Adapted by Channie Koplowitz Stein
One of the main features of the Seder table is the Seder plate alongside three matzos. Almost at the beginning of the Seder, we take the middle matzah, break it not-quite in half, and “hide” the larger half to be eaten later as the afikomon, representing the korbon Pesach. The smaller half remains on the table to be used during the Seder.
As we expect at the Seder, this ritual asks questions. Why break a matzah at all, why the middle matzah, and why hide half, specifically the larger half? Rabbi Pinchas Friedman provides us with the source for breaking the matzah. Using the Biblical spelling of the mitzvah for eating matzah on Pesach on Pesach, he explains our practice. The Torah (Devarim 16:3) says, “For seven days you shall eat matzos because of it, לחם עני /[poor man’s] bread of affliction.” However, since the word for poor/ affliction as written without a vov, it can be read either as oni/ poor, or as ani/ answer. Is this bread the symbol of poverty and affliction, or is it symbolic of the question and answer Seder format? Since both are correct, we break the matzah in two.
Breaking the matzah in two reminds us of our relationship with Hakodosh Boruch Hu, a relationship Hashem established with our Patriarch Avraham Avinu at The Covenant between the Halves. There was an ancient practice, like today’s handshake, of formalizing an agreement or covenant. Avraham Avinu split the animals and Hashem’s presence passed between the halves, symbolizing His acceptance of the terms of the Covenant, explains R. Yosef Albo zt”l.
In a beautiful, related interpretation, R. Biderman quotes a Chasidic idea, as a parable of two close friends who must separate. They take a picture together, tear it in half, each taking half to keep the memory of their friend alive even when they are apart. [Have you seen the pair of pendants, each with half a heart on a separate chain? CKS] At the end of the Seder, when we are redeemed, we take out the hidden half as we are reunited with Hakodosh Boruch Hu, our dearest Friend. This is the night of our symbolic engagement to Hakodosh Boruch Hu, the “wedding” to be consummated when we accept the Torah at Sinai the Torah, reminds us the Netivot Shalom. Now we are apart, but we long to be reunited with our long lost Friend. We keep that half for the end of the Seder, signifying the final redemption.
This connection was demonstrated when Moshe returned from Har Sinai and taught Bnei Yisroel what Hashem had said. After Bnei Yisroel accepted the Torah, the Tablets of the Covenant, they built an altar and brought offerings to Hashem. Moshe took the blood of the offerings, sprinkled half on the altar and half on Bnei Yisroel, sealing the covenant, writes Rabbi Schorr in Halekach Vehalebuv. It is blood that is used to seal the covenant, for “the blood is the life.” (Devarim 12:23)
But as long as we are in the Diaspora, we are not whole. Dovid Hamelech writes in Tehillim 98:8 , “With חצוצרות /trumpets and שופר /shofar sound, call out before the King.” As Rabbi Schorr explains, as long as we are in the Diaspora, we are only חצי צורה, half of the form we are meant to be. but when Moshiach comes, prophesies Yeshayah, “The great shofar will be blown, and those who are lost… will come together… to Hashem on the holy mountain in Yerushalayim.” Now we are only half, but at that time, a time we anticipate during the second half of the Seder, we will be whole.
In Bni Bechori Yisroel, Rabbi Kluger suggests that there is a third component to the broken matzah. The space between the two halves represents the supra-natural, our relationship with Hashem. When we break the matzah we are again entering that space and hoping for redemption.
Rabbi Daniel Gladstein, citing the Chida, presents an interesting interpretation of why we break the matzah in half. While the enslavement itself was prophesied to last 400 years, the prophecy included being an alien in a nation not their own. That would include another thirty years that Avraham Avinu was in Canaan after the birth of Yitzchak Avinu, making the total 430 years. [In negotiating for a the Meorat Hamachpelah to bury Sarah, Avraham Avinu describes himself as an “alien resident.” CKS] Since the Egyptians forced us to work both night and day, doubling the servitude, the chronological time was cut in half, serving only 215 years. We halve the matzah in recognition of this calculation.
The question remains, why do we break the middle matzah? Traditionally, the three matzot represent Kohein, Levi and Yisroel. Although Bnei Yisroel were enslaved, the Tribe of Levi was exempt from servitude. They were only subject to half the prophecy, to being a stranger in an alien land. Therefore, we remove half the matzah representing Levi as we recount the servitude.
Egypt was a danger to our spiritual lives as well as to our physical lives. Most of Bnei Yisroel in Egypt had assimilated, but not the Tribe of Levi, notes the Novominsker Rav zt”l. We turn our attention to Shevet Levi who preserved our mesorah/tradition during the enslavement. As the Be’er Hachayim says, we are reminded that anyone, in any circumstances, can “steal away” some part of his day to study and serve Hashem as Levi did.
Tosafos teaches that the three matzot are a metaphor for our patriarchs, Avraham Avinu, Yitzchak Avinu and Yaakov Avinu. But then, why do we specifically break the middle matzah representing Yitzchak Avinu? Rabbi Gladstein turns homiletic and points to Yitzchak Avinu’s name. Although this is the usual spelling and pronunciation, there are three verses in Tanach where the name is spelled and read Yischak. According to the medrash, the name was originally ישחק/Yischak. Hashem approached the Avos and offered to reduce the servitude of Bnei Yisroel if one of the Avos would volunteer to surrender a letter of his name. Yischak volunteered, changing his name to Yitzchak Avinu and coming to the defense of Bnei Yisroel, not only his children, but also Hashem’s children. The numerical difference between the two letters is 210, the actual number of years of the enslavement [again demonstrating Yitzchak Avinu’s sacrificial nature. CKS].
