By Shifra Freewoman
It was 1983, and I finally was able to be a member of the women's group at Oberlin that was putting together a feminist haggadah. I can't remember ever wanting so deeply to be a part of something like I wanted to be in that group. Judaism, liberation and feminism meant the world to me, and I knew I had so much to learn and contribute to a group like this one. It had my name on it.
I had asked Miriam Bronstein if I could join. Though Miriam, a former Havurah member, is a very friendly, welcoming person, she was hesitant to let anyone else into the group. Jewish events at Oberlin were not good. Whether traditional or not, they lacked kavannah/intention and ruach/spirit. This group was gelling and felt good, and she did not want to disturb that good spirit of the group.
However, a story I had written, called "A Crust of Bread at the Seder Table," settled the question, and I was in! Once I showed Miriam and everyone that story, it did its magic. They wanted the story, and I came along with it. The rest is herstory.
I had come across a very short piece of news in 'The New Womens Times', a feminist newspaper. It was around 1982. A group of Jewish women had asked a Rabbi, what was the place of lesbians in Judaism. He answered that the place of lesbians in Judaism was like chometz, unleavened bread, at the seder. The women responded by putting a crust of bread on the seder table to symbolize the inclusion of lesbians.
Very taken by the story, I decided to embellish it, and make it in a literary tale, while still keeping the basic story intact. I did so and loved the story. I did not know at the time I wrote it, that the story would become so influential.
Our women's group, in the spring semester of 1983 put the story into our haggadah, and we then had to decide, what do we do? Would we put a crust of bread on the seder table for our seder? Or not?
There was a halachic debate about this among our group. Initially women said we should follow their custom and do as they did. Other women disagreed. Just because this rabbi says lesbians are like chometz, does not make it so; actually, one woman said, the rabbi, with his puffed up and arrogant judgements, is chometz. There was a real concern about how we should proceed. Other women felt that we should not abandon all distinctions, that some were important to keep, like the difference between matzah and chometz.
Finally, one woman came up with a beautiful solution. She suggested we leave an open place on the seder plate, Makom, which means place, and also is a word for God, the Place of the World. This open place is to welcome and include anyone and everyone, including lesbians, who have been left out or excluded. Everyone loved this beautiful, elegant solution. And so we decided to add Makom to our seder plate.
A year or so later, Susannah Heschel, a Jewish Feminist theologian (and daughter of Abraham Joshua Heschel, a Rabbi, theologian, writer and civil rights and anti-war activist,) came to Oberlin for Passover. She thought we had put bread on the sseder table, (which was a misunderstanding- we had never done this), and she was uncomfortable with this. She proposed putting an orange on the seder plate to include lesbians. And this custom stuck, and many people now put an orange on the seder plate.
Then apparently, some people were uncomfortable with lesbians, so the orange on the seder table got changed to women rabbis on the the bimah, or lectern, in the shul. Apparently, someone said women have as much place on the bimah as an orange, ie. we women are totally irrelevant.
It is quite fascinating to see how a story can change so much over a relatively short period of time, 40 years, let alone hundreds or thousands of years, like the span of Jewish history.
In fact, someone did more research, and apparently, the women had not asked a rabbi what the place of lesbians in Judaism was. They asked a rebbitzen, a rabbi's wife. She said, "Oh its no big deal, it's like chometz at the seder table," To her, apparently, lesbianism was not a big issue.
Rabbi Rebecca Alpert actually wrote a book by the title, 'Like a Crust of Bread on the Seder Table,' about Jewish lesbians.
We ended up writing our own Jewish feminist haggadah, which eventually made its way around the country.
The haggadah featured gender inclusive Hebrew language, female names for God, including
Go-alteynu, a feminization of Goaleynu, meaning our Redeemer, which is used in the traditional Haggadah, and Miriam and I came up with a special name, Rachamaimah, a combined word made up of Rechem, womb and Emah, Mother, that we translated as Compassionate Womb Mother.
Like the Havurah and its Siddur Project which aims for gender inclusivity in Hebrew for both God and people, we sought to include women and to use both female and male God language. Our haggadah also included original songs about Jewish women throughout history, midrashim about women, and already published materials, like a poem from Rabbi Lynn Gottlieb, EM Broner's writings about the 4 daughters, as well as traditional haggadah material. We also focused on general issues of justice for all, including standing up to racism, ending poverty and working for peace with Palestinians and promoting freedom for all.
The story I wrote helped many people who were excluded. In particular, it helped a Latinx Jewish man to come out to his parents. It's always nice when one's writing goes out into the world, like a child, and in its own way, helps people. That was the point of the story, to make the world more just and inclusive.
