Celebrating Passover with Our Unity Family  

The Passover seder (from the Hebrew word for order) is a ritual meal and service that has been celebrated in the homes of Jewish families for over a thousand years, but over the years other spiritual groups have also used the seder as an affirmation of the desire to move toward freedom.  

Historically it began as a celebration of the liberation of the Hebrew people from slavery under the oppression of the Egyptians, but many groups have used the imagery of the flight from bondage—most notably, in the Civil Rights struggle in America– as a symbol for more recent political and spiritual change.

But why is having a seder at Unity important to me?  I was raised by nonpracticing Jews who fled from bondage in Brooklyn (I’m only half-kidding) and who were devout non-practicers of their religion.  Sure, I was jealous of the glittering Christmas trees of my non-Jewish friends, but secretly I wanted something, something I couldn’t name, but which I now know was a connection to something greater, to Spirit.  

Passover was the only holiday we really celebrated, probably because there was a book–the Haggadah— to tell you what to do—and terrific foods to prepare.  And oh my God, my family was all about the food!  I remember our seders fondly as times of closeness and hilarity.

And that’s how our seders at the church had been till COVID shut things down.  I found and tinkered with a Haggadah that was easy to read, found recipes that were vegetarian, wheat-free, and nonalcoholic so that everyone could partake, and the seders were wonderful nights of sharing and fun.  

And that is what I hope will happen this year: that people will sign up to bring a certain food (recipes provided) and that we will celebrate much as Jesus and his disciples did at the last supper.  If you have any questions, please call me at 518-461-5205.
My best to all, Sue Oringel

Passover Seder Event page

POEM by Sue Oringel:

The Last Bread and Wine

He was tired, preoccupied at the seder, not his fully
present self.  He’d wanted to teach them so much
and time was running out. Not only did they not
believe they too were one with the Father, that they
too could perform miracles, they were squabbling
like children about who would sit next to him.
When he’d washed their feet, reversing roles, it only
shocked them. He felt sorrow for how they would
grieve and even allowed himself to feel that loss,
 and for a moment, his feelings about losing them.
Which led to thinking about what he was yet to
 undergo.  But not alone, he reminded himself,
never alone, resting in the everpresence of his Abba,
a golden enfolding light.  His hands grazed the ridged,
unleavened bread still warm from the fire and he
smelled the wine’s sweet spice.  Yes, maybe
a ritual celebrating the fruits of this earth might be
a way to bind them to him forever, and to the
message he had tried to give in every way…

Sue Oringel