But why did Avraham Avinu Avinu and Yaakov Avinu Avinu not agree to this challenge for Bnei Yisroel? [Just a thought: Is it possible that both Avraham Avinu and Yaakov Avinu had name changes directly from Hashem whereas Yitzchak Avinu, although given his original name by Hashem, had never had a name change. Was Yitzchak Avinu emulating Hashem by changing his name for the good, as Hashem had done for Avram and Yaakov Avinu? CKS] Citing Rabbi Gestetner, Rabbi Glatstein suggests that Avraham Avinu and Yaakov Avinu wanted this galus to be the only exile. By shortening this time, Bnei Yisroel would be subject to suffering the additional diasporas. Yitzchak Avinu reasoned let us take care of the present and not worry about the future. While my original name, Yischak, alludes to the final redemption when “our mouths will be filled with שחק/ laughter, let us hasten the current, Egyptian redemption.
Yitzchak Avinu asked Hashem to share the burden, each, Hashem and Yitzchak Avinu, to carry חצי, half the load. Yitzchak Avinu would assume responsibility for the sins of his son Esau, while Hashem would assume the burden of the sins caused by the yetzer horo Hashem had implanted in mankind, writes Rabbi Spero. We therefore break the middle matzah that represents Yitzchak Avinu.
In an interesting twist, the Shvilei Pinchas finds a connection between the middle matzah representing both Levi and Yitzchak Avinu. While kohein is part of levi, kohein represents rachamim/ compassion and mercy in contrast to the trait of Levi as a whole. Levi represents gevurah, absolute integrity that demands pure justice, pure din. By breaking the middle matzah, we are symbolically shattering the power of din and transforming it to rachamim. Even more interesting is that the gematria of gevurah/ גבורה/ gevurah is 216 and the numerical equivalent of יחץ/ yachatz is 108, half the value of gevurah. By breaking the middle matzah, we are breaking the power of gevurah. Further, of our three Patriarchs, Yitzchak Avinu himself is associated with gevurah and din. We are tempering the din of both Levi and Yitzchak Avinu and exchanging it for rachamim when we break the matzah.
Citing the Rabbi of Zidichov, Shvilei Pinchas offers further numerical interpretations for splitting the matzah. The verse in Tehillim 65 reads, “פלג אלקים מלא מים /…From God’s stream filled with water.” But peleg can also be translated as split, divided. [Dor haflaga was the generation where society became divided. CKS] Using this definition, we reinterpret the verse to read “splitting [peleg = 43] [the word] Elokhim [= 86], we get much water,” water being the symbol of blessing and rachamim. Forty three is the gematria of טוב ה*ו*י*ה/ “Hashem is good to all, and His Divine mercy extend to all of His creations.” By cutting Elokhim in half, through prayer, we can transform the power of judgment to chesed and rachamim.
To further validate this interpretation, the Shvilei Pinchas notes that Psalm 100, Mizmor L’Todah/ A Song of Thanksgiving has exactly 43 words and ends with “For Hashem is good, His kindness endured forever…” We can see the kindness even in judgment. And on Yom Kippur, the Kohein Gadol sprinkled the blood of the offering on the altar a total of 43 times to mitigate the power of the judgment of the day.
We believe that Hashem is all good, even when that goodness is hidden from us. The Shvilei Pinchas explains that when it appears that the power of din prevails in the world, we can see Hashem and rachamim hidden by computing our numerical values in their diminutive forms [meaning only digits 1-9 are counted for every letter; all zeros that follow for tens or hundreds don’t count.] Then we get the four lettered name of Hashem is 17, the same number as טוב/ tov, good.
We allude to the future redemption by putting the larger piece of matzah representing the full value of the four lettered Name away as the symbol for the future redemption when all will be understood as good. Therefore we conclude the Seder by revealing [and eating] the larger piece of matzah and Hallel. singing praised to Hashem Whose goodness endures forever.
We do not see the full picture now as we recite the Seder over the smaller piece of Matzah. we feel lowly and depressed, downtrodden into the ground, as we eat the karpas, the root vegetable writes Rabbi Kluger. The broken matzah that follow represents the broken heart within us. Now the matzah is “the bread of affliction,” for we do not see the end, when all will be revealed and we will understand what was good in the darkness. While children search for the afikomon, that larger piece of matzah, expecting gifts, we recognize that Hashem is always giving us gift for all we do.
Since the larger broken half of the matzah represents the korbon Pesach, we save it for the end of the Seder. The Seder is recited over the smaller, broken piece of matzah, representing a broken heart. As Rabbi Krohn reminds us, Hashem loves nothing more than a broken heart. While in the physical world, things that are broken have diminished or no value, in the spiritual world, the broken and humble have great value. It is through brokenness that one grows and learns appreciation. And even in the physical world, we come to appreciate what we have after we have lost them for a time.
The afikomon represents the vision and hope for the future redemption that is hidden from us, the connection we have lost and hope to regain. As the Shalom Rav Haggadah implies, this future is in the hands of the children. They can “steal” and determine the future, unify the nation, and create merit for the future redemption.
Why do we hide the afikomon? To teach emunah, to know that even in our brokenness, the redemption still exists, waiting to be revealed, writes the Bostoner Rebbe. As long as you continue searching, you still believe. Your physical searching is a manifestation of the spiritual essence.
Rabbi Schorr presents us with an interesting custom. Since Seder night is considered a leil shimurim, a guarded night, some keep a piece of the afikomon as a protection for the rest of the year. Whether or not we keep a piece of the afikomon, the lesson should remain with us through the year. Hashem is with us all the time, in all our challenges, even though His presence is hidden from us. Hashem’s judgment is tempered with love and compassion for us, his children. And the day will come, hopefully soon, when we will celebrate Pesach in Yerushalayim and offer the korbon Pesach now represented by the afikomon, the hidden half of the middle matzah.
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