The decision to hold a Seder celebration at Quinn Chapel AME church on the Near South Side this past week was intentional, according to Rabbi Tamar Manasseh.
Located at 2401 S. Wabash Ave., the church was once a stop on the Underground Railroad where slaves sought and found refuge on their way to what they hoped would be a better life in the North.
For Manasseh, who is Black, the event, billed as Feast of Freedom An American Seder, was a chance to combine two defining traits.
“It was a chance to combine my Judaism — with another — the legacy of strength and perseverance of my ancestors, who moved to freedom through Underground Railroad stops just like this church,” she said.
While Manasseh is a member of Beth Shalom in Marquette Park, she chose the church not only because of its historical significance but because she feels its stories are currently under attack by the Trump administration.
In recent days, the National Park Service reversed edits and restored content to its webpage about Harriet Tubman and the Underground Railroad after public backlash over the changes.
A spokesperson with the park service said changes were made without approval from NPS but didn’t say who ordered the changes. The issue comes amid sweeping government changes to comply with President Donald Trump’s campaign against diversity, equity and inclusion policies in government.
A Seder is a feast traditionally held at the beginning of Passover, which commemorates the liberation of ancient Hebrews from slavery in Egypt.
For Manasseh — who is also the founder of Mothers Against Senseless Killings (MASK), an organization she founded in 2016 in response to a murder in Englewood — it was vital to combine the remembrance of ancient Hebrews to the more recent history of American Blacks, who were also enslaved.
“I can’t forget that I’m Black when I’m celebrating Passover. I can’t forget the actual stories of real people in my family who actually lived through the modern exodus,” Manasseh said, adding the struggles of Blacks to overcome slavery are just as relevant as the story of the ancient Hebrews.
“It’s hard for me as a Jew to say we’re going to tell a story about coming out of slavery and then skip over the part where my ancestors truly did come out of slavery. Slavery is slavery, no matter who was enslaved.”
About 100 multiracial Jews, Christians and some who identify as non-religious attended Thursday night’s Seder, and some noted that incorporating the story of American slavery into Passover made it more palpable.
Andrea Cordts, who came from Morton Grove and hosted a Seder for her family on Sunday, said Manasseh’s decision to bring the story of American slaves into the program made it more relatable.
“It’s more tangible than a story that we’ve been reading for 5,000 years,” Cordts said.
Minister Johnny Banks, a Christian minister for the Wayside Chapel in Englewood, said he attended to learn more about the Jewish community and thought Manasseh’s idea fostered unity between Jews and Blacks like himself.
“It’s a unity thing. Slavery is slavery, it doesn’t matter what color you are. Many groups have transcended that time, but many African American people are still struggling to make the necessary changes to unslave ourselves,” Banks said.
While Passover officially began Saturday, Manasseh said she held the Seder Thursday because most Jews celebrate the actual start of the holiday at home with their families.
While traditional Jewish foods were served like matzo to symbolize the haste with which people were forced to flee Egypt (before bread could rise) and bitter herbs that symbolize the bitterness of slavery, Manasseh said she combined other foods like barbecue chicken to symbolize the combined message of the event.
Highlighting the bridge between Jews and Blacks continued with guest speakers the Rev. Sharon Risher, author of “For Such a Time As This: Hope and Forgiveness after the Charleston Massacre,” and Rabbi Capers Funnye, Jr., chief rabbi of The International Israelite Board of Rabbis.
“Our communities are directly linked,” said Jen Daniels-Lake, a white Jewish woman who came from Vernon Hills. “Justice is a big part of the Jewish religion. We’re here to support that struggle for everyone.”
Contributing: AP
