אוֹר חָדָשׁ עַל צִיּוֹן תָּאִיר

Or hadash, al tsion ta'ir

shine a new light, the world to come is here

וְנִזְכֶּה כֻלָּנוּ מְהֵרָה לְאוֹרוֹ

v'nizkeh chulanu, m'heira l'oro

we go together, toward what the light will show

and we will not be afraid, to march into the darkness

lit up by the light, together we work for justice

For thousands of years across the globe, Jewish people have celebrated Passover and told the story of Exodus as a reminder that we have not always been free. This year, as we witness continuing and devastating violence and destruction of Palestinian life in the name of Jewish safety, it is clearer than ever before: if we act as if our freedom is dependent on the oppression of another people, we will be living a cruel illusion.

Since the massacre of 1200 Israelis on October 7th, 2023, over 70,000 named Palestinians, including some 20,000 children in Gaza, have been killed by the Israeli military in an unconscionable act of collective punishment, with many thousands more still buried under collapsed ruins, or dead of hunger or treatable illnesses. Meanwhile settlers and the IDF running amok in the West Bank have racked up over a thousand dead, and tens of thousands more terrorised and driven from their homes. Each death, whether Palestinian or Israeli, has meant the loss of a human being, none more important than any other.

Yet, both in numbers and breadth of loss, the heaviest price has been paid by over two million Gazan civilians who once led ordinary, if greatly confined lives. Now, their homes turned to rubble, their schools and universities gone and their basic infrastructure – electricity, water, roads - destroyed, the very survival of each Gazan has been an act of resistance.

At this Passover at a time of profound grief we wish to offer hope, prayer and practical action to achieve a better world.

Tonight’s online Seder brings together Jews and allies across communities, generations and borders to mark Passover as both an ancient ritual and a present-day call to justice. Rooted in the story of liberation from slavery, the gathering affirms that Jewish freedom is bound up with the freedom and dignity of others.

First created during Covid as an act of solidarity with Palestinians, this is the seventh annual online Seder organised by BSST, in partnership with JVL and JJP, and now joined by Na’amod. Together, these groups mobilise Jewish communities to oppose occupation, discrimination and violence, and to stand in solidarity with Palestinians as an expression of Jewish values.

The Seder highlights Passover’s universal message of liberation and a shared commitment to equality, safety and self-determination for everyone living between the Jordan River and the Mediterranean Sea. Intentionally inclusive—welcoming people of all levels of observance, ages, and faiths or none—it aims to model a Judaism grounded in justice, dignity and collective responsibility.

The gathering is also a call to action: to organise, advocate and campaign peacefully for a future in which Palestinians, Jews and other communities can live with freedom, security and lasting peace.

A better world is possible. Tonight, we begin by imagining it together.

BSST initiated this Seder but we could never have got it off the ground—or kept it going—on our own. We thank our partners:

• JVL—especially name-checking Mike Cushman(!)—for years of massive tech support, its (Mike’s) contribution of ideas and time, and its promotion to members/supporters.
• JJP for reinvigorating Jewish activist solidarity for Palestine at the turn of the 21st century, inspiring BSST’s creation, and promoting our Seder via its large members /supporters database.
• Na’amod for joining BSST as content organisers this year, bringing energy and commitment to the solidarity community (along with their extensive experience in offering in-person seders each year).

Rabbi Lev Saul for his contribution to just about everything, and to making it all go with a swing!

Nearly all Jewish festivals celebrate our ability to survive persecution, normally with some divine intervention to assist us. There is a typically wry and satisfying Jewish joke about the crucial role of our festival food:

They tried to kill us,

We survived.

Lets Eat!

But this is only part of the story.

In much of our biblical history—and since then—Jews have given as good as we got, and often we have not been innocent victims, eternally persecuted by the people surrounding or governing us. Nothing, nothing justified the Holocaust, nor the pogroms from Imperial Russia to British York, nor the Spanish, Portuguese (and British) expulsions, nor any of the other vicious attacks on Jewish communities that scar our history. Yet today, we are mostly integrated into the countries we landed in and lead ordinary lives.

If we hide from our own truths, evading the fact that people who are Jewish, like everyone else, can be Pharaohs too, oppressors as well as victims, does it really ensure our safety?

We seek a new liberated future where Palestinians and Israelis can live amongst and alongside each other and look after each other as equals - and together shine a light unto the world.