We had a very successful and beautiful seder for about 60 women. We had made the difficult decision to have the seder be only for Jewish women, because this was our first time, and we wanted that focus for this one occasion.
In fact many women who were not Jewish had helped with the Haggadah, by providing beautiful illustrations and spiritual and emotional support.
There were also Jewish men, like the Hillel Rabbi and the professor of Judaic studies that were very supportive of us in every way, and they also provided funding for the haggadah and seder. They were very proud of us and really could not have been more encouraging.
So to be inclusive, which was always our intention, we had a workshop after the seder, that was open to everyone. In this way, everyone who wanted to, could be a part of our ongoing project.
Looking back, now that Pesach is coming, I feel so glad to have been part of that group. There was such a a good feeling among us, a love of Judaism and a deep desire to be empowered and free as women, for the liberation of women to be an integral part of Judaism and to help create a Judaism, that is committed to women's liberation and the liberation and freedom of all human beings.
Just as the story of our ancestors' liberation from bondage inspired so many generations of Jews, Enslaved Africans, African Americans in the Civil Rights movement, campesinos in El Salvador and Guatemala, and many other groups, we wanted women to have liberation as well.
In a similar way, the Havurah has dedicated itself to inclusion, liberation and justice for women and men, for LGBTQIA people, for those with disabilities, to feeding the hungry, working for housing justice, promoting racial justice, standing up for the rights of immigrants and working for peace between Jews and Palestinians.
I am glad to have been a member of Miriam's Timbrel, the Oberlin Women's Haggadah Collective and equally glad to be a part of Havurat Shalom. Both groups embody a living, ongoing commitment to justice, peace, inclusion, equality and liberation.
Living as we do in these deeply challenging and troubling times, it is my hope and intention to be a part of this community and others that actively work for the liberation and transformation of our society and world into one that is humane, just peaceful and loving for all beings.
It has never felt so sadly true, that as the Rabbis say, in each generation Pharoahs and tyrants rise up against us, and our "us" must include all people, immigrants, African Americans, the People of Gaza and Palestine - everyone. And we can continue to use the seder and The Story of Yitziat Mitzrayim, the Exodus from Egypt, to promote liberation, inclusion, justice, love and freedom
Next year in a just and loving world for all beings. Next year in a Jerusalem/Al Quds at peace. Maybe it be so!
I had asked Miriam Bronstein if I could join. Though Miriam, a former Havurah member, is a very friendly, welcoming person, she was hesitant to let anyone else into the group. Jewish events at Oberlin were not good. Whether traditional or not, they lacked kavannah/intention and ruach/spirit. This group was gelling and felt good, and she did not want to disturb that good spirit of the group.
However, a story I had written, called "A Crust of Bread at the Seder Table," settled the question, and I was in! Once I showed Miriam and everyone that story, it did its magic. They wanted the story, and I came along with it. The rest is herstory.
I had come across a very short piece of news in 'The New Womens Times', a feminist newspaper. It was around 1982. A group of Jewish women had asked a Rabbi, what was the place of lesbians in Judaism. He answered that the place of lesbians in Judaism was like chometz, unleavened bread, at the seder. The women responded by putting a crust of bread on the seder table to symbolize the inclusion of lesbians.
Very taken by the story, I decided to embellish it, and make it in a literary tale, while still keeping the basic story intact. I did so and loved the story. I did not know at the time I wrote it, that the story would become so influential.
Our women's group, in the spring semester of 1983 put the story into our haggadah, and we then had to decide, what do we do? Would we put a crust of bread on the seder table for our seder? Or not?
There was a halachic debate about this among our group. Initially women said we should follow their custom and do as they did. Other women disagreed. Just because this rabbi says lesbians are like chometz, does not make it so; actually, one woman said, the rabbi, with his puffed up and arrogant judgements, is chometz. There was a real concern about how we should proceed. Other women felt that we should not abandon all distinctions, that some were important to keep, like the difference between matzah and chometz.
Finally, one woman came up with a beautiful solution. She suggested we leave an open place on the seder plate, Makom, which means place, and also is a word for God, the Place of the World. This open place is to welcome and include anyone and everyone, including lesbians, who have been left out or excluded. Everyone loved this beautiful, elegant solution. And so we decided to add Makom to our seder plate.
