On the first day of the feast of Unleavened Bread,

the disciples approached Jesus and said:

“Where do you want us to prepare for you

to eat the Passover?” …“The Teacher says,

“My appointed time draws near; in your

house I shall celebrate the Passover with

my disciples.” Matthew 26:19


Passover -- celebrating with dearest ones

the providence of Yahweh who directed

death to pass over firstborn of faithful sons,

recalling again and again, a living realization,

that exodus from hostile slavery and extinction.

Mother, wearing her simple shawl of prayer,

lights candles, her special rubric to usher

in the Sabbath, and this feast of walking God’s way.

Who was the mother at Passover that day?

Blessed are You, Lord our God,

Ruler of the universe, who has sustained

us with life, keeping us alive,

enable us to know our blessings! The Haggadah


Mother, daughters, sisters and beloved

prepare the plates: matzah for the hurry

from Pharaoh, unleavened bread broken

to be shared, one piece hidden in a shroud,

buried as afikomen surprise at end of time,

a rising from the depths of death its metaphor,

for Christ said: Take and eat, this is my body; Matthew 26:26

roasted egg, offerings for the temple, life

waiting to be born from a tomb; maror,

the bitter herb of sin and darkness - our

enslavement trapping souls in strife;

charoset, apple-nut-honey mortar

of slavery’s daily building, horrid labor;

karpas, Spring greens that breathe rebirth;

lamb shank bone, our Suffering Servant,

God’s Son – our reconciliation!


Four cups for blessing, one for no one

except “Elijah,” forerunner and

announcer of Messiah, cup of wine

filled and pointing to the very one!

With the cup he took were obvious words:

Drink from it all of you, for this

is my blood of the covenant. Matthew 26:28


Between the first cup and the fourth,

wine dropped on words remember

plagues: blood, frogs, vermin,

wild beasts, pestilence, boils,

hail, locusts, darkness, and most feared

of all – slaying innocent first-borns.

Blood spilled for hardened

hearts, blood spilled again

by hearts but forget, but forever

sealed in forgiveness, there

in the farewell final dinner,

with twelve, fed by the mother

and the women, as they reclined

and only one hateful man declined.


It is our duty, then, to thank and to praise,

to glorify and to extol Him, who performed

all these wonders for our ancestors, and

for us. He took us from slavery to freedom,

from sorrow to joy, from mourning to

feasting, from darkness to great light,

and from bondage to redemption.

Alleluia … Praise the Lord! Haggadah


These words our savior sang

on an incredible Passover night,

a mother not far away,

using ancient  ritual to say:

He is our matzah, our Lamb, our wine,
his death our exodus from death in time.

Return to Lenten Poetic Meditations


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