As we gather around our Seder tables surrounded by family, friends, children, grandchildren, and the traditions that bind us, Passover invites us not only to remember our stories, but to see ourselves in them. This reflection grows out of those moments of conversation, shared memories, and meaning handed down through generations.

“In every generation, they rise against us to destroy us, but the Holy One, blessed be He, saves us from their hand.”

This line of text from the Passover Haggadah became a lively conversation between generations at our Seder tables, an important dialogue between past and present. We read it aloud, and we ask, what does it mean that this happens in every generation?

Our young people seated at the table who are continually learning Jewish history, have much to share. Egypt was not a one-time event. Oppression is not confined to a single place or era. It’s a recurring pattern. Exodus is not only a story of the past. It continues to unfold in different forms, across time and geography.

We began with Pharaoh. And then, throughout the centuries, new faces emerged, as empires sought to destroy us, regimes expelled us, societies excluded us, and mobs terrorized us. The forms change, but the pattern remains. Time after time, Jewish life has been threatened, restricted, and nearly extinguished.

And then we arrive at the most devastating chapter: the Holocaust, in which Nazi Germany sought not just persecution or exile, but total annihilation of over six million Jews murdered, aided by collaborators across Europe.

Even in those darkest times, we remember that there were many brave individuals who risked everything to save Jewish lives. These acts of courage blazed like the candles before us, flickering, fragile, yet impossible to ignore.

At our Seder, we spoke with gratitude for our Chaldean friends and neighbors who came to our aid and took us in. We pointed to our Jewish Federation security professionals, and undoubtedly for all those emergency responders. We continue to marvel and feel gratitude for non-Jewish support from strangers who are speaking out on our behalf. And we wonder out loud,

Who else will stand up for us in this generation, and in the generations to come?

As we remove drops of wine from our glasses that diminish our joy in the face of suffering, we remember that we, as Jews, don’t rejoice in the suffering or deaths of others who may hate us.

“In every generation, they rise against us… but the Holy One, blessed be He, saves us from their hand.”

This is the essence of the Seder itself. Jewish survival is framed not as accident, but as something sustained through faith, through resilience, and a sense of presence beyond human power alone. Egypt was the first example, but certainly not the last. Pharaoh is not just a historical figure, but a prototype.

And we are witnesses to that redemption, as well as participants in it, and in the choices, we make, the communities we build, and the courage we show.

The Passover Seder is not only about telling a story; it’s about marking our place within the pages of this story. We begin with history and remembrance, but we move toward identification. What happened then is not sealed in the past, it reverberates into the present. The yearly ritual of prayers, blessings, and songs insists that we see ourselves as part of an ongoing journey: from oppression toward freedom, from vulnerability toward empowerment, strength, security and stability.

What does it mean for us and for our children to stand up for ourselves and each other? To wear our Stars of David openly, to place the mezuzah on our doorposts, and to live visibly and proudly as Jews? These symbols of our faith are acts of continuity and courage.

“In every generation, forces arise that threaten freedom; yet we endure through spirit, through community, and through the presence of something greater.”

And so, we sit at our Seder tables, the glow of festival and memorial candles reflect in the eyes of our families and friends. We remember those who came before us. We tell their stories. We carry them forward. And we add our own.

May we all continue to summon the courage and strength to carry our stories forward, ensuring they are never lost to the generations that follow.

Chag Sameach

Shabbat Shalom