As you prepare your breakfast, think of others (do not forget the pigeon's food)

As you conduct your wars, think of others (do not forget those who seek peace)

As you pay your water bill, think of others (those who are nursed by clouds)

As you return home, to your home, think of others (do not forget the people of the camps)

As you sleep and count the stars, think of others (those who have nowhere to sleep).

As you liberate yourself in metaphor, think of others (those who have lost the right to speak)

As you think of others far away, think of yourself (say: "If only I were a candle in the dark").

At the beginning of the Seder there’s a quiet ritual called Urchatz, the first hand washing. We wash our hands with water, but—unlike many Jewish blessings—we don’t say a prayer.

Traditionally, this connects to ancient Temple purity practices and prepares us to eat vegetables dipped in water. But many people today understand it more symbolically. Today, many of us treat it as a pause—a way to wash off the day and to understand what brings us to the zoom table together.

Nada Shawa is a Scottish Palestinian poet who writes in solidarity with Gaza where she spent her early childhood. This is her poem for our Seder tonight and we are especially grateful to her.

The Refuge of Spring

We celebrated Spring under a grand sycamore tree bearing the most succulent sweet figs. I dream there will be jumaiz figs in heaven, if my Palestinian soul is permitted entry.

Under that sycamore, we cracked our childishly painted eggs an d planned the liberation of our minds. We were blessed by Gaza’s moonlight, which continues to shine on Mother Earth to comfort the exiled. The scent of my mother’s jasmine tree was carried on Gaza’s gentle breeze like a blissful promise.

***

My refuge lies in blooming meadows where the nourished soil’s kiss creates majesties of peace.

My torment lies in Gaza’s obliteration, which has revealed the fraudulent camouflage used by feeble narcissists who seduced my people for generations.

My refuge lies in the splendour of the delicate Japanese Sakura blossoms that release the restrained grief to embrace courageous hope.

My torment lies in the gluttonous profiteers who dispense with the sanctity of life. They carve their murky gas pipelines through our battered hearts for a killer deal.

My refuge lies in Gaza’s sunsets and my mother’s prayer echoing in the ruins of our house she worked a lifetime to build, with love in each brick. It was a house for peace, not war.

My torment lies in deadly oppressors who collude to unleash a wicked aggression, attempting to forever banish human conscience, leaving desolate souls behind.

My refuge lies in my friend’s dewy eyes assuring me, unconditionally, I am part of the human race.

My torment lies in cackling hounds, which devour my bones in a state of delusional victory without the souls they chose to discard long ago.

My refuge lies on winding roads free from barriers of injustice, through glens of humble courage and kind hearts.

My torment lies in my ancestors’ spirits as they bear witness to the degradation of humanity; as monsters dance on their desecrated graves.

My refuge lies in the power of the people who are awakening with each passing second, to gaze up at a truthful clear sky.

My torment lies in the stench of complicity, which enabled an unbound killing spree by loathing fascists, forcing me to confront the hatred they attempt to plant in our Palestinian hearts.

My refuge will always lie in the hope of Gaza’s rising spring, with the enduring colours of sumud – steadfastness. The evergreen sprouting resilience of a people that can only grow in strength. We shall write our own stories of eternal love, after surviving heinous contempt to embrace the future, with all the ghosts of spring.

“If the olive tree remembered its planter, its oil would become tears.”

Tonight, dipping green vegetables into salt water symbolizes both sorrow and hope. The salt water recalls the tears of enslaved peoples—historically and today—including Palestinians affected by occupation, victims of violence in Gaza, and Israeli hostages and their families. The green vegetables represent growth, renewal, and spring, reminding us that liberation and renewal emerge through hardship, blending grief with the promise of ongoing freedom.

We dip a green vegetable in salt water, and say:

בָּרוּךְ‭ ‬אַתָּה‭ ‬יי‭ ‬אֱלֹהֵינוּ‭ ‬מֶלֶךְ‭ ‬הָעוֹלָם‭, ‬בּוֹרֵא‭ ‬פְּרִי‭ ‬הָאֲדָמָה

Baruch Atah Adonai Eloheinu melech ha’olam, borei pri ha-adamah.

Blessed are You, Eternal God, sovereign of the universe, who creates the fruit of the earth.

Na’amod Protective Presence Work

Na'amod utilises “protective presence” as a form of nonviolent direct action in the occupied West Bank to stand in solidarity with Palestinian communities facing violence in the villages of Massafer Yatta. Last year a group of 5 Na’amod activists undertook protective presence work in the Masafer Yata region. Na'amod is committed to regularly sending out further groups. Below is a short video from one of the team reflecting on their recent experience.

