Second Annual Pride Seder Celebrates LGBTQ Jews 

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• Co-organizer Jason Lorber speaking to attendees

Six rainbow candles were lit at Ohavi Zedek Synagogue in Burlington on September 6 — the night of the second annual Pride Seder. About 30 people attended the celebration of LGBTQ freedom modeled on the Passover seder.

The event followed the structure of a Passover seder with modern twists: The lack of ritual handwashing symbolized that participants were already "whole and pure," references to God weren't gendered, and symbols of LGBTQ history replaced seder plate staples.

The celebration coincided with Vermont's Pride Week in September, rather than with Passover in April. A fall seder is not unheard of — some Sephardic Jewish communities hold a seder on the first night of Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year.

"It's like Christmas in July!" Ohavi Zedek rabbi Aaron Philmus said.

The pride seder tradition dates back to 1996, when B'nai Jeshurun, a synagogue on the Upper West Side of Manhattan, held a Stonewall Shabbat Seder. The inaugural event commemorated the 1969 Stonewall riots, a turning point for LGBTQ civil rights when people fought back against a police raid at the Stonewall Inn, a gay club in New York City. Since then, synagogues across the country have created their own versions of the event. In Burlington, co-organizer Jason Lorber said he adapted Ohavi Zedek's Haggadah — the text recited at the seder — from San Francisco synagogue Sha'ar Zahav's pride seder.

The lighting of the rainbow candles was followed by the first cup of water — a nod to the four cups of wine traditionally drunk at Passover seders. The water's transparency represented LGBTQ Jews' "historical invisibility," according to the Haggadah.

Symbols of pride were scattered throughout the seder. Instead of matzah, participants ate fruitcake. Challah, traditionally covered on Shabbat, was left bare — an invitation to be true to oneself "without shame or embarrassment."

"It's like having the Jewish half of my life meet the sexual gender identity part of my life and come together in a way that's just like, I'm not hiding anything anymore," attendee Lynda Siegel said.

The items on the seder plate referenced historical moments of LGBTQ oppression and resilience. An inverted pink triangle alluded to the symbol that the Nazis forced those they labeled as gay to wear in concentration camps. A bundle of sticks represented "the faggot" and honored those "murdered for their love of one another," according to the Haggadah. A brick and stones represented items of resistance thrown at the Stonewall riots.

Between prayers, participants turned to their table partners for discussion. Prompts included "How has being different brought you strength?" and "Describe a moment when you stood up for yourself or others."

LGBTQ allies and non-Jews were also welcome at the seder. Tina Lucero isn't Jewish, but she drove almost an hour to attend Pride Seder with her daughter, a bisexual and transgender woman. Fleeing a ban on gender-affirming care, Lucero and her family recently moved to Barre from Oklahoma in search of a more welcoming environment.

Lucero thought Pride Seder would be "a great way" for her and her daughter "to try to get involved," she said. "Just to be able to meet people that are accepting of her and we feel comfortable around."

The last words of a traditional seder are "Next year in Jerusalem." Pride Seder ended with "No. Not next year. Now and always. And not anywhere else, but here and everywhere." Then the group sang "We Shall Overcome," an anthem of the civil rights movement.

"It's about how far we've come as an LGBT community, recognizing the triumphs and the oppression," Lorber said of the seder. "It's a time for reflection, a time for joy, and a time for deep contemplation and meaning. It's a really beautiful experience."