Passover is perhaps the most well-known of Jewish holidays, and, historically, the Seder has been the most celebrated of Jewish holiday traditions. In large Jewish communities, Seder provisions are easily accessible, and many begin preparations long before the holiday. But for lone travelers and those who live far from centers of Jewish life, making the Seder can be a challenge.
So in a sixty-year Chabad tradition, rabbinical students travel the world, bringing the entire Seder to Jews who live far from the madding crowds. Here are some glimpses of their experiences.
1/9
Moscow, Russia
Pickpocket at the Prison Seder
Shaye Deitsch, Shaarei Tzedek Social Center & Marina Roscha Synagogue
Over a decade ago I started hosting a Seder in the Butyrka Prison in Moscow. It’s an old prison. Under the Soviet regime, it housed political prisoners, including Chabad Chasidim.
When I first arranged the Seder, the prison’s administrators gave me clear guidelines: everything about the traditional Seder would be allowed except alcohol. I alone was permitted to drink wine. So I brought one small bottle of wine for myself and grape juice for everyone else.
Everything went wonderfully. I poured myself the first cup and drank it, and then I poured the second cup. But when I drank the second cup, instead of wine, there was juice in my cup.
It didn’t take me long to figure out what had happened. The man sitting next to me was an experienced pickpocket and had helped himself to my cup of wine. Not wanting to make a fuss, I stealthily poured my wine bottle into a grape juice bottle, and filled the wine bottle with juice.
I got to drink the last two cups of wine undisturbed.
2/9
Austin, Texas
DANCE PAUSE
Mendy Levertov, Chabad Young Professionals
My parents made a public Seder each year for college students in Austin, Texas. By the time I was eight years old, I knew to look forward to the dancing that always came at the end. But just as the fun was about to begin, a tall man walked in with a cowboy hat and a guitar case. He’d just finished playing a gig at a local bar. “Mendy,” my father said, “Would you like to go through the Seder with him?” I didn’t want to miss the dancing, but I decided to go for it.
I gave the man some wine and a Seder plate with a tray of matzah. Then I guided him through the entire Seder. I convinced him to drink all four cups and eat the minimum matzah and maror required. By the time I let him go, the crowd was gone, and the dancing was long over.
Years later, I got regards from a friend. He told me that he’d met an Orthodox-looking guy in Israel. They got to talking, and when the man learned that my friend was from Austin, he laughed. Recalling the time he rocked into a Seder just as it was ending, the man said, “This earnest little kid at Chabad inspired me, walking me through the entire Seder.”
3/9
Huacachina, Peru
STAY FOR KIDDUSH
Yisroel New, Beit Chaim Meir Chabad Center, Lexington, Massachusetts
A friend and I spent Passover in the tiny desert vacation village of Huacachina, Peru. The weekend ahead of the Seder, we schmoozed-up the dozens of fellow Jews we encountered, wrapped lots of tefillin, and even hosted a Shabbat meal. But Passover fell on Wednesday, and, by then, all the tourists had left.
Cellphone reception in the village was spotty, so on the morning of the Seder, I was hanging out of a window to take a phone call. It was the Chabad emissary from Bogotá, Colombia, calling. “The Israeli ambassador to Colombia is vacationing in Huacachina,” he said. “He’d like to join your Seder.”
The ambassador had been told to expect a large crowd, so when he showed up with his wife, two children, and three bodyguards, he was taken aback to discover that he was the only guest. They didn’t want to be rude, so they asked just to take some wine and matzah and be on their way.
“Sure, but why don’t you just stay for Kiddush?” I offered. I spoke in Hebrew to make them feel comfortable and asked them to sing the songs they sing at home. We discussed our way through the Seder. They must have had a good time because they ended up staying late into the night. By 2 a.m. the kids needed to go to bed, and we reluctantly parted ways.
4/9
Macon, Georgia
NO COINCIDENCE
Chaim Markovitz, Chabad of Rural Georgia, Atlanta, Georgia
It was in Macon, at Georgia’s first public Seder, and the beautiful tunes of Hallel were drifting through the Marriott hotel. The thirty of us at the Seder had just opened the door for Elijah and were singing our hearts out when we heard a man shouting violently in the hallway. Were we under attack?
A big man in Harley Davidson gear came rushing in shouting, “Is this a Passover Seder? In Macon?! Good Yom Tov!” He sported a heavy Brooklyn accent.
David grew up with adoptive parents in the Bronx, and rode his Harley down South to meet his biological siblings for the first time. After an emotional meeting, he checked into the nearest hotel, and felt forlorn to be spending Passover alone in a strange place. When he saw kids with yarmulkes playing in the hotel lobby and heard the familiar tunes of Hallel wafting from the Seder, he couldn’t believe it. With tears streaming down his face, he joined the Seder.
“Nothing is by chance,” he told me. “This Seder is exactly what I needed tonight.”
This article appeared in the Spring 2022 issue of the Lubavitch International magazine. To download the full magazine and to gain access to previous issues please click here.
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