A 200-year-old Passover lesson about positive thinking

Let us live lives that are defined not by adversity but by the richness and depth of our traditions.

On April 22, Jews around the world will gather for Passover Seders. These festive, ritual-rich meals celebrate the Jewish people’s freedom from slavery in Egypt some 3,300 years ago. One of the most recognizable practices of Passover is Matzah, the unleavened Passover bread. An iconic product enjoyed by Jews and non-Jews alike, it’s known in its simplest form as the flat cracker that decks out supermarket displays each spring season. It’s also the star ingredient in “matzah ball soup,” which is known as the Jewish penicillin that soothes our ills. You don’t have to be a Jew to either know what matzah is or to use it in your life.

In addition to Matzah’s iconic cultural status, it also contains a profound lesson about humility and how Jews today can respond to antisemitism. In Jewish tradition, matzah is referred to both as the “bread of affliction” and as the “bread of freedom.” Historically, the name “bread of affliction” arose from the fact that matzah was what Jews ate as slaves in Ancient Egypt for sustenance. It got the moniker “bread of freedom” because Matzah was also what the Jews carried with them to freedom after the Exodus.

Two hundred years before “positive thinking” became a buzzword, the founder of the Chabad-Lubavitch movement, Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi, taught that it is our perception toward the Matzah that changes the very nature of the substance. When we compare matzah to Chametz — a category of leavened foods that includes bread, cookies, cakes and other items — our minds turn it into “the bread of affliction.” Meaning that when we choose to focus on all that matzah lacks — a fluffy texture or a vibrant taste — then it represents affliction for us.

However, when we don’t compare it to other foods and choose to see that same Matzah for its own merits — namely its ability to sustain life even in the most dire of circumstances —it embodies freedom. This shift in perspective from what something is not, to what it is, liberates us and becomes “the bread of freedom.” This mindset shift is a powerful one which I refer to often when people in my community express concern over rising antisemitism and their Jewish identity.

For too long, the Jewish experience has been shaped chiefly by external factors such as historical oppression and the age-old blight of antisemitism. These forces are an undeniable aspect of what Jews feel, however they do not encompass the entirety of what it means to be Jewish. Judaism, like matzah, should not be defined solely by the negative.

This proactive approach is especially important in fostering a positive connection to Judaism for young people, who might not have been exposed to the joy and happiness at the core of what it means to be Jewish. In the Psalms it is written, “Serve G-d with joy, Come before Him with singing.” This attitude ensures that Jewish practice and identity are not reactionary but are rooted in a deep-seated celebration of who we are and our heritage.

At the Passover Seder, many choose to leave an empty place at the table for Elijah the Prophet. This tradition has been adapted for modern times to remember those who cannot join the Seder for one reason or another. Most notably, in the 1980s American Jews left empty chairs for the Soviet Jews behind the Iron curtain, and this year many are leaving an empty chair for the hostages in Hamas captivity.

This is a tradition that brings meaning to many people. However, the Rebbe, Rabbi Menachem M. Schneerson, of righteous memory, took this practice one step further. He implored those planning on leaving an empty seat in remembrance to instead fill this seat, inviting someone who otherwise wouldn’t participate in a Seder to join with you. This way, we can focus on using that chair to help bring joy and community to someone instead of the chair only being used to bring attention to plight and suffering.

This Passover, let us embrace the 200year-old Passover lesson about positive and proactive thinking. Just as our perception determines whether Matzah represents affliction or redemption, and a chair can be used to draw attention to joy and happiness or pain and suffering, we can bring this mindset into all areas of our lives and our Jewish practice. Let us choose the proactive, forethinking, and creative option in all areas of our lives.

If you know someone who doesn’t have somewhere to go for Passover, invite them to your Seder. If you don’t have somewhere to go, join Chabad of Fairfield’s communal seder on April 22, open to all Jews regardless of affiliation. We’re ready to share not only delicious food but the spirit of Jewish unity and freedom.

And most important of all, let us live lives that are defined not by adversity but by the richness and depth of our traditions. Let us choose to be proactive, not reactive, in our celebration of what it means to be Jewish today.