As Pesach draws near we are still at war. Loved ones are in precarious places and many will not be sitting at the table with whom they had planned. Heartbreak persists and we continue to search.

I can’t remember the exact year, but one time no matter how long and thoroughly we searched, we could not find the Afikoman. It did not help that my niece – now poised to become a grandmother – had drifted off to sleep on the brown crushed velvet living room couch – taking the Afikoman with her into her dreams.

To our tremendous astonishment and amusement, we ultimately did find that Afikoman. It was right before the next Pesach, during the search for the Chametz – the night before the holiday. With feather and candle in hand we spotted the very flat Afikoman in an upstairs bedroom planted deeply under the spare bed, flush with the carpet.

The irony was not lost on us. Sometimes while looking for one thing, you locate another long lost quite forgotten treasure. But could there be more?

This long-forgotten family memory resurfaced as I was talking to our five-year-old granddaughter on our almost daily after-school Brooklyn to Seattle phone call. She was reporting about her day in Pre-1A learning about the Search for the Chametz. And then, the memory of that lost Afikoman kicked in!  I embellished spectacularly to capture the drama of it all and then I reflected. The story presents a compelling juxtaposition that had never occurred to me before. Our observance of Pesach from preparation to execution of the Seder is bracketed by searches – two searches that end in consumption – burned in one case – eaten on the other.

On the eve before the holiday we conduct a search, Bedikat Chametz. Many Haggadahs begin with this ritual with first pages featuring the Blessing over the Search and the declaration after, of being rid of all the Chametz in our homes. There is often a painting or sketch depicting a family traipsing through the house with members holding the candle, another the feather and one trusted with the vessel holding the found pieces of Chametz carefully through the pristine, sparkling home cleansed of all its leaven in time for the holiday. Accompanying the seekers is the heady lingering aroma of holiday dishes cooked earlier – perhaps the Gefilte Fish, Chicken Soup or applesauce perfuming the air as the search party weaves its way through the home.

Then towards the end of the Seder meal, after bellies are quite full and the children are approaching their meltdown point – someone usually cries out, Tzafun! The step in the Seder that cues the end of the meal, “Hidden” – code word for – time to find the hidden Afikoman and thus to begin the bargaining and negotiating for producing the precious item. Depending on the time and the age of the participants there are several possible scenarios.

Perhaps an adult has managed to wrench themselves out of their soporific Seder sprawl and stumble around feigning a sincere search or more likely the children now experiencing second winds have simply enthusiastically retrieved the hidden Afikoman and are demanding  their “Afikoman Present” – which again depending on the household may have already been purchased and ready to simply be produced or a fantastical demand might be made with tremendous hope and optimism. In our family a legendary rare successful negotiation for an extravagant Afikoman present was pitched by my sister for the retrieval of said Afikoman in exchange for a new bicycle. Unclear why fate had smiled upon her so – but she got that bicycle!

All of this brings us to the question – what is going on here? Why these two searches; one for puffed up yeasty Chametz that is to be burned and destroyed and the other for the broken matzah made of just flour and water, baked quickly to prevent rising, hidden for the Afikoman? What story do these contrasting breads tell and what meaning might these searches have to offer us?

Talmud Berachot relates a number of  personal prayers that individual Sages would offer each day as part of their supplications. Rabbi Alexandri’s moving petition evokes the metaphor of Chametz:

Sovereign of the Universe, it is revealed and known before You that our will is to perform Your will, and what prevents us? The yeast in the dough…

It is the puffed-up nature of our human ego that prevents us from being our best selves – the Chametz that foments deep in our being. Rabbi Yerucham of Mir drew a picture of each of us searching the chambers of our souls with a candle and a feather for crumbs of misdeeds. While the Ishbitzer sees the search as tool to remind ourselves that though the world is dark we each have a candle to shine the way forward and for Rav Kook the search is in the depth of our souls to remove the Chametz which blocks our holiness and nobility. And stunningly, the Lubavitcher Rebbe reminds us that it is the search that matters not necessarily the discovery.

Each of these interpretations drives us to be reminded that as we write lists for the upcoming house cleaning strategies and compile recipes and exchange ideas for new animating shtick for our Seders – we must remind ourselves that Pesach observance is truly about a call to a renewed level of spirituality. No small task. The Search for Chametz is a keen visceral practice that demands that we pause and redirect ourselves as Pesach approaches – a reminder of the Big Idea – freedom must move us to be better. The Search for Chametz, though, taking place during the chaotic rush to the holiday finish line – is asking us to pause – to set an intention for our Seders and our Pesach observance.

And what of the Afikoman search? Might it be a reminder that there is a shared redemption waiting to be found – though it doesn’t seem to be coming easily. We must hunt through every room of the house — and though any piece of Matzah may be eaten for the Afikoman – the one that we have truly searched for – with herculean efforts, that one, that Afikoman has an otherworldly taste and a promise for a better tomorrow.

© The Times of Israel (Blogs)