“We were slaves … now we are free.” This Saturday evening, Jews around the world will recline at their Passover Seder tables and read a story of liberation from a book called a Haggadah. That story is told in response to four questions, traditionally asked by the youngest child present:

How is this night different from all other nights: (1) On other nights we eat either leavened or unleavened bread; why tonight only unleavened bread? (2) On other nights we eat all kinds of herbs; why tonight only bitter herbs? (3) On other nights we don’t dip even once; why tonight do we dip twice (parsley into salt water, horseradish into charoset — a paste of chopped apples, honey, cinnamon and walnuts)? (4) On other nights we eat either sitting upright or reclining; why tonight do we all recline?

The narrative relates how the ancient Israelites were enslaved in Egypt, how they crossed the Sea of Reeds and worshipped a golden calf and wandered the wilderness for 40 years until they had almost reached the land of their dreams.

The savvy Seder celebrant understands that the story is about us! Each of us is enslaved by whatever keeps us from attaining our full humanity — early experience, lack of opportunity, unexamined prejudices, government indifference or oppression. We all have a sea to cross — whatever is keeping us from getting over and getting through. We all worship a golden calf — money, power, sex, celebrity, fame, intellectual achievement. We all wander the wilderness, and we are all willing to die in that wilderness if only our children can reach the promised land of freedom, equality, and opportunity. The Haggadah is a mythic story because it’s not about what happened — it’s about what happens always and everywhere. It’s about all of us. It’s about you, it’s about me, it’s about the universal quest for liberation.

The Passover Seder is traditionally a joyful celebration, filled with song and shared with family and friends and even strangers, because everyone can identify with its message. But last year and this year, in the wake of Israel’s assault on Palestinian life and culture with the unlimited support of the United States, the joy of the Seder has turned to ashes in the mouth.

An ancient Jewish legend recounts that when the Israelites had passed safely through the sea, which then drowned the pursuing Egyptians, the angels broke out singing God’s praises. God silenced them: “The work of my hands (the Egyptians) is drowning in the sea, and you dare to sing praises before me?!” How can we sing at the Seder when we know that 1,200 Israelis and 46,000 Palestinians have been killed in this bloody war?

Yes, we were slaves, but no, we are not yet free. None of us is free until all of us are free. Israeli liberation is inextricably bound up with Palestinian liberation.

And so, I propose four questions for our day — questions to help us find our way through this wilderness of misinformation, disinformation, indifference, and willful blindness:

1. How long will the U.S. government continue to fund the Israeli war machine with billions of dollars a year while millions of Americans are homeless, or unable to afford medical care, or unable to feed their kids?

2. Given the strictly enforced ethnic separation in all aspects of life between Israel proper and the Palestinian territories under its control, and given the fact that Israeli military rule governs the lives of more than 3 million West Bank Palestinians who are not citizens of Israel and have no vote about what happens to them, when will apologists for Israel recognize apartheid for what it is and end the charade of calling Israel a democracy?

3. How many more U.S. universities — supposedly bastions and guardians of free speech and inquiry — will surrender to the false charge of antisemitism by an authoritarian government bent on punishing them for not punishing their students, many Jewish, who participated in free speech through demonstrations intended to protect ordinary Palestinians from the horrors of war?

4. How many more Palestinians in Gaza and the West Bank must die before more Americans are willing to open their eyes and minds and hearts to the reality of ethnic cleansing and genocide, in which we are all complicit?

Dov Taylor is rabbi at Chavurat Ki-tov in Woodstock, and rabbi emeritus of Makom Solel Lakeside in Highland Park, Illinois.