Rabbi Tarlan Rabizadeh is vice president of Jewish Engagement at American Jewish University. (photo courtesy of Miller Ink)

On April 5, Jewish families across Los Angeles began their observance of Passover. Gathering at the seder table, grimacing at the taste of bitter herbs and breaking off pieces of matzo, Jews will recount their ancestors’ escape from slavery in Egypt.

Centuries later, it is a story that remains relevant for its lesson that asking questions can be a remedy to modern day cases of injustice and racism, Rabbi Tarlan Rabizadeh said.

“That’s the only way to educate yourself and the only way to not be ignorant,” said Rabizadeh, vice president of Jewish Engagement at American Jewish University. “How do you fight mental slavery? How do you ensure that the life you’re living right now is the life you’re meant to live unless you ask questions? And that’s what the whole Haggadah is,” Rabizadeh said, referring to the text that guides the Passover seder.

The seder is conducted in a purposefully strange order to prompt questions about why things are normally done a certain way, Rabizadeh said. The Ma Nisthana, a song sung by the youngest attendee at the table, translates to the “four questions,” and asks why Passover night is different from all others.

“I can already see … my great uncle and everybody fighting about what we’re supposed to be doing even though there’s a Haggadah,” Rabizadeh said.

Beverly Hills Temple of the Arts Rabbi David Baron said Passover remains relevant because it is a reminder of the preciousness of freedom.

“We live in an age where freedom of speech and freedom to practice our religion is threatened in different parts of the world and in our own country,” Baron said. “It’s important to reinforce the message of freedom in every generation.”

Rabizadeh will dig deeper into what Passover can teach about justice, racism and inclusion during an April 11 conversation at AJU with Rabbi Sandra Lawson, director of racial diversity, equity and inclusion at Reconstructing Judaism, the central organization of the Reconstructionist Jewish movement.

In particular, Rabizadeh is excited to ask why Lawson, a Black queer woman, chose to become a rabbi, and how that has influenced her approach to social justice.

Sometimes called the TikTok Rabbi, Lawson has gained acclaim for her embrace of social media and music, and is the founder of Kol Hapanim, an inclusive Jewish community rooted in tradition and embracing diversity.

“I want to ask her what she knows about women and gender in society, and how that’s played a role in [our] lives as female rabbis,” Rabizadeh added. “What is the fear that people have, when for thousands of years they haven’t given women power.”

Rabizadeh has urged students to question such conventions throughout her career. As director of student life at UCLA Hillel, she would facilitate conversations between Ashkenazi Jews (who are of European descent) and Mizrahi Jews (who are of Middle Eastern and North African descent), and was frequently surprised by how little the students knew of the other’s traditions.

As a Persian Jew pursuing an education in largely Ashkenazi institutions, she found that even many professors were unfamiliar with her customs and history, sometimes to the point of insult.

“One of the hardest questions was someone once asked me if we even cared about the Holocaust,” she said. “And I remember my great aunt, in her limited English saying, ‘that happened to our cousins.”

Rabizadeh doubts that Persian or Mizrahi Jews now studying at rabbinical schools face any less ignorance than she did. It is the responsibility of educators to train the next generations to approach their work in a holistic way that includes people of all backgrounds, she added.

“We have to infiltrate the curriculum,” Rabizadeh said.

Asking questions is a good place to start, she said.