Unleavened Bread

Well, the minutes are counting down to Pesach and over here in Efrat everything is slowly shutting down--event the birds are settling down. Perhaps even more than Yom Kippur, Passover is THE celebration that virtually all self-identifying Jews make, in one form or the other. Good food, drama, four obligatory 3.5 oz glasses of wine, lots of stories, and the entire family gathered together under one roof--what's not to like (don't start)?

The drama of the Passover story is already being discussed with its obvious political overtones to current events. There are several wonderful examples of this modernized narrative on the net, well within the traditional boundaries of the day, or evening, so I won't belabor the obvious. I am concerned, however, that with all of the political applications, especially directed at Barak, something fundamental about the meaning of Passover is neglected.

The Passover is more than the party, the celebration, and reading from a small book. Passover is a process; a time for learning and a time for preparation. It is a time of renewal to "Hear, O Israel, The LORD is God; the LORD is One."

It starts thirty days before the festival with a fevered pace, mostly centered on the changing of dishes, something that looks like spring cleaning, and lots of activity on the subject of leavening, or Chametz. While most people start this cleaning process after Purim, many, like our family wait until the week before the deadline.

The dietary restriction on eating leavened products extends beyond “bread” per se, and attaches to the active ingredient, the leavening agent referred to as Chametz. Often defined as a souring or fermenting ingredient in food, Chametz is permitted throughout the year in everything. From noon on the day before Passover begins, continuing for the next seven days, Chametz becomes forbidden.

Moreover, the prohibition of Chametz is not just with respect to food items but with anything with which Chametz has come in contact. Pots, pans, utensils, shelves, storage bins, computer keyboards, clothing, and any location where family members are likely to take food made with leavening requires thorough cleaning.

From a spiritual perspective, this period of time before the Holy Festival of Passover, a time of preparation, is itself sacred . Holy times demand some sort of spiritual separation from everyday work and play. To demarcate the approach of sacred space and time, it is necessary to prepare our households as well as our selves.

Perhaps this is the reason that Chametz is invested with so much meaning and interpretation. More than simply a thing, Chametz is a process. At the surface level, Chametz is the process of fermentation when moisture comes in contact with grain and grain products. It is a souring agent that has many wonderful properties: one causes bread to rise and another improves the flavor of that combination of flour, water, oil, and salt.

Yet, Chametz is also associated with craving and excess. During sacred time and space, the goal is to pull back from personal desires and drives and focus on the spiritual side of existence. While fermentation creates wine, too much produces vinegar—in Hebrew, the lengthening of the vowel “a” transforms Chametz to Chometz—vinegar.

My wife’s view is that adding Chametz to bread causes it to swell symbolic of pride, an ingredient in daily life that a little goes a long way. In small doses, pride manifests as self esteem; too much pride becomes arrogance—a souring agent in any social setting. During Passover, however, through eating the Bread of Affliction, we learn from the poor, who are without pride, in order to acquire a taste for humility.

Underlying all of the explanations for the Passover process there remains one central question: Why do we celebrate the Passover? Rabbi Yeshayahu Horowitz, the author of the book The Two Tablets of the Covenant, my mother's illustrious ancestor, directs our attention to Exodus 34: 17-18.

You shall make for yourself no molten gods. The Feast of Unleavened Bread shall you keep. Seven days you shall eat unleavened bread, as I commanded you, in the time of the month Aviv; for in the month Aviv you came out from Egypt.

That pretty much covers it. Keep the Feast of Unleavened bread for seven days in the spring to remember the Exodus because I, God, told you to do so. Clear? But, why is the prohibition of molten idols included with the observance of Passover? What is the association between idol worship and Chametz?


At the core of Jewish life is the centrality of God. It is the first of the Ten Sayings.

I am the Lord your God, who have brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of servitude. You shall have no other gods before me. [Exodus 20: 2-3]

Anything that stands between God and each of us represents a barrier to our relationship with God. The very act of creating or molding things, actions, ideas, even our emotions into focal points that absorb our attention away from the Divine Presence is idol worship pure and simple. Among the reasons for the Exodus was, and still remains, our separation from idols and false gods.

When the quest for the material things in life, such as position, tenure, or fame, absorbs us so completely that we no longer see our way to God’s gift of life, then we have created an idol as vile as the Golden Calf. It is that taste, not of the forbidden, but of excess, that is the message of this season. Just as we can make things holy, like Shabbat, we make things horrific. The choice is ours. Turn away or return to God’s way. How do we do this? Well, we can start by casting out Chametz and watching with what we seek to fill our mouths.