As Passover approaches, Jewish families across Israel and around the world prepare for the Seder night with the same rituals, the same words, and the same story told for thousands of years. But perhaps the most radical part of the Seder is not what we say, but how we say it.
The Seder is not a monologue. It’s not a sermon or a performance. It is a conversation – often imperfect, sometimes chaotic, and always intergenerational. It is one of the few times in Jewish life at which people of vastly different opinions, beliefs, and backgrounds still sit together and share a common narrative. And it all begins with a question.In the current state of Israeli society, this feels especially relevant.
We are still deep in a national crisis. The war in Gaza continues, our hostages are still not home, and political instability grows with each passing week. A new scandal involving alleged foreign influence at the highest levels of government has shaken public trust yet again.
More concerning that Israel's messy politics
What worries me most, however, are not the external threats or political dysfunction but the way in which we have stopped listening to one another.
Whether on the street, online, or even around the Shabbat table, disagreement so often turns into accusation. Debate becomes dismissal. Opponents are not challenged, they are demonized. And worst of all, too many of us have started to believe that those who vote, think, or protest differently are the true enemy.
Pessah challenges that kind of thinking. It reminds us that real freedom requires humility – the humility to ask questions, to listen with curiosity, and to make space for multiple voices. The Haggadah gives us four children, four perspectives, each one engaged. The point is not to agree – it is to remain in dialogue.
Israel was never meant to be a place of sameness. It was always a gathering of exiles, ideas, and arguments. That diversity is not our weakness – it is our strength. But only if we stay at the table.
That’s what makes the Seder so powerful. We show up. We tell the story. We ask the questions. We listen, even when it’s hard. And we remind ourselves that we are part of something bigger than any one political movement, religious identity, or ideology. We are part of a people.
This year, when we say “Next year in Jerusalem,” let’s think not just about geography, but about aspiration. Let our words be a hope for a Jerusalem where all voices can be heard; where we remember who our real enemies are – and it is not each other.
This year, let “Next year in Jerusalem,” be a call to stay in the conversation, to fight for our future together, and to honor the story by continuing to tell it, side by side.
The writer is the international director of Gesher and the host of the Impacting Israel podcast.