The Matzah in the Middle

Written by Rabbi Elliott Karstadt — 26 April 2024

On seder night we hold up three pieces of matzah, say some words, then break the middle matzah. Why do we only break the middle one? Why do we break them at all?

There are many interpretations to the ritual of the matzah.

My first thought as I was thinking about this was The Matzah in the Middle reminded me of the TV show Malcolm in the Middle, which I would often watch on Sunday evenings as a teenager. It’s now far too old for our Ruach participants to know about – I also asked younger members of our professional team, and they did not remember it. But it had a very distinctive theme song that repeated the line ‘You’re not the boss of me now’ sung aggressively by a band called They May Be Giants – which makes it very relevant to Pesach. But that is sadly where the relevance ends, and I had instead to turn instead to more traditional sources for my understanding.

As with every ritual it has layers: there is one layer in the Torah – the instruction to eat matzah in commemoration of the exodus from Egypt. But that simply tells us that we should eat the matzah. Another layer was added by the rabbis when they adopted the practices of a Roman banquet or Greek symposium as the basis for our evening of celebration.

One understanding is that the three matzahs represent a kind of narrative – the first (unbroken) matzah is to represent the Israelites when they originally went down to Egypt. They go down whole and innocent, all of them together. The third (also unbroken) matzah represents the Israelites as they come out of Egypt. Again, they come out whole, as Moses says, we will not leave a hoof behind. There are even stories of Moses remembering to bring with him the bones of Joseph, who had long ago been buried in Egypt. The middle matzah then represents the Israelites when they are in Egypt – when they are enslaved to Pharoah and in need of saving by a strong hand and an outstretched arm. They are unable to be whole when they are oppressed in this way. The experience of slavery is a kind of blemish, and kind of brokenness, only made whole when they leave.

And over the course of the evening of the Seder we bring those broken pieces back together – ready for the Israelites to leave Egypt.

Another understanding of the three matzahs takes on a narrative that has a much longer ark – a much longer period of time. This interpretation of the three matzahs understands the first (unbroken) matzah as representing the first redemption of the Israelites – the redemption from Egypt that we are celebrating in the Seder. The third (also unbroken) matzah is understood to represent the future redemption of the Jewish people at the end of time – the future world to come. In this case, then, the middle matzah represents the time between those two complete redemptions – including our world. When we break that middle matzah we acknowledge that our world is broken – that it is in need of repair. Our world – not just the world of the Israelites coming out of Egypt.

This interpretation reminds us of our responsibility to the world, to make it a better place. To try to bring those broken pieces together, to redeem the world as thoroughly as God did in bringing the Israelites out of Egypt. And who do we get to go and find the missing piece? The children! So is it that we expect that our children will be the ones to redeem the world? Or might it mean that the reason and the meaning that we find in the repairing of the world is that we are doing it for our children – that it is for the sake of future generations that we are trying to bring those two halves of the broken matzah back together.

Here is a problem with the symbolism. Are we constantly deferring the healing of the world and the redemption of our people to the next generation? Or are we constantly looking back and blaming our parents’ and grandparents’ generations for not having redeemed the world for our sake?

Actually, this brings me back to the show Malcolm in the Middle (did you really think I had abandoned that thread?) Because that was a show about a dysfunctional family – often in which parents and children would blame each other for the ills of their fortunes, expecting each other to pick up the pieces. But of course the viewers learned each week that it was usually six of one and half a dozen of the other – that both parents and children were responsible for repairing their broken relationships and broken aspirations.

As we reminded in Pirkei Avot: lo alecha it is not entirely our responsibility to repair the world, but nor are we entirely free to desist from that work. Perhaps this is also the lesson of the Matzah in the Middle.