Left With the Afikoman

From the brokenness of yachatz comes a larger piece of joy, a larger piece of hope.

Photo courtesy of Wannapik.

I want to tell you about something my dad talked about at my family’s passover seder. I would say that it immediately struck a chord with me when he said it, but it didn’t because I wasn’t paying attention. However, he told me about it again the next day and then it struck a chord with me!

The idea has to do with the fourth step of the seder, yachatz, the breaking of the middle matzah. Rabbanit Alissa Thomas-Newborn says that the broken matzah represents the brokenness in ourselves and in the world, our exodus journey from despair to redemption. There have been a lot of reasons to feel broken lately. In Israel, online, and of course on our own campus. Just like matzah during yachatz, it’s our natural reaction to feel shattered. But after yachatz, the matzah is broken in two. The smaller piece goes back with the others and the larger part becomes the afikoman.

The larger part becomes the dessert that we hide and find and celebrate. From the brokenness of yachatz comes a larger piece of joy, a larger piece of hope. We can think of ourselves moving all the pain and suffering to one side so that we can break it off, leaving ourselves with the afikoman.

I love my Ohio State Hillel community and I’m so grateful to be co-president of the student board, but when I was first offered the position, I was hesitant to accept. Would being co-president of Hillel place a target on my back? Would our need for activism and advocacy, something I’m not naturally drawn to, force me to become someone I’m not? Could I lead a large community of Jews when I myself feel scared to call out my friends posting antisemitic rhetoric? What about when my own voice trembles as I mutter “thank you” to campus security officers? How could I be a fearless leader when I’m not really fearless?

It’s okay to feel scared. It’s okay to feel worried. And it turns out, all I needed to do was move my doubts over to one side of my matzah, and break it off. And then I was holding the afikoman.