The Festival of Song

It’s 1998, and Prince of Egypt has just come out in the movie theaters. I am excited to see it, not only be-cause it’s the first movie since The Ten Commandments to tackle the essential story of our people, but also because one of my favorite teachers, Burt Visotzky, professor of Midrash at JTS, has consulted on the film. I can’t wait to see the DreamWorks interpretation of the Exodus, and wonder if I’ll be able to notice where the midrashim are woven into the story. I go with my best friend to the theater, and we’re immediately taken in by the film. The story goes by almost too quickly, and now we’re in the midst of the plagues. As the frogs come up upon the earth, my friend and I simultaneously turn to each other and quietly begin to sing: “One morning when Pharaoh awoke in his bed…”

Pesaḥ is a holiday that engages us on so many levels. There are sights, sounds, smells, and tastes that im-mediately remind us of our Passover experiences. Any time I smell freshly cut parsley (the curly kind, not the flat-leaf stuff) my nose takes me back to my mother’s kitchen, where I stood with her preparing sprigs to become the karpas on the seder plate. I honestly prefer the taste of Pesaḥdik mandelbrot, because it reminds me of my family’s special Pesaḥ dessert. But for me, nothing is as evocative of Pesaḥ as the songs.

The songs of the holiday, from the traditional to the contemporary, have always stayed with me. Whenever I hear or sing them, I am transported to when I first learned them or sang them in a particular context; these songs always make me smile. They help to keep Pesaḥ with me all year long, and make my celebration of the festival one that encompasses both the collective memory of liberation from slavery and my personal memories of enriching my holiday with song. Put more simply, the songs make everything about Pesaḥ more fun.

I can still remember how, when I was in first grade, we spent a few days in April learning “The Ballad of the Four Sons,” cleverly set to the tune of “Oh My Darling Clementine.” How thrilled I was to be able to sing it at my family’s seder, and to have something unique to offer my family’s celebration. “Eḥad Mi Yodea?” (also very popular in its English version, “Who Knows One?”) was another favorite. My brother and I would sing it for hours—well into May. Even now, whenever I mention the Mishnah my husband, Jeff, launches into: “Six are the books of the *pause* Mishnah; and five are the books of the *pause* Torah…” all the way until (and here he gets really animated): “One is Hashem; One is Hashem; ONE IS HASHEM!!!! In the heavens and the earth.”

I’m still making new memories with these songs. One year, when living in Israel, I learned a new melody for “Ḥad Gadya,” a lilting and joyous melody originally by Cantor Moyshe Oysher. (Check out a fun re-cording/video montage of it on YouTube!) As our seder went into the wee hours of the morning, we were exhaustedly elated as we sang the refrain over and over to conclude our re-enactment of the Exodus from Egypt. Each year, I now look forward to singing that melody in addition to my other old favorites.

These songs bring a measure of joy to the end of the seder. After exploring the themes of the miracle of the Exodus, participating in ancient rituals, and eating a delicious meal, we are tired—but somehow, not too tired to sing. At most sedarim I’ve attended, those present get a second wind just in time for these songs. I imagine that the seder songs also remind others around the table of their formative memories of learning, singing, and sharing these gems of the Haggadah. Tired, satiated, a little punchy—it’s almost as if each of us is half-present in the moment, enjoying festive company and delightful melodies, and half-immersed in our past experiences with these songs, remembering the tunes we used to use, or family members who are no longer there to join in the singing. Each year, we add another layer of memories to these experiences, and each year, our singing becomes that much more layered, that much richer.

While the traditional songs of the seder are found at the end of the Haggadah and, like zemirot on Shabbat, are meant to bring a festive conclusion to the seder ritual, there are other places to in-clude moments of song—well beyond “Dayeinu.” Although it is traditional for the youngest present to chant the Four Questions, invite others to join along, or have a number of different people chime in. In the passage immediately following the Four Questions, the answer, “Avodim Hayinu” (we were slaves), has been set to a catchy tune. The order of the seder itself—the 15 steps that make up the evening—has a number of different melodies. Sing it at the beginning of the seder, or sing each step as it occurs, adding a new phrase to the song periodically throughout the night. Keep young children present feeling involved by inviting them to sing Passover songs they’ve learned at any point during the seder. Particularly if you anticipate being too tired, or having to put the kids to bed before the end of the seder, make sure to include some of the traditional songs earlier in the ritual.

While many of these songs are included in the text of the Haggadah, a number of the more contemporary songs are harder to pin down. We’ve included a tear-out song sheet on page 14 for you to use at your seder this year. Please feel free to reproduce it, and share it with those around the table with you.

The songs of the seder go back many hundreds of years, and continue to grow and change into our times with new melodies, new experiences, and whole new compositions. It would be virtually impossible to include every song in your seder, but adding even one new song will certainly bring more joy to your celebration. The memories you create with these songs will stay with your family—and each year, they will bear new and precious fruit.

May you and your families have a joyous, melodious Pesaḥ,

Rabbi Marci Jacobs