An Op-Ed for Passover and Easter in America
By Dr. Benjamin F. Chavis Jr. and Rabbi Dr. Judy Schinder
On behalf of Spill the Honey, we are pleased to offer our collective experience and perspectives on the historical and contemporary context and significance of the Seder at Passover from both the Jewish American and Black American religious traditions.
As Jews gather around the Seder table and Christians move toward the sacred culmination of Easter, the convergence of these seasons calls forth one of the most enduring theological truths in human history: God is a God of liberation. The Passover Seder is not merely ritual remembrance; it is a living, breathing reenactment of divine deliverance. And within Black America, this same story has been reinterpreted, re-sung, and re-lived as a testimony of survival and struggle against oppression.
At the heart of Passover is the Exodus narrative—the story of a people enslaved, crying out, and being delivered by the hand of God. Jewish tradition insists that this is not distant history.
An essential teaching of the Haggadah (the Jewish text that guides the Passover rituals) affirms, “In every generation, one must see oneself as if one personally left Egypt.” This command transforms memory into moral responsibility. The Seder becomes an ethical summons: freedom is not complete until all are free.
Modern Jewish scholarship underscores this theological imperative. Rabbi and theologian Abraham Joshua Heschel famously declared, “In a free society, some are guilty, but all are responsible.” Though brief, this insight resonates profoundly with the Passover mandate. The liberation from Egypt is not simply a national origin story; it is a perpetual call to confront injustice wherever it exists. As contemporary Jewish reflections note, Passover is “the season of our freedom,” a celebration of both physical and spiritual redemption.
The Seder itself dramatizes this theology. The bitter herbs remind participants of suffering; the unleavened bread symbolizes both affliction and liberation; the four cups of wine celebrate stages of redemption. Each element reinforces a central claim: God acts in history on behalf of the oppressed. The Exodus is not just a miracle—it is a moral revelation.
This same revelation has profoundly shaped Black religious consciousness in America. For enslaved Africans and their descendants, the story of Moses confronting Pharaoh became a coded language of hope. Spirituals like “Go Down, Moses” were not simply songs—they were theological declarations. The God of the Hebrews was also the God of the enslaved in America.
No scholar articulated this more forcefully than Dr. James H. Cone at Union Theological Seminary, whose groundbreaking work A Black Theology of Liberation re-centered Christian theology around the experience of the oppressed. Cone wrote, “The God of the oppressed takes sides with the black community,” insisting that divine neutrality in the face of injustice is a theological impossibility. The famed theologian, Dr. Frederick Herzog at Duke University School of Divinity, joined Dr. Cone in unpacking the Judeo-Christian Tradition grounded inclusively in the global theology of liberation.
For Cone, the Exodus was not a distant Biblical episode but the foundational paradigm for understanding God’s activity in the modern world. Black theology, he argued, arises from the recognition that “God is a God of justice” who actively delivers those suffering under systems of domination. The parallels between ancient Egypt and the history of slavery, segregation, and systemic racism in the United States are not incidental—they are theological.
Within Black churches, the Passover motif has long been embedded in preaching, prayer, and protest. Theologian and visionary leader, Reverend Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., frequently invoked the Exodus in his speeches, framing the Civil Rights Movement as a journey from bondage to freedom. In his final speech, King declared, “I’ve been to the mountaintop… I’ve seen the Promised Land,” echoing Moses’ vision and linking the Biblical narrative to the struggle for racial justice in America.
The convergence of Passover and Easter deepens this theological resonance. For Christians, Easter celebrates resurrection—the triumph of life over death. Yet this victory cannot be understood apart from the Passover context in which Jesus lived and died. The Last Supper itself was a Passover meal, grounding the Christian story in the Jewish narrative of liberation.
Thus, both traditions proclaim a God who liberates in Judaism, through the Exodus; in Christianity, through the cross and resurrection. And in Black theology, these narratives are fused into a living testimony that God continues to act in history.
But the relevance of Passover today extends beyond religious observance. In a world marked by growing antisemitism, racial injustice, economic inequality, and political oppression, the question posed by the Seder remains urgent: What does it mean to be free? The Hebrew word for Egypt, Mitzrayim, connotes “narrowness” or “constraint,” suggesting that liberation is not only external but internal — a breaking free from all that diminishes human dignity.
For Black America, this question is both historical and contemporary. The legacy of slavery has given way to new forms of systemic inequality, from mass incarceration to economic disparity. The Exodus story challenges both Jews and Christians to see these realities not as inevitable, but as conditions that demand transformation.
For Jewish America, the historic fear of unsafety is no longer a dormant remnant of intergenerational trauma. The recent burning of a synagogue in Mississippi, the explosive-laden terrorist truck crashing into Temple Israel in Michigan, and the violent assaults aimed at Jews in cities across our country have become an agonizing reality.
Jewish and Black traditions alike insist that memory must lead to action. The Seder begins with the invitation, “Let all who are hungry come and eat,” signaling that liberation is incomplete if it is not shared. This ethic of solidarity aligns with the core insight of liberation theology: faith is not merely belief—it is praxis.
In this sacred season, as matzah is broken and Easter hymns are sung, America stands at a crossroads. Will these rituals remain symbolic, or will they inspire a renewed commitment to freedom, equality, justice, and safety? Today to help answer that question and others, we in Spill the Honey offer a series of film documentaries that celebrate the longstanding solidarity between Blacks and Jews in America at http://www.SpilltheHoney.com
Rev. Dr. Benjamin F. Chavis, Jr. is Spill the Honey Chairman, President and CEO of National Newspaper Publishers Association (NNPA), Liberation Theologian, and Senior Fellow for Divinity and Interdisciplinary Studies at Duke University School of Divinity
Rabbi Dr. Judy Schinder is Spill the Honey Executive Director, Sklut Professor of Jewish Studies at Queens University of Charlotte, and Rabbi Emerita of Temple Beth El in Charlotte.
