Why orange on seder plate

While lecturing, Heschel often mentioned her custom as one of many feminist rituals that have been developed in the last 20 years. Somehow, though, the typical patriarchal maneuver occurred: My idea of an orange and my intention of affirming lesbians and gay men were transformed. Now the story circulates that a man said to me that a woman belongs on the bimah [podium of a synagogue] as an orange on the seder plate. Reprinted with permission from www. Prep for Passover like a pro with this special email series.

In Israel, Jews have a seder only on the first night of Passover. Instead, she suggested an orange as a symbol of this inclusion, saying that it represents the fruitfulness of Judaism when gay and lesbian people are actively engaged and included. According to Heschel, the seeds of the orange represent homophobia and symbolically spitting them out is a crucial part of the tradition.

When I learned the true story of the orange I was shaken. Queer history is so often erased, and the Jewish community is guilty of that. It is comforting to know that a woman with such a profound effect on modern Judaism was actively fighting for gay and lesbian inclusion. The symbolism of the objects on the seder plate is crucial to Passover. Correcting the story of the orange is an important part of that. Even after learning the true story, and believing in its importance, I am terrified to bring it up at my family celebration.

While I want to do so, and even plan to do so, actually sharing it still feels like a big step. The history and empowerment of Jewish women are deeply important and personal to me and many of my family members.

Waiting to correct this story and this inequality is unfair to our queer Jewish ancestors. It is unfair to those like Susannah Heschel who have fought for us. Choosing to tell the true story of the orange does not undermine the importance or urgency of Jewish feminism. No one should be asked to choose between their gender and their sexuality, just as no one should be asked to choose between their gender or their sexuality and their Jewishness.

This was so well-said. The way you stood up for what you knew was right while also preserving the importance of the back story you grew up with is truly impressive. Thank you for sharing this story!

Even if you have, I'm sure it's not the true story of how it came to be, so to do my part to put rumors to rest, I present you here with the real story of why people put an orange on the Seder plate.

It started with Dr. Susannah Heschel. The story you may have heard goes something like this: After a lecture given in Miami Beach, a man usually Orthodox stood up and angrily denounced feminism, saying that a woman belongs on a bima pulpit the way an orange belongs on a Seder plate.

To support women's rightful place in Jewish life, people put an orange on their Passover tables. It all started with a story from Oberlin College in the early 's.

Heschel was speaking at the Hillel, and while there, she came across a haggadah written by some Oberlin students to bring a feminist voice into the holiday. In it, a story is told about a young girl who asks a Rebbe what room there is in Judaism for a lesbian. The Rebbe rises in anger and shouts, "There's as much room for a lesbian in Judaism as there is for a crust of bread on the seder plate. Though Heschel was inspired by the idea behind the story, she couldn't follow it literally.

Besides the fact that it would make everything-the dish, the table, the meal, the house-unkosher for Passover, it carried a message that lesbians were a violation of Judaism itself, that these women were infecting the community with something impure. So, the next year, Heschel put an orange on the family seder plate, "I chose an orange because it suggests the fruitfulness for all Jews when lesbians and gay men are contributing and active members of Jewish life.

The symbolism grew to include people who feel marginalized from the Jewish community: the widow, the orphan, women's issues in general, but solidarity with the gay and lesbian Jewish community was at the core. It wasn't a navel orange; it had to have seeds to symbolize rebirth, renewal. And spitting out the seeds reminds us to spit out the hatred and ostracization of homosexuals in our community, and others who feel prejudice's sting.

The orange is segmented, not fragmented. Our community has discrete segments, but they form a whole. The symbolism of the orange may have expanded, but its origins are clearly from a desire to liberate an entire segment of our community from their painful mitzrayim -narrow place.