Read more

Burin Kite Festival

To exemplify grief and hope we highlight Na’amod's support for the Solidarity with the Burin Kite Festival to support hope for a better future.

Read more

Kotof El-khair Association

We also hold up the Kotof El-khair Association, a community group in central Gaza’s Deir el-Balah. Funded by BSST, the association provides a wide range of services including cultural events, a kindergarten for 100 children, women’s rights workshops, disability support training, free medical days, children’s summer camps, and humanitarian aid. We will play their uplifting video they produced last year (although we know they have incurred so much more hardship and grief since the video was produced).

Central to Pesach is Matzah: the bread of affliction, a flat cracker baked in extreme haste by those fleeing oppression who had no time to wait for the dough to rise. The matzah reminds us that when the chance for liberation comes, we must seize it even if we do not feel ready — indeed, if we wait until we feel fully ready, we may never act at all.

Yachatz is the step in the Passover seder where the middle of three pieces of matzah (unleavened bread) is broken in two.

Ha Lachma Anya - this is the bread of affliction

הָא לַחְמָא עַנְיָא דִי אֲכָלוּ אַבְהָתָנָא בְּאַרְעָא דְמִצְרָיִם. כָּל דִכְפִין יֵיתֵי וְיֵיכֹל, כָּל דִצְרִיךְ יֵיתֵי וְיִפְסַח הָשַׁתָּא הָכָא, לְשָׁנָה הַבָּאָה בּֽעׇלמׇא דֽתֽיָא. הָשַׁתָּא עַבְדֵי, לְשָׁנָה הַבָּאָה בְּנֵי חוֹרִין

Ha lachma anya di achalu avhatana b’ara d’mitzrayim. Kol dichfin yeitei ve-yeichol, kol ditzrich yeitei v’yifsach. Hashata hacha, l’shanah habaah be’alma ditya. Hashata avdei, leshanah habaah bnei chorin.

This is the bread of affliction that our ancestors ate in the land of Egypt. All those who are hungry let them enter and eat, all who are in need let them enter and celebrate Passover. This year we are here, next year let us be in the world to come. This year we are slaves, next year let us be free people.

Three pieces of matzot are placed on the table. The middle one is broken in half; one half is hidden and later found by children for a small prize.

The broken bread symbolizes hardship and loss — the idea that people and communities are often fractured by history and injustice. But it also points to repair and hope: even if some damage can’t be undone, communities can still rebuild and work toward freedom and equality.Breaking and hiding the bread acknowledges brokenness, while the search for it represents resilience and the possibility of making things better.

Next year, may all Israel-Palestine’s people enjoy the bread of plenty.

Food has now taken on another and terrible significance: as a weapon of war. Over the last two years, Israeli policy has left Palestinians enduring a daily struggle to feed themselves.

In Gaza, IDF tanks reduced agricultural land and produce to mud. UNRWA, the most important aid agency, was vilified and largely shut down. Hundreds of aid workers were killed. For long periods, food aid was completely halted, and even now, in a supposed ceasefire, only a tiny proportion of aid needed is being allowed in.

Meanwhile, the West Bank sees constant vicious assaults by settlers and the IDF against Palestinian villages in Massafer Yatta and in the Jordan Valley. Many villagers in these two target areas for expulsion now rely on food and animal provisions brought in by Israeli Jewish supporters. Two very active Israeli groups, the Jordan Valley Activists and the Villages Group, are grant-aided by BSST, with crucial logistics provided by Rabbis for Human Rights.

While the pervasiveness of settler/IDF attacks on West Bank villages is now being acknowledged, the IDF’s destruction of four refugee camps at gunpoint last spring has been largely forgotten. But not by BSST, and definitely not at this Seder.

We also want to highlight two BSST funded projects that highlight the immense hardship of the occupation and inspiring work of Palestinians and Israelis to resist: Parents Against Child Detention (PACD) and the Al Tafawk centre.

Parents Against Child Detention (PACD)

“Speaking out is resistance. Listening is the beginning of change” says Parents Against Child Detention (PACD) which aims to put Palestinian children at the centre of public discussion in Israel. Via nationwide street events, conferences and art exhibitions in public spaces, it opposes the Israeli state’s cruelty and discrimination against Palestinian children of the West Bank. It also leads trips to military courts to see trials of Palestinian children, provides briefings for diplomats and other internationals, deploys social media, videos, graphics, personal stories and powerful messaging to bring children’s voices to the forefront and break the wall of silence. Banging empty pots - as shown above by BSST-grantee Parents Against Child Detention - has become the symbol of Israeli opposition to starvation as a weapon of war. We will now watch a short message from Moria Shlomot the CEO of PACD.

