The teachings of Rabbi Yoshiyahu Pinto are widely recognized across the Jewish world. Blending Chassidic thought with practical life guidance, his lectures often explore profound spiritual insights that resonate with daily life. This week, in preparation for Passover, Rabbi Pinto offered a deeper perspective on one of the central elements of the Seder night — the breaking of the middle matzah.
At the beginning of the Seder, we take three matzot. One is broken in half, with a portion reserved as the afikoman, while the remaining two are kept whole. This practice invites an important question: why break the middle matzah? Why not leave all three matzot whole, or alternatively, use an entire matzah for the afikoman?
Rabbi Pinto explains that this act reflects a fundamental concept in Jewish faith. Every person struggles with belief on three fronts — the past, the future, and the present. Regarding the past, most people ultimately come to terms with what was, often affirming that everything happened for the best and was divinely ordained. Concerning the future, people generally remain hopeful, offering prayers for goodness and positive outcomes. But the real challenge, Rabbi Pinto teaches, lies in the present. To maintain unwavering faith during current hardships and confusion is the hardest test. It is in the present that doubt and despair so often take root.
This, he suggests, is symbolized in the matzot: the top matzah represents the past and remains whole; the bottom, symbolizing the future, also remains whole; but the middle matzah — representing the present moment — is broken. The breaking of the middle matzah reflects the daily struggle to hold onto faith in real time, amid uncertainty and adversity.
Rabbi Pinto recalls a story about Rabbi Galanti, a revered scholar who lived during a severe drought in Jerusalem. When a hostile governor threatened to expel all the Jews unless rain fell, Rabbi Galanti declared a public fast and called upon the community to pray at the grave of Shimon HaTzaddik. Demonstrating complete confidence in Divine mercy, he instructed everyone to come dressed in winter coats, scarves, and boots — despite the sweltering heat of the day. As they approached the site, a policeman mocked them and even struck Rabbi Galanti, yet the rabbi remained undeterred. He began to pray, pledging not to leave until rain would fall. Moments later, the heavens opened, and rain poured down.
This, Rabbi Pinto emphasizes, is what true faith looks like. Faith is not saying “maybe it will be okay.” True faith is walking into a clear sky with an umbrella because you are sure the rain is coming. The present moment — the broken matzah — is where faith must be strongest.
Passover, he continues, is the festival of faith. As the verse says, “And they believed in the Lord and in Moses, His servant” (Exodus 14:31). The salvation of Egypt came only after the Israelites acted with simple, complete belief. They celebrated the Passover sacrifice while still enslaved, as if redemption had already occurred. It was that innocence and certainty that activated Divine salvation.
Faith, says Rabbi Pinto, must be unwavering even when met with opposition, hardship, or mockery. Just as the tallest waves in the ocean are created by winds blowing against the current, the strongest spiritual growth comes through resistance. When obstacles stand in the way of holiness and purity, they are often signs that one is on the right path.
The preparation for Passover is not only cleaning or ritual. It is also — perhaps primarily — a preparation of faith. Strengthening our belief in God in the face of uncertainty, holding firm in the present even when it’s difficult, is the true work of the season. And through that, we open the door to redemption — both personal and national.
This article was written in cooperation with Shuva Israel