It is cold out. I have always, will always, and continually dislike cold weather. My heart swelled with joy when I looked at the calendar and realized that it is time to start preparing for the holiday of Pesach. Technically, it was time to start preparing for Pesach a few weeks ago, when we started the cycle of four special Torah readings before the holiday. As usual, I am a little behind in my preparations for Pesach.
Pesach falls in the 15th day of the Hebrew month of Nissan, the biblical first month. We celebrate yetziat Mitzrayim (the exodus from Egypt) and the rituals that were observed, the eating of matzah, the beginning of spring, and the freedom of leaving slavery behind. All of these aspects of Pesach are important to finding meaning in our life for the observance of this holiday.
We eat matzah during the holiday of Pesach. We are obligated to eat matzah only on the first two days of the holiday, the rest of the time we only have to abstain from eating hametz. Hametz is a mixture of water and flour from the five species (wheat, barley, oats, spelt, rye) that is allowed to leaven (in the understanding of the Talmudic rabbis, a mixture that remains uncooked for 18 minutes). Before Pesach we clear our homes from all hametz. It is a physical cleansing designed to teach us how to let go, how to get rid of excesses, how to only bring what we need for the journey ahead. As we examine the past so we can experience the future, we sort out the experiences that we had during the past year.
We ask ourselves: to what am I a slave? What have I kept that still has me oppressed?
As Spring arrives, there is more light and more warmth, and the opportunity to plant new seeds in the ground.
We ask ourselves: Am I sowing the seeds of compassion, of understanding, of shared growth and security, and of love with all the inhabitants of this earth?
Finally, we dedicate ourselves fully to yetziat Mitzrayim, to leaving the things that oppressed us behind. The word in Hebrew for Egypt is Mitzrayim. In Hebrew, the name of the place means “the doubly narrow place” or the “the twice tight place.” (The ending ayim in Hebrew usually means something that is doubled). The word in Hebrew suggests that the oppression which the Israelites experienced in Egypt was doubled. Reading the text of the Exodus as described in the Hebrew Bible, I think that the oppression was both external and internal. Not only the Israelites felt that the Egyptians oppressed them with hard labor and unfair limitations, but also the Israelites on their own exacerbated the oppression by not believing that redemption was possible. Our journey leading to every Pesach is to leave the tight, narrow space of external and internal limitations so we can experience a good life. I understand a good life as one that is free of spiritual leavening, free of spiritual slavery, free of tight or narrow physical and mental spaces, a life full of light and joy. A life in which we actively work so that no one experiences that horrors of Mitzrayim.
This year we are emerging from a strict and narrow place, crippled by a virus that wreaked and is still wreaking havoc on our lives. Next week it will be the anniversary of the limitations and the beginning of the desolation created by COVID-19. Let us combine the freedom that comes from the physical cleansing of our homes with the rituals and the memories that kept us alive, experiencing freedom from the tight, narrow spaces that inhibited our expression of justice, of love, and of joy. It will still be a different Pesach, yet we now know that it can be one that heralds new possibilities. Let us fill our homes with the sweet smells of Pesach, and with the joyous sound of prayer, learning and song. May we all enjoy the gifts of our tradition on our journey towards joy this spring!