Will the real chametz please stand up?

Passover looms ever closer. I am fascinated by the fact that of all the Jewish holy days and holidays and hoops we jump through, Passover seems to be the one which is more observed than any other. Yes, more than Chanukah, which, here in the U.S., isn’t even observed the way it was meant to be. Yet, here in the U.S., more Jews will flock to the stores and buy their cellophane-wrapped boxes of matzah and bottles of cough-syrup-sweet Manischewitz wine than those who buy chanukiyah nerot, chanukah candles, in December.

The strangest part to all of this is that Passover requires a LOT of time, effort, and attention to the tiniest of details, and drastic changes in diet for a sustained 8 nights and days, and not for the easier or tastier, either. For 8 days, we eat nothing with leavening, nothing which smacks of this chametz. Instead, we eat the “bread of affliction,” which in our contemporary times has been reduced to a thin, cracker-like board, the flour and water mixed together and completely baked within 18 minutes from start to finish, and packaged in boxes wrapped in cellophane and shipped across the country.

For 8 nights and days, no bread for us. No sandwiches for lunch, no breaded chicken nuggets, no pizza, no bread crumb topping on the forbidden pasta of mac and cheese, no pasta at all! Not even spaghetti. No cookies or pies or cakes, unless made without flour of any kind. Forget your morning bowl of Wheaties! And for German-origin Jews, even Cheerios and oatmeal are forbidden! For 8 nights and days, anything with wheat or other grains as an ingredient is forbidden, other than kosher for Passover matzah.

Go ahead. Make a list of things you eat on a daily basis and consider how many of them have some form of wheat or flour or grains of any kind in them. . .  I’ll wait.

Have your list? Okay, now, for 8 nights and days, you can’t eat any of those things which contain one tiny speck of flour or wheat or other grains.

Chametz literally refers to wheat, barley, oats, spelt, or rye that has become moist and allowed to remain moist for a short period of time (as short as 18 minutes) before being cooked so that it begins the leavening process. (Cooking stops the process.) Many confuse chametz with the yeast in bread, and while yeast is certainly chametz, chametz is also what happens when wheat, barley, rye, oats, or spelt––or their flours––come into contact with water, and 18 minutes later, a natural fermentation process has already begun. Even the tiniest speck of chametz makes a food forbidden to eat during Passover.

To further complicate things, Jews of German origin tightened the reins further to ensure they weren’t eating anything forbidden, so the German-origin rabbis also put the kabash (Hebrew word meaning to subdue or forcefully keep under) on anything that can be ground into a flour, like rice and beans, only because bread made from rice flour or bean flour has the appearance of regular bread, and we might get confused! Starchy veggies and grains that aren’t the five listed above, like rice and beans and corn, are called kitniyot. (Jews that are not of German origin freely eat kitniyot throughout Passover.) Flours, wheat, grains of every kind, becomes chametz when exposed to moisture after 18 minutes, the Rabbis ruled.

For 8 nights and days, Jews neither eat, nor have in their possession, any form of chametz whatsoever. Meticulously cleaning our homes even into the smallest nooks and crannies, with some who even cover their counter tops with aluminum foil for the entire time of Passover...  There is even a night before Passover ritual of going through the house once again searching using a candle and a feather for sweeping up the tiniest bits of dust, so that there is absolutely NO chametz in the house anywhere.

Why such a big deal over chametz, and what is the real teaching we can glean from all this fuss? The Exodus story tells us that the Hebrews were to be ready to leave everything and escape into freedom at any moment. No-one knew when Pharaoh would finally say, “Yeah, leave. Enough of these plagues! Get out of here already!”

In ancient times in Egypt, they didn’t go to the store and buy a package of bread for their sandwiches. They ground the wheat into flour, and when it was time to make bread, they mixed the four and water together and then let it sit in a warm corner for a bit. The natural fermentation process kicked in, and voila’, when baked, the bread would rise and little pockets of air would infuse throughout the bread. It was light and airy rather then dense and hard as a rock.

But when the Hebrews were on standby for a quick escape, they did not have the luxury of this rise time for their bread. Instead, they took a little flour and added a little water, and immediately patted it out into a flat bread, threw it onto a hot, flat rock to cook quickly, and had a form of bread that we today know as a tortilla, naan, flatbread, pita, even fresh pasta is made in a similar manner. THIS was the “bread of affliction.” It was not what we find in the cellophane-wrapped boxes on the grocery shelves!

We’ll talk about that more in another blog… today I’d like to explain this thing about chametz . . .

Over the millennia, rabbis sought, of course, to bring a spiritual metaphor to this issue of Passover and chametz. And so the chametz came to symbolize the ego which puffs up with pride, vanity, arrogance, and self-centeredness–– that part of ourselves which likes to run the show. So during the time when we avoid eating actual chametz, we are also called to take a deeper look at the spiritual chametz in our lives. It is yet another opportunity to become better persons.

Every holy day we have is about this internal spiritual growth part, really, even though a significant fuss is made over the external parts. For Christians, you might think about the true meaning of Lent. Is it about giving up candy, or is it supposed to speak on a deeper spiritual level? Every Jewish holy day, at its core, is about this deeper level (although honestly, some never get past the surface level).

