As we sit down to the Passover Seder, one of the most fitting symbols for the challenging time and place in which we find ourselves will be the Yachatz, when we split the matzah into two pieces.
This ancient practice derives from a concept whereby the poor, whom we are encouraged to welcome into our homes on this night even more than other nights, would break their bread into pieces and set some aside with the recognition that they didn’t know where the next meal might be coming from.
Over the past several months, that practice took on a tragic reality. In testimonies from the released hostages, they recalled how they would literally perform this practice, taking the meager rations handed to them by their captors and carefully dividing the pita, not knowing if anything would be given to them the next day. But the practice of breaking our matzah into two has an even deeper meaning.
This year, we approach the Seder with a sense of inner conflict. On one hand, we are happy, excited, and grateful for all the good that exists in our lives and our world. On a national level, we can rejoice in the fact that we live in an independent, modern Jewish state that has succeeded in so many ways.
But it would be entirely dismissive to ignore the fact that so many in our nation feel broken and in crisis.Many feel that we are looking at crises of leadership, in our judicial and political systems, alongside nearly daily scandals and tensions emanating from all types of national institutions, including the Shin Bet (Israel Security Agency), police, army, and others.
Faith and heartbreak
Alongside the social and political crises, we face the heartbreak of knowing that we will be sitting down to the Seder, yet again, while 59 hostages remain in captivity. The symbol of the broken matzah is therefore painfully relatable.
We should not – and must not – deny the good that exists in our lives. With God’s blessing, we can be thankful for our families, our friends, our land, our health – for the many very legitimate sources of joy for which we should not feel embarrassed or guilty to give gratitude.
We can also never forget – particularly in our moments of joy – the immense pain, loss, and fear that prevail in our society at this moment. The agony of the bereaved families, and the families of the hostages, must be at the forefront of our consciousness as we approach the Seder.
Yet, as we take that second half of the matzah used for the Afikoman, we should be encouraged by the fact that Jewish identity and tradition inspire us to recognize that alongside every crisis, every destruction, every war, pogrom, and exile, the concept of tikvah – hope for tomorrow – exists side by side.
Just as the broken piece of matzah stored for later was our way of preparing for tomorrow, we must always be thinking not only of today but also of the future. We must remember that our decisions in the here and now – how we speak, how we treat others, how we relate to our society – will impact our future and how our nation, our people, and our world will look in the years ahead.
This year, we return to the example set by our dear hostages, who stared the very worst of humanity in the face yet remained faithful and taught us the power of belief and holding on to hope in the darkest of places.
While we live in times where we cannot deny the pain and concern for what surrounds us, the broken matzah reminds us that in the face of these challenges, when we believe, when we rejoice in the good, a better tomorrow awaits us.
The writer, a rabbi, is chair of the Tzohar Rabbinical Organization and chief rabbi of Shoham.