Al Tafawk

Among the lives and hopes the IDF set out to destroy when it expelled the entire population of the Jenin Refugee Camp were those of the teachers and their poverty-stricken pupils at Al Tafawk, the Camp’s sole children’s centre. More than once before, BSST had helped rebuild Al Tafawk's smashed-up remains after an IDF incursion, but this was to be the final cruelty. Not only had the centre delivered an exciting and creative education, Al Tafawk also ensured its children no longer missed out on the basics: warm clothing, a daily hot meal and a loving and safe environment.

Read more about Parents Against Child Detention

Read more about the Al Tafawk Centre

blessing bread bought from the supermarket our blessing says, thank you God for bringing forth bread from the earth

but this bread didn’t come from the earth it came from a store from a factory from flour ground from wheat from the earth

this bread did not sprout forth it was created from human hands

we don’t thank God for the wheat which actually came from the earth

God did not create bread but God knew we could

my kids ask, why do we pray for God to make peace? I tell them, God makes peace like God makes bread

which is to say we have all the necessary ingredients

peace will not sprout forth it will be created from human hands

thank you God, for giving us the wisdom to turn wheat into bread thank you God, for giving us the wisdom to turn love into peace

Maggid—“telling” or “narrating.”

Go Down Moses

When Israel was in Egypt's land,
Let my people go,
Oppressed so hard they could not stand,
Let my people go.

Refrain: Go down, Moses, way down in Egypt's land,
tell old Pharaoh: Let my people go.

The Lord told Moses what to do,
Let my people go,
to lead the Hebrew children through,
Let my people go.

[Refrain]

As Israel stood by the waterside,
Let my people go,
at God's command it did divide,
Let my people go.

[Refrain]

When they had reached the other shore,
Let my people go,
they let the song of triumph soar,
Let my people go.

[Refrain]

We don’t approach the Exodus as literal history. Instead, we understand it as a formative story that shapes identity through shared memory and ritual. Its power lies in the universal themes it expresses — oppression, resistance, community, and the pursuit of freedom. We also recognise how storytelling and collective narratives play a similar role for Palestinians, helping sustain their identity, resilience, and hope for a better future. Deeply rooted, competing narratives are central to understanding the worsening of the Israel–Palestine conflict, as they shape how each side interprets events and justifies actions. In the hope that both communities can find ways to understand each other better, BSST has helped fund a new play (based on the novel Apeirogon of the Irish author Colum McCann who researched the Israeli Palestinian conflict) that explores the real story relating the the joint journey of a bereaved Israeli and Palestinian father, who, in an exceptionally brave way, found in their personal pain the power of reconciliation. The play has been adapted by Avner Ben-Amos and directed by Sinai Peter and performed at the Jaffa theatre.

Read more

Take some maror and charoset and put them between two pieces of matzah, to recall the wise first century Rabbi Hillel, who in the remembrance of the loss of the Temple, created a Korech sandwich. He said that by eating the Korech sandwich we would taste the bitterness of suffering mixed with the sweetness of liberation. We recite the following before eating the Hillel sandwich:

זֵכֶר לְמִקְדָּשׁ כְּהִלֵּל. כֵּן עָשָׂה הִלֵּל בִּזְמַן שֶׁבֵּית הַמִּקְדָּשׁ הָיָה קַיָּם: הָיָה כּוֹרְכָן וְאוֹכְלָן יַחַד, לְקַיֵּם מַה שֶּׁנֶּאֱמַר: עַל מַצּוֹת וּמְרֹרִים יֹאכְלֻהוּ.

Zecher la-Mikdash ke-Hillel. Ken asah Hillel bizman she-Beit ha-Mikdash hayah kayam: hayah korkhan ve-okhlan yachad, le-kayem mah she-ne’emar: al matzot u-merorim yokhluhu.

A remembrance of the Temple according to Hillel. Thus did Hillel when the Temple stood: he would wrap them and eat them together, to fulfill what is said: ‘They shall eat it with matzah and bitter herbs.

Charoset is a mixture of fruits, nuts, and sweet wine (or juice/spices). It represents the mortar that Jewish slaves used to build in ancient Egypt. Its sticky texture and brown color evoke building clay, while the sweetness suggests hope and freedom after hardship.

