When we raise the matzah at the Seder table, we are tuning into two contradictory experiences.

First, we encounter the matzah as the “bread of affliction,” as we attest at the opening of the Haggadah. This is the meager ration of bondage—the cracker-like bread the Egyptians forced upon our ancestors because they wouldn’t provide the time or means for a real meal. Yet, by the end of the Haggadah, the narrative shifts: matzah becomes the “bread of freedom.”[1] It reminds us of the haste with which we left Egypt—a dough so hurried it had no time to rise.

At the start of the Seder, we simply discuss these two elements. We chant the words, unpack the history, and delve into the symbolism until the concepts are clear in our minds. But intellectual clarity isn’t the goal. In discussion, we are still talking about the past; a bondage of ancestors long gone, the Exodus of an ancient era.

The true objective of the Seder night is to experience redemption for ourselves. We declare this early on: if not for G-d liberating our ancestors, we and our descendants would still be enslaved. By the end of the night, we pronounce that every person must see themselves as if they, personally, had just walked out of Egypt.

But how? How do we enter that mindset when we are 3,338 years removed from the event? This is why we follow the readings with the act of eating. The culinary experience bypasses the brain and stirs the kishkes in a visceral way. As we crunch the matzah, the flavor and texture bridge the centuries. As our ancestors chewed, so do we. As they crunched, so do we. As they swallowed, so do we. This sensory immersion ingrains the experience until the walls of time melt........

© The Times of Israel (Blogs)