Matzah To Elevate and Conquer Areas of Spiritual Weakness
זכרון יעקב | April 21, 2024
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Matzah To Elevate and Conquer Areas of Spiritual Weakness

זכרון יעקב | June 27, 2025

The Mishna (Pesachim 35a) enumerates the types of grains that can be used for making matzah to fulfill the mitzva of eating matzah on Pesach. The Gemara notes that the five grains listed in the Mishna are an exhaustive list, implying that—for example—rice or millet, which are not mentioned in the Mishna, cannot be used to make matzah. What is wrong with using rice or millet? The Gemara infers a connection between chometz and matzah from the pasuk “You shall not eat upon it chometz, seven days you shall eat upon it matzah, the bread of poverty...” (Devorim 16:3): That which can potentially become chometz(leavened) is the type of grain from which we can make matzah. Rice, millet, and other grains that are not listed in the Mishna can reach the state of sirachon (spoilage) but they cannot reach the state of chimutz (leavened).

This concept may seem counterintuitive. Since we are so particular about preventing matzah from becoming chometz, shouldn’t we go out of our way, when baking our matzah, to specifically use grains which do not leaven? Why do we put ourselves in a situation where, if the dough is not baked quickly enough, it will become chometz? With all the difficult stringencies that are involved in baking matzah, why didn’t the Torah sanction the use of a type of grain that will never become chometz? Why does the Torah insist that we use a type of grain which could become chometz, necessitating the baker to zealously guard that it does not so become?

The Tolner Rebbe from Yerushalayim gave several drashas when he was in Los Angeles for Parsha Bo several years ago. In one of his drashas, he commented that in this particular halacha lies a great practical lesson.

Chazal teach that chometz is symbolic of the Yetzer haRah (evil inclination). On the other hand, matzah is symbolic of the Yetzer haTov (good inclination).Chometz rises. It is puffy. It is blown up. This is symbolic of a person’s haughtiness and passions. Matzah, which is plain and is flat, does not rise or get blown up. It is not haughty. It represents modesty, humility and the ability to manage with the bare necessities of life. In other words, chometz and matzah are at the opposite ends of the spectrum. Chometz represents negative spiritual character traits, and matzah represents positive spiritual character traits.

The lesson, therefore, is that the Torah wants us to take that very thing that could potentially chometz and make it into matzah. Extending the analogy of the Yetzer haRah and Yetzer haTov, the Torah wants us to take that which is our Yetzer haRah (our problems, our temptations, and our foibles) and convert it to Yetzer haTov. This means that man’s spiritual mission is to try to work on those very personality traits and characteristics that in the past have proven to be his weak points. If a person is mute then he will not receive reward in the World to Come for not speaking lashon haRah (gossip, slander, etc.). That is not his problem. The reason that it is not his problem is because of an unfortunate physical disability. But nevertheless, he will not receive reward for that because there is no challenge.

Likewise, for example, if a person is unfortunately blind, he has no challenge of “shmiras aynayim” (guarding his eyes) from viewing inappropriate matters. That is not his challenge. The avodas ha’adam (man’s spiritual challenge) is to take those very things that are areas of spiritual weakness, where perhaps in the past he has fallen short of the Torah’s ideals, and to conquer them and elevate them. In fact, perhaps he will even be able to take that very thing and turn it into a dvar mitzvah.

Let the person channel his passions—which have perhaps led him astray in the past—in a positive direction. This is the symbolism of the chometz and the matzah. Don’t try making matzah out of something that cannot become chometz anyway. That is no great accomplishment! Take something that without careful watching and care can become chometz. That is the very item we turn into a “cheftza d’mitzvah” (an entity with which a positive command is fulfilled).

This halacha regarding the grains with which matzah may be baked is a metaphor for a person’s spiritual mission. We must seek out that which has been our Yetzer haRah and turn it into our Yetzer haTov.

We can perhaps relate this idea to a very peculiar Medrash (Yalkut 187) that we have mentioned in the past. A certain Tanna fasted 85 times because he did not understand a particular matter: Dogs are creatures which are called azei nefesh (brazen, insolent) in Yeshaya 56:11. And yet, in Perek Shira, in which each of the animals recites Shira (Song of Praise) to the Ribono shel Olam, the dogs are recorded as saying “Come let us bow down before Hashem our G-d.” This Tanna, Rav Yeshaya, the student of Rav Chanina ben Dosa, was very perturbed by this. How could it be that these dogs, which possess the attribute of insolence (azus), are the ones that recite the praise “Come let us bow down before Hashem our G-d?” Therefore, he fasted 85 times to beseech Divine Help in understanding this anomaly.

The Medrash relates that a malach (heavenly angel) came down and revealed “the secret” to him. At the time of Yetzias Mitzrayim (the Exodus), the pasuk says, “But against the Children of Israel a dog will not sharpen its tongue...” (Shemos 11:7). In the merit of this ‘action,’ the dogs merited to recite the pasuk attributed to them in Perek Shira.

The precise point of this Medrash is the idea mentioned above: Dogs are full of chutzpah by nature. It is a dog’s innate nature to bark, especially when it senses that something unusual is transpiring. For the dogs not to bark at such a time demonstrates a tremendous conquest over their normal inclinations. The Ribono shel Olam appreciates that. Thus, the Medrash’s point is the following: Despite the fact that dogs are azei nefesh, and in spite of the fact that they normally bark, they were greatly rewarded by virtue of the fact that they conquered this natural inclination and remained silent at the time of the Makas Bechoros (the Plague of the First Born). We learn from dogs to people: People too should strive for kvishas hayetzer (conquering their evil inclination) in service of Hashem.