Among groups in Gaza that BSST continues to fund, the Haifa Association—introduced to us by Sari Bashi—deserves a mention. This volunteer group has single-handedly kept hundreds of Palestinian children with Type 1 Diabetes alive, by sourcing glucometers, insulin strips and other essentials. How, where from, at what personal and financial cost, we cannot imagine.

Read more

Perhaps one reason why so many Jews still enjoy a Seder is precisely because it connects us to old traditions but allows for reinterpretation and change. Nowadays a Zoom seder enables anyone interested in this ancient family and food-based, ritual to participate.

Pesach (Passover) lasts eight days and nights. The first two nights are special for their ritual seder with its book, the Haggadah (meaning ‘Telling’), and its plate of edible symbols.

It is also endlessly rewritten to echo current concerns, a dialogue between religion and secular sensibilities.

In this Haggadah we highlight the role we believe Jews must play in responding to the tragedy in Gaza and beyond. Our words may provoke discussion, reflection or even contention. We hope that this wrestling with ideas will help lead to meaningful action for justice.

Below we provide tips for your seder participation. These are NOT compulsory, so if you just want to be present, that’s fine!

Different Jewish communities have different rules and practices: in our Haggadah, we—being mostly of Ashkenazi (East European Jewish) background—focus on the traditional Ashkenazi seder Plate. Its six main ingredients are:

Matzah

the unleavened bread (a dry cracker) that Jews ate while in the wilderness Eaten instead of leavened bread for the eight days of Passover.

Zeroah

A shank bone, or maybe a chicken bone. Signifies the paschal sacrifice made before the exodus from Egypt.

Maror

Bitter herbs, usually horseradish or endive, to represent the bitterness of the slavery of our forefathers in Egypt.

Karpas

Greens, herbs of some kind, usually parsley. Used to dip into a bowl of salt water that represents our forefathers’ tears.

Charoseth

A paste, made from apples, walnuts, cinnamon and red wine. Delicious, so we often say ‘we must make it more often’ but don’t! Supposed to represent the mortar Jewish slaves used in Egypt.

Beitzah

A roasted or hard boiled egg. Represents pre-holiday offerings brought to the High Temple. This ritual meal is always changing and being updated. More recent additions include:

Zeteem

Olives- a new ritual supporting peace across Israel-Palestine, remembering the onslaught on the Palestinian community and destruction of hundreds of their olive groves on the West Bank.

Tapuz

First introduced in the ‘80s by American Jewish academic, Susanna Heschel, an orange represents those frequently marginalised by Jewish communities, like women and those who are LGBTQ+. We are meant to spit out any seeds so as to spit out the seeds of sexism and homophobia.

Variations might also involve:

• Roasted beetroot or parsnip instead of animal bone—for vegetarians
• Flower petals rather than the egg—for vegans
• Artichokes—to represent interfaith commitment, while Sephardi tradition includes beating each other with spring onions!
• Wine (or grape juice) is another vital part of the ritual throughout. Sometimes we drink from the wine glass, sometimes we dip our fingers in, and sometimes—bafflingly and annoyingly—we just lift the glass and put it down again!

Beside our Seder plate we also have:

• Salt water, lemon juice or vinegar, symbolizing the tears of the Hebrews oppressed in Egypt
• Elijah’s Cup, a tall glass of wine to honour the Prophet Elijah who represents the unfulfilled potential of liberation; and the lesser known Miriam’s Cup, a glass of water to honour the Prophet Miriam and the leadership of countless women whose names have not been recorded.

The Seder is normally an experience shared around a dinner table. We know that Zooming a Seder is not the same as socialising close together, eating too much, arguing, having fun, and being gloriously irreverent (in how many families has the door been opened to Elijah, only to find an uncle clad in a white sheet outside?). It also includes a lengthy singsong.

We have picked a traditional song to enjoy and the glorious Bella Ciao.

1

אִלּוּ הוֹצִיאָנוּ מִמִּצְרַיִם וְלֹא עָשָׂה בָהֶם שְׁפָטִים — דַּיֵּנוּ

Ilu hotzi’anu mi-Mitzrayim v’lo asah vahem shefatim — Dayeinu

If He had brought us out of Egypt and not judged them — it would have been enough.

2

אִלּוּ עָשָׂה בָהֶם שְׁפָטִים וְלֹא עָשָׂה בֵאלֹהֵיהֶם — דַּיֵּנוּ

Ilu asah vahem shefatim v’lo asah b’eloheihem — Dayeinu

If He had judged them and not their gods — it would have been enough.

