Finding Hidden Meanings and Breadcrumbs before Passover
Cleaning.
That’s the first part of this holiday. The prep. Pesach cleaning.
I love to focus on the meaning and metaphor behind everything in Judaism, like how ridding our homes of chametz (leavened bread) is like ridding our souls of all kinds of schmutz (and I’ll get to that.) So it’s hard for me to get down to the physical world and accept that cleaning our homes and getting rid of every last bread crumb, yes, really is about doing a physical action.
And I am in the perfect situation for that. My two roommates have been enacting that with gusto! There could be breadcrumbs on people’s clothes and in their pockets, so one roommate cleaned the washing machine so thoroughly that she cleared out mould that was in the detergent-drawer-thingy. Now our clean clothes smell nicer. My other roommate cleaned the fridge with a toothbrush to the point that it sparkles. I volunteered to clean the bookshelves (of course.) Because some people eat while reading, or put a book in a backpack with food that spills and crumbs fall into it, so it’s a good idea to take each book off the shelf, wipe the front and back, and shake or fan the pages while holding it upside down. I also wiped the shelves. And between the couch cushions.
We have deep-cleaned every nook and cranny of this apartment to a level of clean that it probably hasn’t seen since it was built. I’ve been living here since November, and for the previous few years it has seen a rotation of women come and go, and I doubt anybody invested enough energy to care about its cleanliness to the extent that we are for this Passover. It’s really exciting — the air is cleaner with less mould and dust, we’re all prouder to live here, and every item is accounted for.
Like I said, I enjoy these big-picture gains so much more than the nitty-gritty details. The high-energy cleaning sessions with all three of us beats the solo activity of me going through my food shelves. And I almost skipped doing that, thinking I wouldn’t actually find any chametz, until I finally did it just now — right before the ritual search for chametz, called Bedikat Chametz, which is part of the Passover holiday. Imagine my surprise when under my bottom drawer in the cupboard, I found not one but two chocolate-covered pretzels. There is no way of knowing how long those have been there, or how long they would have stayed there, if not for this holiday rite. It would have been perfect for that ritual moment — after sunset, with a candle for light and a feather and spoon to gather up crumbs, when we go around room to room, corner to corner, finding chametz. This, too, is often seen as a formality, and some people “hide” little bread crumbs so that something can be found. But here, I actually found chametz!
I can’t tell you how much I love that this is a literal thing that all Jews must do. Now it feels like every home in Israel is cleaner!
I also love the idea of touching every object you own, once a year. This time last year I was doing that process in a big way. I went through every item in my Guelph home, and gave away almost everything. Then, at my parents’ house, I went through the boxes I had stored in their basement, some for ten years without ever looking at it, and did the same thing. Taking inventory is great for a number of reasons. You might find that thing you’ve been wanting, and now you don’t have to buy a new one. You might find that thing you forgot you owned, and now you can use it. You might find something that would be a perfect gift for your friend whose birthday is coming up or who is hosting you for a meal.
On the other hand, you might find something that you don’t like or need, but haven’t bothered to get rid of. If every year you had to touch, dust, and rearrange every object you own, you might start asking yourself whether it’s worth keeping it “just in case.” You might end up with a lot fewer items that are collecting dust and possibly mould and taking up space in your life, space that can be filled with something you love, or space that can give you more breathing room in your home.
Passover cleaning is not meant to be “spring cleaning,” but it does have a lot of benefits.
Not to mention, you might find food crumbs in random places.
Some people find it overwhelming. They spend months in this process, and clean every floor tile with a toothbrush. It gets to the point that they can’t even enjoy Passover once it comes. You mention the holiday coming up, and they say, “Oh, no! I have to clean again!” Some people like to cover everything in tin foil — stovetops, counters, tables, etc. It’s supposed to feel like you’re leaving Egypt, but instead it feels like you’re living in a spaceship. And some bypass this process altogether and just go to a hotel for the week, ritually selling their home to a non-Jew.
I will advocate for the middle way. In my opinion, the prep shouldn’t be longer than three weeks. Give Purim its own excitement. And a week after recovering from Purim, that’s when you can start thinking about Pesach.
And now, here comes the metaphor…
Two nights ago I went to a learning session at Pardes. Rute Yair-Nussbaum brought down some amazing teachings from Ishbitz Chassidut. Chametz, which in the literal world means leavened bread, is forbidden to us during the seven days (8 outside of Israel) of the holiday of Pesach. But from a certain mystical level, chametz represents whatever gets in the way of reaching one’s potential.
She defined freedom from slavery as living from a sense of intuition and authenticity. Mitzrayim, the Hebrew word for Egypt, means a narrow-place. From this perspective, it represents the throat, and being constrained in speech. The voice needs to come out. Freedom from that narrow-place is self-awareness, expression, and integration. Even if one is not literally in slavery, one can still be a slave if they are not free to express their true self.
So what is the ritual of Bedikat Chametz about? It’s the deep search for whatever is keeping us stuck, blocking our way from living a free life.
I am looking forward to having a ritual with a friend after sending out this newsletter, where we look for chametz (I may have to bring some and hide them) and have a conversation about: what is keeping you stuck, holding you back?
Tomorrow morning, the next Pesach ritual is to burn the chametz. Perhaps we will throw in slips of paper, too.
So what is your chametz? What are you going to burn this year?