Today is the second day of Passover, and I'm writing this, so you know that I don't observe the second day with holiday rules. If you're already offended, you should probably stop reading now because it's only going to get worse. Of course, if you're the type to get offended you're not reading now, but you know what I mean.
Here are some thoughts on my personal Pesach observance. These are not meant to judge anyone else's. Everyone has to approach these dietary laws in his or her own way. And right there, that's a philosophy of halakhah. Some don't agree with it, and that's fine.
So, I don't eat bread on Pesach. This may seem like a tautology, but I think Pesach observance has gotten pretty far away from the basics on this score. I do, however, eat rice, corn, and soy on Pesach. I try not to eat too much of those things, but if I need a break, I grab some sushi. For those unfamiliar with the rules, this doesn't sound particularly problematic. However, for Ashkenazi Jews there is a long-standing set of Rabbinic dietary law that interdicts a whole group of non-bread items because in medieval Europe, it was easy for wheat to get mixed in with those items. This means that even as a Jew in contemporary America, I am not supposed to eat, say, a candy bar with soy lecithin or a Coke with corn syrup on Pesach. The seder I was at last night even had kosher l'pesach Lays' potato chips from Israel to make sure they weren't fried in forbidden oils. But I can eat simulated bread products if they're made from matzah meal. In fact, a whole industry has sprung up to make it seem as much like we're eating bread during these eight days as possible. For me, personally, this seems backward. It makes the experience of Pesach about depriving yourself of certain things, but not necessarily the things the holiday is supposed to be about. It also defines an attitude toward Jewish law that emphasizes fidelity to decisions made in the past without reference to the context of those decisions, as if their authority were the only thing that matters.
It is common in haggadot to see a phrase translated as "this is the bread of affliction." I happen to prefer that translation, but it's not literal. The literal translation is "this is the bread of poverty." Poverty, for the Rabbis, meant not having bread, since in the Rabbinic tradition bread is the foodstuff which defines a meal. If you are about to eat bread, you ritually wash your hands. After you have eaten bread, you say the birkat ha-mazon, the blessing after food. The idea that for a week you don't eat bread, because it must be for you as if you personally came out of the Egypt, is the central theological idea of Pesach. It's not deprivation for the sake of it, it's deprivation of a very specific thing for a very specific reason. That's why the other name for the holiday is the festival of unleavened bread.
Let me emphasize that I don't want to buck the halakhic tradition totally here. I can see that it's easy to take this point and extend it, and say 'well, none of this is the important stuff.' Reform Jews do that, and while I respect that point of view I don't share it. There are many Passover traditions I plan to keep in more detail in the future. I really wish that I lived in an area where I could get kitnyot (rice, etc) that's hekshered for Passover. Areas with a large concentration of Sephardi Jews like LA or New York make that possible. The Sephardim don't have the rule about auxiliary foods on Pesach because their historical circumstances were different. This, to me, is the essence of halakhah. Particular attention to observance in context. My observance is about being aware during these eight days of living life differently. It's not about starving myself or paying hundreds of dollars for special food, which separates us further from the idea of solidarity with the poor. In the film "When Do We Eat?" a comedy about a dysfunctional Jewish family in LA who gets together for a seder, the family patriarch says at one point "Judaism doesn't work for you. You work for it." It may seem odd to apply this to punctilious observance, to say that putting strictures in your own way is making Judaism subservient to you, but I believe that's what's happening. I'm not saying not eating kitnyot falls into this category, but stuff like not eating matzah ball soup because water 'leavens' matzah meal seems to. The need to feel righteous is taking precedent over fidelity to the law. In the halakhic tradition, there is no hard and fast division between what Christians might term 'letter' and 'spirit' of the law. They are inextricably intertwined.
To all of my twelve readers and beyond, I wish you a happy and kosher Pesach, whatever that may mean to you.
Recent Comments