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Take less than a kezayit (the volume of one olive) of the karpas, dip it into salt-water or vinegar, and recite the following blessing: Blessed are You, L-rd, our G-d, King of the universe, who creates the fruit of the earth. When reciting this blessing have in mind that it is also for the bitter herbs (of maror and korech, to be eaten later on). |
טוֹבְלִין כַּרְפַּס פָּחוֹת מִכְזַיִת בְּמֵי מֶלַח, וּמְבָרְכִין. בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה יְיָ אֱלֹהֵינוּ מֶלֶךְ הָעוֹלָם, בּוֹרֵא פְּרִי הָאֲדָמָה. |
We dip a small piece of the vegetable that is on the the Seder plate — parsley, radish, potato, or lettuce — into salt water and recite the blessing:
בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה ה‘, אֱלֹהֵינוּ מֶלֶךְ הָעוֹלָם, בּוֹרֵא פְּרִי הָאֲדָמָה:
Baruch ata Adonai eloheinu melekh ha’olam, borei pri ha’adamah. Blessed are You, Adonai our God, Sovereign of the Universe, Who creates the fruit of the earth.
We eat the dipped vegetable while reclining on our left side. Karpas is Hebrew for a green vegetable.
Karpas, as a pre-meal ritual, has gone through a number of iterations. Reflecting the Greco-Roman custom of eating dipped appetizers before the meal, the Mishnah (Pesachim 10:3) relates, “They bring before them [the tables] and they dip lettuce [hors d’œuvres] . . . . ” In the centuries that followed, the Jerusalem and Babylonian Talmuds and later commentaries described various reasons for the dipping ritual of karpas. These reasons were cultural, gastronomical, seasonal, celebratory, and educational. They included the following:
It is interesting to note that the dipped appetizer goes from cultural norm to vestige. Because of this, the third of the four Ma Nishtana questions asks why we dip at all. The answer reflects a philosophy that is based in common practice. We are who we are because we do what we do. Performing the ritual is important not because it is intrinsically rich with meaning; rather, the ritual is rich with meaning because it is what we do. The ritual identifies us vertically through time and horizontally across cultures. As we travel through time, we carry our tradition’s wisdom and historical memory and layer upon it, bestowing it with contemporary wisdom. This is what keeps it relevant and vibrant.
Commitment to a continuity of ritual practice demands that on an ongoing basis, we pursue and bestow new meaning in our own context. Every generation needs to read itself into the narrative that it has inherited. The Haggadah clearly states, “Bchol dor va’dor . . . . In every generation a person is obligated to envision himself as if he left Egypt.” The obligation is for us to view ourselves within our own situation, with all its past and present nuances. One of the highest compliments we can offer our tradition is to continue to wrestle with it, to find new meaning and relevancy within.
Passover celebrates the spring harvest season, and therefore it resonates in both particular and universal ways. The Jewish celebration of redemption and freedom corresponds to seasonal rebirth in the Western hemisphere. We are, after all, citizens of the world, and we see, celebrate, and are thankful for God’s hand in both human and nature’s development.
Karpas Preceding Yachatz
One way to imagine the order of the Seder is that each of the steps builds upon the preceding step, revealing a sequence that leads to redemption. Seen in this way, the placement of each step is significant. Karpas precedes the moment of Yachatz, the breaking of the matzah.
As we will discuss in the next section, Yachatz symbolically represents breaking the wholeness of our façade, exposing our darkness and hidden sensitivities. It is a difficult first step required in the redemptive process. However, Yachatz alone would be a distortion. Without the balance of Karpas, the truth of human brokenness can breed cynicism.
How does Karpas (the vegetable) prepare us for Yachatz? Like a seed planted in moist soil, karpas rots, cracks, and then sprouts new life. Planting a seed, say the Rabbis, is an act of extreme faith. Every carrot, every stalk of celery, is testimony to the promise of rebirth, the victory of the possible over the inevitable — in a word: hope. The hope of Karpas is springtime’s rebirth after the dead of winter. It inspires us to move through the suffering and slavery to the promise of our own — and our people’s — renewal.
by Amanda McBroom
Some say love, it is a river
That drowns the tender reed.
Some say love, it is a razor
That leaves your soul to bleed.
Some say love, it is a hunger,
An endless aching need.
I say love, it is a flower,
And you its only seed. . . .
When the night has been too lonely,
And the road has been too long,
And you think that love is only
For the lucky and the strong,
Just remember in the winter
Far beneath the bitter snow,
Lies the seed, that with the sun’s love,
In the spring becomes the rose.