Taking a Place at the Table : Passover: Enjoying their new freedom to practice their religion, Russian Jewish emigres learn the intricacies of the Seder.

During the 1970s and 1980s, U.S. Jews vigorously protested the Soviet Union’s restrictions on Jews who wished to leave that country, signing petitions, lobbying Congress and picketing appearances by the Bolshoi Ballet.

At Passover Seders, or ritual meals, “we raised a fourth matzo, the matzo of freedom, in honor of our Soviet sisters and brothers who were forbidden to celebrate the holiday,” recalls Jane Ulman, a member of Temple Beth Hillel here.

Now, the Russians have come here to join in those Passover meals that begin tonight in many Jewish homes--but many of them must first be taught the Jewish rituals that politics prevented them from learning.

Since the collapse of the Soviet state, tens of thousands of Russian Jewish emigres have settled in the Los Angeles area, and more are coming.

One of the region’s largest resettlement and acculturation programs for the new immigrants is operated by Temple Beth Hillel, the largest Reform synagogue in the San Fernando Valley.

“We protested and screamed that they should be free, and the final act of protest is to fulfill our obligation by helping them get settled with jobs and meet their human, and specifically Jewish, needs,” said Rabbi James Lee Kaufman, senior rabbi at the 1,100-family synagogue.

Kaufman, a guitar slung from his shoulders, and Ulman recently led about 100 Russian-speaking Jews through a “practice Seder”--some emigres exposed to the steps and symbols of the ritual meal for the first time.

The eight-day Passover holiday, which commemorates the biblical story of the Jewish flight from bondage in Egypt, led by Moses, is usually observed in homes but also at synagogues and Jewish community centers. The Seder’s matzo, or flat, unleavened bread, recalls that the exodus from Egypt was so hurried that it precluded waiting for the bread to rise.

Kaufman said the Russian-speaking Jewish immigrant population, estimated by the Jewish Federation Council of Greater Los Angeles to range between 40,000 and 60,000, is distinctive for its interest in learning how to be religiously Jewish in addition to coping with new circumstances.

“This group is going to produce a terrific generation of religious Jews,” the rabbi said.

“We have 80 to 100 families who are loosely associated with us,” Kaufman said. “In our day school, 5% to 10% are Russian Jews.”

In a number of cases, the grandparents in an emigre family can recall taking part in Passover meals when they were young, but the opportunities for younger Jews were rare in the Soviet Union.

Thirteen-year-old Irina Vodonos, who arrived with her father in October, said she took part in two Seders in an Orthodox Jewish school in Moscow. “But we didn’t have Seders at home,” she said. “It was hard to do in Moscow. We couldn’t get matzo for many years.”

Her father, Yakov, has yet to find a job here, she said. But when he does, her mother, a sister and her grandparents will join them.

Helen and Vladimir Greengauz, who emigrated from Lithuania about three years ago, said they came to Los Angeles to find a better future for their children.

“Once Lithuania received its independence from the Soviet Union, the country didn’t want anyone who was different, especially Jews,” Helen Greengauz said.

Acting as interpreter during the recent practice Seder at Temple Beth Hillel was Igor Kutsenko, 23, who emigrated from Ukraine with his family in May, 1993. Kutsenko, who uses a wheelchair because of cerebral palsy, is studying computer programs at Valley College and is fluent in English.

“My dream in Ukraine was to be an English teacher, but the government ignored disabled people,” Kutsenko said. His family left the country primarily to join an uncle who lives in Los Angeles, he said.

Kutsenko learned of Temple Beth Hillel when a local social worker referred him to the synagogue’s long-running program for Jews with disabilities. Then he met Jane Ulman, co-coordinator of the Russian emigre program with Jane Silverman.

“This was our first Seder except for my grandmother, who had recollections of them from her childhood,” Kutsenko said. “She was impressed.”

He enjoyed the humor injected into the synagogue’s holiday celebrations, not only at Hanukkah and Purim but also at Passover.

The rabbi started the practice Seder by noting that Purim is the only Jewish holiday in which someone might get drunk. But at Passover you get four cups of wine, each half-full, “to feel good” during the Seder, Kaufman said.

He then instructed the adult Russians to lift their wineglass in a Hebrew toast, “L’chaim!” (To life!).

Except for one phrase he learned in Russian and some songs in Hebrew, Kaufman stuck to English.

The rabbi detected, however, young Igor’s inserted remark that the drink was wine, not vodka, a Russian favorite.

“No editorializing,” the rabbi chided good-naturedly.

Kutsenko said fellow emigres feel it is important to keep Jewish traditions alive. “I think people would like to know as much about Judaism as they can,” he said. “It doesn’t matter whether the temple is traditional or Reform--the thing is that they are getting acquainted with Jewish culture.”