3

אִלּוּ עָשָׂה בֵאלֹהֵיהֶם וְלֹא הָרַג אֶת בְּכוֹרֵיהֶם — דַּיֵּנוּ

Ilu asah b’eloheihem v’lo harag et bekhoreihem — Dayeinu

If He had slain their firstborn — it would have been enough.

4

אִלּוּ הָרַג אֶת בְּכוֹרֵיהֶם וְלֹא נָתַן לָנוּ אֶת מָמוֹנָם — דַּיֵּנוּ

Ilu harag et bekhoreihem v’lo natan lanu et mamonam — Dayeinu

If He had given us their wealth — it would have been enough.

5

אִלּוּ נָתַן לָנוּ אֶת מָמוֹנָם וְלֹא קָרַע לָנוּ אֶת הַיָּם — דַּיֵּנוּ

Ilu natan lanu et mamonam v’lo kara lanu et ha-yam — Dayeinu

If He had split the sea — it would have been enough.

6

אִלּוּ קָרַע לָנוּ אֶת הַיָּם וְלֹא הֶעֱבִירָנוּ בְתוֹכוֹ בֶּחָרָבָה — דַּיֵּנוּ

Ilu kara lanu et ha-yam v’lo he’eviranu b’tocho be-charavah — Dayeinu

If He had led us through on dry land — it would have been enough.

7

אִלּוּ הֶעֱבִירָנוּ בְתוֹכוֹ בֶּחָרָבָה וְלֹא שִׁקַּע צָרֵינוּ בְּתוֹכוֹ — דַּיֵּנוּ

Ilu he’eviranu b’tocho be-charavah v’lo shika tzareinu b’tocho — Dayeinu

If He had drowned our enemies — it would have been enough.

8

אִלּוּ שִׁקַּע צָרֵינוּ בְּתוֹכוֹ וְלֹא סִפֵּק צָרְכֵּנוּ בַּמִּדְבָּר אַרְבָּעִים שָׁנָה — דַּיֵּנוּ

Ilu shika tzareinu b’tocho v’lo sipek tzorkeinu ba-midbar arba’im shanah — Dayeinu

If He had sustained us in the wilderness forty years — it would have been enough.

9

אִלּוּ סִפֵּק צָרְכֵּנוּ בַּמִּדְבָּר וְלֹא הֶאֱכִילָנוּ אֶת הַמָּן — דַּיֵּנוּ

Ilu sipek tzorkeinu ba-midbar v’lo he’echilanu et ha-man — Dayeinu

If He had fed us the manna — it would have been enough.

10

אִלּוּ הֶאֱכִילָנוּ אֶת הַמָּן וְלֹא נָתַן לָנוּ אֶת הַשַּׁבָּת — דַּיֵּנוּ

Ilu he’echilanu et ha-man v’lo natan lanu et ha-Shabbat — Dayeinu

If He had given us Shabbat — it would have been enough.

11

אִלּוּ נָתַן לָנוּ אֶת הַשַּׁבָּת וְלֹא קֵרְבָנוּ לִפְנֵי הַר סִינַי — דַּיֵּנוּ

Ilu natan lanu et ha-Shabbat v’lo keravanu lifnei Har Sinai — Dayeinu

If He had brought us to Sinai — it would have been enough.

12

אִלּוּ קֵרְבָנוּ לִפְנֵי הַר סִינַי וְלֹא נָתַן לָנוּ אֶת הַתּוֹרָה — דַּיֵּנוּ

Ilu keravanu lifnei Har Sinai v’lo natan lanu et ha-Torah — Dayeinu

If He had given us the Torah — it would have been enough.

13

אִלּוּ נָתַן לָנוּ אֶת הַתּוֹרָה וְלֹא הִכְנִיסָנוּ לְאֶרֶץ יִשְׂרָאֵל — דַּיֵּנוּ

Ilu natan lanu et ha-Torah v’lo hichnisanu l’Eretz Yisrael — Dayeinu

If He had brought us into the Land of Israel — it would have been enough.

14

אִלּוּ הִכְנִיסָנוּ לְאֶרֶץ יִשְׂרָאֵל וְלֹא בָנָה לָנוּ אֶת בֵּית הַבְּחִירָה — דַּיֵּנוּ

Ilu hichnisanu l’Eretz Yisrael v’lo vanah lanu et Beit ha-Bechirah — Dayeinu

If He had built for us the chosen House — it would have been enough.