We're constantly juggling seemingly contradictory ideas, holding them in tension, trying to find the deeper truth hidden within. Here's a perfect example, straight from Sifrei Devarim, a fascinating collection of legal interpretations on the Book of Deuteronomy.
The question? How long exactly are we supposed to eat matzah during Passover?
It seems simple enough. But here’s the thing: one verse says "Six days shall you eat matzoth," and another, from Exodus (Shemoth 13:6), says "Seven days shall you eat matzoth!" So, which is it? Six or seven?
Rabbi Shimon ben Elazar, a sage whose insights are often sprinkled throughout rabbinic literature, offers a beautiful solution. He suggests that the six days refer to eating matzah made from the new grain, harvested after the omer offering – that's the barley offering brought on the second day of Passover. And the seven days? Those refer to matzah made from the old grain, from the previous year's harvest. Problem solved! Or is it? Perhaps the deeper point here is about understanding the nuances of the text and appreciating the layers of meaning embedded within. It reminds us that sometimes, apparent contradictions point to a richer, more complex truth.
But the Sifrei Devarim doesn't stop there. It tackles another verse, this time concerning the seventh day of Passover: "and on the seventh day is a holding back (atzereth) for the L-rd your G-d. You shall do no work." (Devarim 16:8). The word atzereth, often translated as "solemn assembly" or "cessation," hints at a day of intense spiritual focus.
Now, if you’re anything like me, you might initially think: "Okay, an atzereth – a holding back – means I should spend the entire day locked away in the beit midrash, the house of study, poring over sacred texts!”. Immersed in Torah, completely dedicated to the divine. Sounds admirable, doesn't it?
But the text anticipates this very line of reasoning. It adds, “a ‘holding back’ shall there be for you.” That little addition changes everything.
So, how do we reconcile these verses? How do we balance the call for spiritual immersion with the recognition that we are, after all, human beings with earthly needs? The answer is both elegant and practical: Devote a portion to the house of study, and devote a portion to eating and drinking.
It's a beautiful example of the Jewish tradition's emphasis on balance. We're not meant to live as disembodied intellects, solely focused on the spiritual realm. We are meant to engage with the world, to find joy in its pleasures, to nourish our bodies as well as our souls. The seventh day of Passover, the atzereth, becomes a day of both spiritual reflection and mindful enjoyment.
What does this teach us? Perhaps it's that true holiness isn't about denying ourselves pleasure, but about finding holiness in pleasure. It’s about sanctifying the everyday, recognizing the divine spark in every aspect of our lives – from the study of Torah to the shared meal with loved ones. And isn’t that a beautiful thought to carry with us, long after Passover has ended?