So, what is the real chametz we should be rooting out as we prepare for Passover? It is this thing we call selfishness. It is closing ourselves off from reaching out and giving of ourselves to others. It is being so involved with our own lives that we don’t open our hearts to others. It’s hanging on to our narrow perspective without taking a moment to think about how situations might be experienced differently by someone unlike us. It’s refusing to look at where we are selfish and self-absorbed. THESE are the real chametz we are to search out of the nooks and crannies of our souls, with candle and feather, sweeping up the dusty bits that have fallen through the hard cracks in the ground of our hearts.

The entire story of Passover has this as a major theme. Pharaoh is described as being hard-hearted. He comes close to changing his mind several times, but continues to hold onto his tight grip of control. When he finally does give in, we find that after he has said yes, he changes his mind and commands his army to pursue the Hebrews, to bring them back again into slavery.

If you’ve ever tried to break a really bad, long-term, entrenched habit, say, smoking or eating sugar, you understand this. We say no 999 times, and give in to the habit the one thousandth time. Or we try and be less angry, and yet, before we even realize it, something has again flipped that switch and our anger flares when we really didn't want to be angry, and it seems that nothing has changed. Like Pharaoh, we, too, are hard-hearted (and hard-headed).

Change does not come easy. Sometimes, we have to stop and ask ourselves if we really want to change, or do we just think the idea of it is nice but we can’t really give up whatever it is.

Passover is the time to think about what one change in myself do I really want to happen this year? What one bad habit do I want to shift? What one small thing would I like to be a bit better at, or perhaps become a bit more generous or kind?

THIS is the real chametz that we are asked to search out and rid ourselves of for Passover. Does it matter if we eat sandwiches during Passover, or is the deeper spiritual lesson about not gossiping about others? Not passing along negative things we say about other people? Finding one small thing to improve upon?

One other note about this job of searching out the chametz in our souls . . . we prepare ourselves for the change. We do everything in our power to make this change happen. And we are ready for it. If we decide to give up sugar, for example, we rid it from our pantries and refrigerators and freezers. We make it hard to mindlessly eat. We prepare for the change we want to make. Preparing for Passover is about preparing for that change.

The Hebrews were packed and ready to flee at a moment’s notice. They didn’t let their bread rise; they ate flat bread so they would be ready for freedom when the opportunity came. They were entirely ready for the change that needed to happen, so that when the urges came back, those urges to return to the old life because it was easier, when Pharaoh pursued them, they kept moving forward anyway. They had the courage not to turn back to the old habits. They had prepared, and they had packed, and they were ready for freedom.

It takes a lot to be ready for change. It’s not just saying we want to change. It’s cleaning out the house of our soul, going through and looking at even the tiniest ways we do the very thing we say we want to change. It’s in our thoughts. Sometimes it’s an old loop replaying in our heads that we didn’t even realize we had until we stopped long enough to hear it.

Change does not come easy, but that doesn’t mean we’re off the hook. Sometimes, it means “acting as if” we had already made the change, and it is the act of “acting as if” which, over time, makes the change happen.

Looking again at our Passover story, we know that the Hebrews were packed and ready to flee. What might they have packed? What might they have left behind? What will you choose to take with you as essential for your Passover journey?

What delights me is that the Hebrew women, in their rushed packing, made sure they packed something very important. Pots, yes. Pans, yes. Clothes, yes. Food, yes. Mirrors, yes. Tambourines, yes. Wait, what? Tambourines? Why, when they needed to pack light, would they say yes to tambourines?

Because our journey to freedom must also be a journey that can embrace joy and singing and dancing. We are about to become free, and that is reason enough to sing and dance! If our journey is only about the drudgery, only about how hard it is to change, and we forget to sing and dance along the way, we will never make it across the sea.

Packing the tambourines was also an act of faith. The women believed they would taste freedom! They believed it so strongly that they knew they would need their tambourines to rejoice on the shores of freedom! So when we look at change, we need to hold onto the belief that as hard as it is, we can be free at last of those things which hold us back. And we pack our tambourines as a choice to believe that it will happen.

Many of you know that I have been involved with a local TOPS (Taking Off Pounds Sensibly) chapter for a few years. I love those ladies so much! And miss them dearly when I can’t be there. I’ve had success, and then not so much, but one thing I love with our chapter, besides the wonderful people, is that we begin each meeting with a song. It’s a bit like this story of Exodus. Losing weight is not an easy journey at all, so we take the time to sing before getting down to the nuts and bolts of our roll call. We sing to remind ourselves that we are again together, and that is enough reason to sing. On our TOPS journey, we pack our tambourines!

So, as we prepare for Passover, which chametz will you search for? The crumbs in the corner of your pantry, or the dusty bits on your heart? When you prepare yourself for freedom and pack for your journey, will you focus so much on how hard it is that you forget to take a tambourine? Will you believe that change is possible, or will this be yet one more failure notch on your belt?

Help me change, G!d.
Do not listen to my resistance,
Help me change.
Help me do whatever it takes.

I am packed, and ready for freedom.
Help me change the old tapes playing in my head
that tell me I can’t.
Let’s replace that tape,
so I can journey into the land of promise,
into freedom.

Help me replace my doubts
with affirmations.
Help me to keep moving forward.
Help me act as if this change has already been made.

Help me change, G!d.
I believe so strongly
that together, we can do this.
I have packed my tambourine
and I am ready to dance
when my feet touch the other side.

Help me change, G!d.
Do not listen to my resistance,
Help me change.
Help me do whatever it takes.


May you find meaning in preparing for freedom like we find in the Passover story, even if it is not “your” holiday to celebrate. May this week be a holy week of preparing for all of us! Amein!