa would sit at the head of the table, it was the grandchildren who led the seder.  We divided up the parts and sped through the Hebrew reading and songs we had learned with energy and enthusiasm.  While Papa beamed with pride and our parents enjoyed feeling like their money was well spent, everyone over the age of 11 sat watching the show, unable to follow along and unsure how to participate.

As we grew up, the old methods didn’t quite do it for us anymore either.  Few 23 year olds are willing to jump on chairs and sing Hebrew songs at the top of their lungs in front of parents and friends.  That said, not every great Seder includes loud outbursts of adolescent singing.  In fact, some of the best don’t have any.  With a bit of preparation and planning, anyone can host an engaging, interactive, totally not-lame Seder.  Below are some tips.

1. ZAYDE SHOULDN’T LEAD.  EITHER SHOULD YOU.

A good Seder is a group project.  Get the group involved early on.  Assign parts in advance to all your guests. Give them a section of the Seder; ask them to think about a creative activity, some discussion questions, or an interesting article or text that relates to their topic.  Everyone in the room gets to lead a piece and feels invested in the process.

2.  PREPARE!

30 minutes of preparation a few nights before the Seder will go a long way.  You can ask guests to lead sections, but you can’t expect a Seder to run itself entirely. Look through your haggadah, take notes, decide in advance what pieces you want to skip or definitely want to do.  Write out a few questions and ideas that are interesting and relevant to your guests.

3. USE PROPS!

No matter your age, throwing ping-pong balls at people is fun.  So is flinging plastic frogs at your sister.  Party stores carry lots of options for plagues.  Don’t go with the pre-packaged kits, be creative and make your own.

4. CHOOSE THE RIGHT HAGGADAH.

While you may be nostalgic for the Maxwell House version of the past, it is time to graduate to something more interesting, relevant and user friendly.  My favorite right now is: A Night To Remember: The Haggadah of Contemporary Voices.

5. BUT DON’T READ IT.

No one wants to sit and read a book for two hours.  Be creative about how you retell the story.  Come up with games and activities.  Bring in contemporary articles about the Arab Spring or the need for a livable wage for discussion or consider including a supplement or two (or three).  Put on a play.  Just don’t sit in one place and read a book in a foreign language that no one understands.

6. ASK REAL QUESTIONS.

Find ways of inviting everyone’s voice into the room early on.  Ask a question that everyone can answer no matter their age, connection to or understanding of the tradition.  What makes you feel like a slave?  Are there people in our society today that need redeeming?

7. EAT EARLY!

Hunger always gets in the way.  The dipping of the parsley actually took the place of the salad course in ancient Rome.  Bring back the salad course!  Try dipping other things- potatoes, salad, artichokes.  Just no matzah yet!

8. GET IN THE MOOD.

This isn’t a formal dinner; it’s a themed dinner party.  Wear (or bring) costumes.  Decorate part of your house like the desert or a parted sea.  Set up a comfortable space for good conversation – no one said a Seder had to take place around a table in a formal dining room.  Sit on the floor or on couches.  Provide pillows (or invite guests to bring their own) to recline on.

9. GET RID OF THE GUILT.

Pay less attention to what you think should happen at a Seder or your Seder last year, and more attention to who is in the room and the experience you are having in that moment.

10.  WHEN ALL ELSE FAILS.

Lots and lots of wine!   4 cups doesn’t mean 4 sips.  So lean to the left and down that entire glass of cheap kosher merlot.

The post Top Ten Ways to Make Your Seder Not Suck appeared first on Jewcy.

Laurel already wrote a great post this week about how hard it is to make Yom Ha’atzmaut, (Israel’s Independence Day) meaningful. It’s a tall order, especially these days, when, frankly, I have lots of ideological problems with Israeli politics. But I’ve come up with a few things you can do to focus your day on Israel and on freedom:

1. Say Hallel: Hallel is composed of psalms 113-118, which you can find online in both Hebrew and English here. The chapters are full of gratitude and faith, joy and salvation from enemies. Experiencing Hallel in a synagogue is ideal because it tends to be a raucous and unruly affair that’s especially fun for kids, but if you just want to say them at home, it’s cool. Hallel is one of those awesome prayers that doesn’t require a minyan, so saying it on your own is totally fine. And I think saying Hallel for a newer/more recent event than Hanukkah just reaffirms that we still think God is hanging around and acting on our behalf. It’s like saying, “Hey, these psalm things really work!”

2. Recap the Haggadah: I don’t know why no one has made a Yom Ha’atzmaut seder yet. It seems to me like a totally obvious thing to do. We were slaves, we were oppressed, and now we’re free, and we get to be in charge of ourselves. It’s the same story. And instead of matzah eat pita, and instead of charoset eat hummus. This idea is so good I have to go write up something real for next year, but in the meantime, retell the story of the exodus, and of the obstacles the Jews had to face amongst themselves in the desert. Remember that getting out of slavery doesn’t automatically mean we’re home free. We still have lots of work to do.

3. Give a couple bucks to the Israeli economy: Head to the grocery store and look out for products that were made/grown in Israel. I’m a big fan of Wissotzky teas, but there’s plenty of variety to choose from. Supporting the economy means supporting Israel’s democracy. It’s giving to other Jews, which is pretty Jewish.

4. Listen to some rockin’ Israeli tunes: A big part of most Jewish holidays are the songs we sing for them. Yom Ha’atzmaut doesn’t quite have a modern liturgy, but I like to celebrate with the music of Shlomo Artzi, who’s known as the father of modern Israel songwriting, and who has been around the Israeli music scene since the sixties. He’s patriotic, but never in an idiotic way. I’m also a huge fan of Gaya, who sing that insanely catchy song Od Yavo, and it’s cousin, Yachad. You’ve heard them both relentlessly from youth groups in the past five years.

5. Stay involved in Israeli life: Even when it seems like a drag, and when you are so embarrassed by Moshe Katzav and irritated by Ehud Olmert that you can’t imagine ever wanting to hear about the Knesset again, keep reading the papers and blogs and talking to people who’ve just come back from trips to Israel. Whether you like it or not, Israel’s survival and success have a big effect on any and every Jew. Stay informed, have an opinion, and duke it out (verbally) with others. Chag sameach!

Image: Shutterstock

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