The matzah serves as a unique symbol in the Passover seder. At first, we are introduced to it as the “bread of affliction.” It is a symbol of our dreaded years as slaves in Egypt, of the hardship and poverty that plagued the Jews before G-d set plagues upon the Egyptians.

            But by the end of the seder, the matzah becomes the bread of our freedom. It is that makeshift, unleavened cracker thrown together as we rushed out of bondage and towards liberation.

            This is obviously no mistake. Judaism is a religion built on meticulous intentionality and the matzah is no exception. The Rambam even says if one is “in delirium,” his consumption of matzah fails to fulfill the mitzvah.

            The matzah links us to our past; it reminds that though we are freed today, we can never forget our time in slavery. It is a call to use our current privilege to help the oppressed in modern world be set free from their Egypt.

            In Ha lahma Anya we call out: “All who are hungry, let them enter and eat. All who are in need let them come celebrate Pesach.”

            In some homes, Jewish people would actually open the door and invite those in need of food and shelter - or just a seder.

            In this sense matzah is the ultimate symbol of egalitarianism. For when time is layed out flat on the table of eternity, we are both the slaves and the wealthy, the suffering and the comfortable, the poor and the wealthy. This unified identity reminds us not to draw distinctions between ourselves and those who find themselves in less fortunate situations; we were once like them and they might one day be like us. The differences that exist today are just the vicissitudes of time.

            Chasidic thought also sees an ego-eliminating aspect to matzah: its simplicity. The bare-bones quality of matzah instills in us a humility and tells us that we are imperfect and must continue to improve ourselves.

            Breslov Chasidic thought goes in completely new directions in interpreting the dual symbolism of matzah. To them, the evolving meaning of matzah says less about reality than it does about our own minds. Rabbi Ozer Bergman writes that in Egypt, the Jews “thought that freedom was defined by having something good to eat.” But then G-d’s revelation freed them from such a materialistic conception. They cast off their mental slavery and saw that they were free - whether their bread leavened or not.

            The Breslov reading reimagines Egypt not simply as a country that enslaved our forefathers thousands of years ago, but as any force that limits our mind in the present, keeping us from happiness and embracing life.

            And so this crunchy, tasteless so-called “bread” is a reminder that we shape the world with our minds. We create meaning and dictate experience with how we choose to perceive things. Matzah can be a reminder of history or a call to action in the present. It can be the bread of affliction or the bread of freedom. And so too, life can be a never-ending tragedy, unfolding misery each day; or it can be pure joy and infinite love - if we discover the freedom resting within us.

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haggadah Section: Maggid - Beginning