A year or so later, Susannah Heschel, a Jewish Feminist theologian (and daughter of Abraham Joshua Heschel, a Rabbi, theologian, writer and civil rights and anti-war activist,) came to Oberlin for Passover. She thought we had put bread on the sseder table, (which was a misunderstanding- we had never done this), and she was uncomfortable with this. She proposed putting an orange on the seder plate to include lesbians. And this custom stuck, and many people now put an orange on the seder plate.
Then apparently, some people were uncomfortable with lesbians, so the orange on the seder table got changed to women rabbis on the the bimah, or lectern, in the shul. Apparently, someone said women have as much place on the bimah as an orange, ie. we women are totally irrelevant.
It is quite fascinating to see how a story can change so much over a relatively short period of time, 40 years, let alone hundreds or thousands of years, like the span of Jewish history.
In fact, someone did more research, and apparently, the women had not asked a rabbi what the place of lesbians in Judaism was. They asked a rebbitzen, a rabbi's wife. She said, "Oh its no big deal, it's like chometz at the seder table," To her, apparently, lesbianism was not a big issue.
Rabbi Rebecca Alpert actually wrote a book by the title, 'Like a Crust of Bread on the Seder Table,' about Jewish lesbians.
We ended up writing our own Jewish feminist haggadah, which eventually made its way around the country.
The haggadah featured gender inclusive Hebrew language, female names for God, including
Go-alteynu, a feminization of Goaleynu, meaning our Redeemer, which is used in the traditional Haggadah, and Miriam and I came up with a special name, Rachamaimah, a combined word made up of Rechem, womb and Emah, Mother, that we translated as Compassionate Womb Mother.
Like the Havurah and its Siddur Project which aims for gender inclusivity in Hebrew for both God and people, we sought to include women and to use both female and male God language. Our haggadah also included original songs about Jewish women throughout history, midrashim about women, and already published materials, like a poem from Rabbi Lynn Gottlieb, EM Broner's writings about the 4 daughters, as well as traditional haggadah material. We also focused on general issues of justice for all, including standing up to racism, ending poverty and working for peace with Palestinians and promoting freedom for all.
The story I wrote helped many people who were excluded. In particular, it helped a Latinx Jewish man to come out to his parents. It's always nice when one's writing goes out into the world, like a child, and in its own way, helps people. That was the point of the story, to make the world more just and inclusive.
We had a very successful and beautiful seder for about 60 women. We had made the difficult decision to have the seder be only for Jewish women, because this was our first time, and we wanted that focus for this one occasion.
In fact many women who were not Jewish had helped with the Haggadah, by providing beautiful illustrations and spiritual and emotional support.
There were also Jewish men, like the Hillel Rabbi and the professor of Judaic studies that were very supportive of us in every way, and they also provided funding for the haggadah and seder. They were very proud of us and really could not have been more encouraging.
So to be inclusive, which was always our intention, we had a workshop after the seder, that was open to everyone. In this way, everyone who wanted to, could be a part of our ongoing project.
Looking back, now that Pesach is coming, I feel so glad to have been part of that group. There was such a a good feeling among us, a love of Judaism and a deep desire to be empowered and free as women, for the liberation of women to be an integral part of Judaism and to help create a Judaism, that is committed to women's liberation and the liberation and freedom of all human beings.
Just as the story of our ancestors' liberation from bondage inspired so many generations of Jews, Enslaved Africans, African Americans in the Civil Rights movement, campesinos in El Salvador and Guatemala, and many other groups, we wanted women to have liberation as well.
In a similar way, the Havurah has dedicated itself to inclusion, liberation and justice for women and men, for LGBTQIA people, for those with disabilities, to feeding the hungry, working for housing justice, promoting racial justice, standing up for the rights of immigrants and working for peace between Jews and Palestinians.
I am glad to have been a member of Miriam's Timbrel, the Oberlin Women's Haggadah Collective and equally glad to be a part of Havurat Shalom. Both groups embody a living, ongoing commitment to justice, peace, inclusion, equality and liberation.
Living as we do in these deeply challenging and troubling times, it is my hope and intention to be a part of this community and others that actively work for the liberation and transformation of our society and world into one that is humane, just peaceful and loving for all beings.
It has never felt so sadly true, that as the Rabbis say, in each generation Pharoahs and tyrants rise up against us, and our "us" must include all people, immigrants, African Americans, the People of Gaza and Palestine - everyone. And we can continue to use the seder and The Story of Yitziat Mitzrayim, the Exodus from Egypt, to promote liberation, inclusion, justice, love and freedom
Next year in a just and loving world for all beings. Next year in a Jerusalem/Al Quds at peace. Maybe it be so!
Shifra Freewoman is a long-time member of Havurat Shalom.
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