Observing Passover

Rabbi Barry H. Block

          Once upon a time, rabbis gave sermons twice a year, one of them being Shabbat HaGadol, which literally means, “the great Sabbath,” the Shabbat immediately preceding the beginning of Passover, when rabbis would hold forth on Passover observance.  The goal was to assure that members of the community would properly dispose of their chametz, all leavened foods, and refrain from eating anything prohibited during the festival.

          I give sermons every week, but if I gave a traditional Shabbat HaGadol sermon, I could remind folks of the basic prohibitions of the holiday:  Throughout the seven days of Passover—eight days, for Conservative and Orthodox Jews outside Israel—we are to refrain from chametz, which is any of five grains – wheat, barley, oats, spelt, and rye – mixed with water and permitted to rise.  The easiest way to observe the commandment is to avoid those five grains, except in products specifically marked, “kosher for Passover.”

          Centuries ago, rabbis in Europe also prohibited an additional category of foods called kitniyot.  Those rabbis were observing a time-honored tradition of “building a fence around the Torah.”  They believed that if people ate foods that seemed to be like chametz, such as corn and rice, they might be tempted to eat the fundamentally forbidden foods as well.  Sephardic rabbis, including the most Orthodox among them today, never prohibited these foods among the Jews of Spain, North Africa, and the Middle East. Here in Arkansas, some Jews do and others do not observe prohibitions against eating kitniot.  

          Our prophets of old preached against ritual observances that were not matched by ethical behavior.  Similarly, as we remove the leavened foods from our homes and from our diets during Passover, we are enjoined to concentrate on the reason for observing that commandment.  If we cut out bread, baked goods and pasta, but live do so without intention, then the mitzvah is meaningless, and we have violated Passover.

          At the Seder, we retell the story of the Exodus, and we recall the reason that we abstain from leavened foods throughout the festival.  We learn that matzah represents the poor bread, which our ancestors were forced to eat as slaves in Egypt.  When we refrain from eating leaven, we identify with all of the world’s poor, from the people who struggle on the streets of Little Rock to the children who starve to death on the other side of the globe.

          We also know that matzah is the bread of freedom.  When our ancestors were released from bondage, they rightly feared that Pharaoh might send his armies after them.  Rushed, they didn’t make time for their bread to rise.  One last time, they would have to eat poor bread, but this time in celebration.  As we eat the matzah, we are commanded, each of us, to see ourselves as though we, personally, had been freed from bondage.

          We violate Passover, then, if we fail to observe the mitzvot, telling the story at the Seder and refraining from chametz for seven days, which are intended to remind us of our slavery and of our freedom.   And just as surely, we violate Passover if we observe those mitzvot by rote, abstaining from leaven and going through the motions at the Seder table, without recalling our redemption.

          In Judaism, memory plays a critical function.  When we remember that we were slaves in Egypt, our purpose is not simply to call our collective history to mind.  Instead, our memory must be linked to purpose.  Torah proclaims: “Remember the stranger, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt.”  We violate Passover when we do not begin to bring freedom to those who are most in need of liberation today.

          Contemporary Jews are heirs to a great tradition, not only in ancient and medieval times, but also in the last century. We are the spiritual descendants of rabbis and congregations before us who marched with Dr. King, who struggled for Soviet Jewry, and who responded promptly and proactively to the call for women’s equality.  Today’s needs are no less pressing.  We must take up the mantle that has been placed upon us.

          “Remember the stranger:” The Arkansas General Assembly is currently debating Hate Crimes Legislation, which would enhance sentences for criminals whose crime is committed due to the victim’s race, religion, ethnicity, color, ancestry, national origin, sexual orientation, sex, gender identity, disability, or prior/current service in the United States Armed Forces. We violate Passover if we do not recall hatred directed against Jews and assure that Arkansas joins the 47 other states and the federal government which have laws protecting those who are victims of hate crimes.

          “Remember the stranger:”  Hunger continues to plague our planet.  Billions around the globe suffer from food insecurity, not knowing whether or when they will find their next meal; and millions die of hunger and malnutrition every year.  When we say the blessing after the meal at our Seder, we will praise God “who nourishes all.”  Yes, God has provided sufficient food for everyone on this planet.  We, though, have failed to be God’s partners, by assuring that food is distributed fairly, so that everyone on Earth has enough to eat.  American food aid programs are designed to benefit American farmers and shipping companies, rather than the world’s poor.  Here at home, in the wealthiest nation on the planet, members of Congress emphasize waste and fraud, which constitute less than one per cent of federal nutritional assistance, instead of assuring that every American has enough to eat.  We violate Passover if we eat our fill without struggling to assure that everyone has enough to eat.

          Yes, Jews violate Passover if we avoid the Seder, if we do not thank God for our freedom, and if we fail to refrain from eating chametz. On Passover, and throughout the year, though, our ritual observances only serve their intended purpose if they inspire ethical action. This Passover, let our celebration and our abstinence lead us to seek freedom, for our people and for all the world.

Rabbi Barry H. Block serves Congregation B’nai Israel in Little Rock, Arkansas. He is the editor of The Mussar Torah Commentary, (CCAR Press, 2020), a Trustee of the Central Conference of American Rabbis, and the Rabbinic Dean of URJ Henry S. Jacobs Camp.