blogs/rabbi-huberman

The Chametz Of Our Souls 

It seems everywhere I look these days, as the clock ticks towards the beginning of Passover, I see furrowed brows and blurry eyes. So many elaborate Seders are being planned.

Who should we invite? What should we serve? Who should sit - or not - next to whom? 

And then there's the issue of cleaning.

Putting together a Seder is an enormous task, but it's easily rivaled by that of removing leaven from our homes. It's easy to think that cleaning is the most important part of this ancient festival.

But is this what God had in mind in commanding us to celebrate freedom during the week of Passover?

Well, yes and no.

Yes, our tradition reminds us to rid our homes of yeast, the substance which is added to dough to make it rise. But our tradition also reminds us that life consists of balance between the physical and the spiritual. 

So where is the spirituality in all of this?

Throughout the ages, our Sages have warned our people against getting trapped in the details of religious observance. 

OnYom Kippur, a reading from the Book of Isaiah is added to the heart of the service to remind us that while fasting and abstinence are important, these acts mean nothing unless we remember to feed the hungry, clothe the naked, and take in the homeless.

Is there another kind of chametz?

Rabbi Yehudah Prero once wrote that the yeast we should be more concerned about is the chametz which bloats our souls.

It is that yeast which promotes stubbornness. It is that yeast which promotes grudges.  It is that yeast which sacrificesshalom ba'it - peace in our homes - in favor of the need to win every argument.

"Chametz represents all of our character flaws such as haughtiness, jealousy, unbridled passion and lust," Rabbi Prero says.  

"Just as we need to remove every speck of chametz from our household, so too we need to remove every speck of spiritual chametz from our beings."

Indeed, Pesach aside from being a festival of rituals should also involve introspection.  And matzah should not just be eaten to recall the Jews' hasty exodus from Egypt, but also to remind us that from time to time it is essential that we turn inward and "flatten our souls."

The Passover Haggadah begins with an Aramaic reference to matzah.  We hold it up and declare, Ha Lachmah Anyah.  This is often translated as This is the bread of affliction.  

But the word Anyah is more closely tied to the word, Ani - meaning poor. More accurately, we are saying Here is the poor person's bread. 

This reminds us to incline ourselves towards those who are not yet free.

For each of us is only a few generations removed from prejudice, persecution and poverty. We are reminded that there are so many in this world whose souls are flat - who endure the daily anguish of slavery and poverty. 

According to the U.S. State Department, 600,000 to 800,000 people are trafficked across international borders every year, of which 80 per cent are female and half are children. Globally, the average cost of a slave is ninety dollars.

And there are new plagues, new forms of slavery: substance addiction, disorders, depression, anxiety. It is all around us.  

This is a time to take stock, and a time to open our hearts.

The Jewish people understand slavery; we have been there. So at various times of the year - such as Passover - we turn inwards as we ask ourselves, "How much spiritual yeast is in our bellies?"

As the Talmudic sage Rabbi Alexandri taught two thousand years ago, it is spiritual yeast within that prevents us from meeting our full potential. 

It is that yeast that forces confrontations when we could have conversations, learning new things, even changing our minds.

There is a simple story I like to tell at this time of the year which involves, of all things, hockey.  Before the New York Islanders moved to Brooklyn last year, I shared a season ticket at the Nassau Coliseum. 

I regularly wore my Islanders jersey to the games, but twice a year, when my beloved Montreal Canadiens came to town, I put on my rouge, bleu and blanc sweater, and cheered on the team of my youth.

One evening coming home from an Islanders/Canadiens game, I paused on Northern Boulevard to fill my tank, and the owner of the garage, working late, came out to gently challenge me.

"You know the New York Islanders were the best hockey team of all time," he boasted.

My Canadiens pride rose up. "No, no you're wrong," I smiled. "The Canadiens have won twenty four Stanley Cups.They are the greatest team of all time."

He grumbled and walked backed into the garage.

The next time I visited his service station, the owner came out again - chest puffed out -- reminding me that his team was the best. And I responded in kind.

This went on another three or four times, each time a little more heated until, at one point in the middle of the week of Passover,  I paused, flattened my soul, and said, "You know, you may be right."

The owner smiled, grunted, and stomped back into his shop.

Within that little incident, I learned during the heart ofPesach that there are so many things we hold on to which are ultimately not that important - which absorb so much time and energy.  Better sometimes to let go.

As we engage in preparations for Pesach, let us find room in our hearts to rid our souls of what which holds us back.

Who should we make amends with? What are we holding on to? Is there some perceived injustice we need to let go of?

And will we promote shalom ba'it: we can start by saying something like, "You know, you may be right."

Pesach reminds us to consider what is really important -- our friends, our family, our freedom -- as we reflect upon what enslaves us from within.

Therein lays the spiritual beauty of Passover.

So, as we approach the festival of Passover -- as we prepare to celebrate with family and friends -- we are reminded during those moments of physical preparation to reflect upon the spiritual as well.

What is it within which we need to flatten?  What are the pointless issues and obsessions which absorb so much of our life force?  

What chametz are we carrying within?

Shabbat Shalom, v'kol tuv (with all goodness).

Rabbi Irwin Huberman