A Spring Revival in a Divided World

A Passover Reflection From Our Founding Partner, Daniel Lubetzky

Every year for Passover, we fill four cups to signal God’s redemption of the Jewish people from slavery in Egypt. We also fill a fifth cup, leave that seat unfilled, and open the door for the prophet Elijah. It represents the redemption that is still to come for all of humanity, where peace and justice prevail across the world.

What I love most about this story is how it originated. There was a debate between the rabbis on whether it should be four cups or five cups. In the end, they chose to honor both perspectives. It’s a reminder of the importance of healthy hearty debate. The whole concept of Elijah and the fifth cup reflects the idea that the best ideas come from a marketplace of ideas, where we can all speak up and have a voice.

In recent years, there has been so much strain on our ability to listen to each other, learn from each other, and be open to the possibility that we might be wrong.

My hope is that each of us leaves that seat open for other perspectives.

An Easter Message of Hope From Our CEO, Stacy Blakeley

What strikes me about Daniel’s Passover reflection and my family’s celebration of Easter is this: despite centuries of war, suffering, and evil, these stories of hope are still being told. Easter is the crux of the Christian faith – where faith and suffering collide. 

The death and resurrection of Christ is a story of waiting – as theologians call it “already and not yet.” Christ has risen, sin and death are defeated, but the full reality of that victory hasn’t yet arrived. The Saturday between Good Friday and Easter serves as a powerful reminder that even in the midst of suffering, the silence of God doesn’t equal the absence of God. 

Like the fifth cup, we are called to have faith – to leave the seat open – even when it seems futile. The shared message is one of defiant hope. So how can all of humanity cling to that hope – even now? We renew our commitment to community and to what binds us together, rather than what divides us. We choose hope, which, like joy, is a discipline. We must be clear-eyed, knowing that darkness is real, but it does not have the final word. 

This is my first Easter since I began my journey with Builders. Several of my friends and former colleagues have expressed cynicism about our mission. Can we really defeat division and redeem America’s promise? “Aren’t you being naive?” they ask. To which I reply, “Someone must do this work, and it might as well be us.” Builders have faith and are steadfast in our pursuit of renewal. 

We have hope and set the table anyway. 

Sunday is coming.