The Mishna (Pesachim 35a) enumerates the types of grains that can be used for making matzah to fulfill the mitzva of eating matzah on Pesach. The Gemara notes that the five grains listed in the Mishna are an exhaustive list, implying that—for example—rice or millet, which are not mentioned in the Mishna, cannot be used to make matzah. What is wrong with using rice or millet? The Gemara infers a connection between chometz and matzah from the pasuk “You shall not eat upon it chometz, seven days you shall eat upon it matzah, the bread of poverty...” (Devorim 16:3): That which can potentially become chometz(leavened) is the type of grain from which we can make matzah. Rice, millet, and other grains that are not listed in the Mishna can reach the state of sirachon (spoilage) but they cannot reach the state of chimutz (leavened).

This concept may seem counterintuitive. Since we are so particular about preventing matzah from becoming chometz, shouldn’t we go out of our way, when baking our matzah, to specifically use grains which do not leaven? Why do we put ourselves in a situation where, if the dough is not baked quickly enough, it will become chometz? With all the difficult stringencies that are involved in baking matzah, why didn’t the Torah sanction the use of a type of grain that will never become chometz? Why does the Torah insist that we use a type of grain which could become chometz, necessitating the baker to zealously guard that it does not so become?

The Tolner Rebbe from Yerushalayim gave several drashas when he was in Los Angeles for Parsha Bo several years ago. In one of his drashas, he commented that in this particular halacha lies a great practical lesson.

Chazal teach that chometz is symbolic of the Yetzer haRah (evil inclination). On the other hand, matzah is symbolic of the Yetzer haTov (good inclination).Chometz rises. It is puffy. It is blown up. This is symbolic of a person’s haughtiness and passions. Matzah, which is plain and is flat, does not rise or get blown up. It is not haughty. It represents modesty, humility and the ability to manage with the bare necessities of life. In other words, chometz and matzah are at the opposite ends of the spectrum. Chometz represents negative spiritual character traits, and matzah represents positive spiritual character traits.

The lesson, therefore, is that the Torah wants us to take that very thing that could potentially chometz and make it into matzah. Extending the analogy of the Yetzer haRah and Yetzer haTov, the Torah wants us to take that which is our Yetzer haRah (our problems, our temptations, and our foibles) and convert it to Yetzer haTov. This means that man’s spiritual mission is to try to work on those very personality traits and characteristics that in the past have proven to be his weak points. If a person is mute then he will not receive reward in the World to Come for not speaking lashon haRah (gossip, slander, etc.). That is not his problem. The reason that it is not his problem is because of an unfortunate physical disability. But nevertheless, he will not receive reward for that because there is no challenge.

Likewise, for example, if a person is unfortunately blind, he has no challenge of “shmiras aynayim” (guarding his eyes) from viewing inappropriate matters. That is not his challenge. The avodas ha’adam (man’s spiritual challenge) is to take those very things that are areas of spiritual weakness, where perhaps in the past he has fallen short of the Torah’s ideals, and to conquer them and elevate them. In fact, perhaps he will even be able to take that very thing and turn it into a dvar mitzvah.

Let the person channel his passions—which have perhaps led him astray in the past—in a positive direction. This is the symbolism of the chometz and the matzah. Don’t try making matzah out of something that cannot become chometz anyway. That is no great accomplishment! Take something that without careful watching and care can become chometz. That is the very item we turn into a “cheftza d’mitzvah” (an entity with which a positive command is fulfilled).

This halacha regarding the grains with which matzah may be baked is a metaphor for a person’s spiritual mission. We must seek out that which has been our Yetzer haRah and turn it into our Yetzer haTov.

We can perhaps relate this idea to a very peculiar Medrash (Yalkut 187) that we have mentioned in the past. A certain Tanna fasted 85 times because he did not understand a particular matter: Dogs are creatures which are called azei nefesh (brazen, insolent) in Yeshaya 56:11. And yet, in Perek Shira, in which each of the animals recites Shira (Song of Praise) to the Ribono shel Olam, the dogs are recorded as saying “Come let us bow down before Hashem our G-d.” This Tanna, Rav Yeshaya, the student of Rav Chanina ben Dosa, was very perturbed by this. How could it be that these dogs, which possess the attribute of insolence (azus), are the ones that recite the praise “Come let us bow down before Hashem our G-d?” Therefore, he fasted 85 times to beseech Divine Help in understanding this anomaly.

The Medrash relates that a malach (heavenly angel) came down and revealed “the secret” to him. At the time of Yetzias Mitzrayim (the Exodus), the pasuk says, “But against the Children of Israel a dog will not sharpen its tongue...” (Shemos 11:7). In the merit of this ‘action,’ the dogs merited to recite the pasuk attributed to them in Perek Shira.

The precise point of this Medrash is the idea mentioned above: Dogs are full of chutzpah by nature. It is a dog’s innate nature to bark, especially when it senses that something unusual is transpiring. For the dogs not to bark at such a time demonstrates a tremendous conquest over their normal inclinations. The Ribono shel Olam appreciates that. Thus, the Medrash’s point is the following: Despite the fact that dogs are azei nefesh, and in spite of the fact that they normally bark, they were greatly rewarded by virtue of the fact that they conquered this natural inclination and remained silent at the time of the Makas Bechoros (the Plague of the First Born). We learn from dogs to people: People too should strive for kvishas hayetzer (conquering their evil inclination) in service of Hashem.

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