50 | MARCH 30 • 2023 

Y

achatz describes the portion of 
the seder in which the middle of 
three pieces of matzah is split in 
two. The smaller piece is returned to the 
table, tucked in between the two remain-
ing whole matzot, and the 
larger of the broken pieces 
is wrapped up and secreted 
away, to be sought, found 
and eaten at the seder’s con-
clusion. 
During Yachatz, we 
pretend not to see the act 
of hiding. Only later is it 
announced, “Now is the time to search 
for the afikoman, the hidden, broken 
piece of matzah, that we all turned our 
attention to early on in the seder and that 
we each must partake of in order to com-
plete the seder meal.”
If Passover is a holiday about found 
freedom and realized redemption, surely 
it also carries within its potent message 
a reminder to seek, name, taste and pay 
attention to that which is (or we might 
say those parts of us which are) not free 
or redeemed, that which is broken, cast 
away, rendered off limits.
We point to the whole matzah as a 
symbol of the slavery our ancestors 
endured and then rejected. We locate 
in the broken matzah our own cracked 
edges, our unfulfilled yearnings and unre-
alized potential. It suggests all the ways 
we are not yet whole, all within us that we 
feel compelled to hide, all about us that 
remains undiscovered, enslaved. The bro-
ken matzah represents the parts of us we 
or others reject. Therefore, we hide it. 
But without finding “it,” the afikoman, 
it is impossible to continue with the seder. 
And without acknowledging the broken 
and partial aspects of our ways of living, 
it is unlikely that positive growth and rec-
onciliation will occur in our lives as indi-
viduals and in the world as a whole.
Why do we hide the broken matzah, 
only to retrieve and consume it later on? 
To me, this is a profoundly Jewish ritual 
for the following reason: It recognizes and 
allows us to act out the human tendency 
to want to hide or ignore those things 
about others and ourselves that reveal our 
fragility, weakness and limitations. 

And then, the seder script calls upon us 
to search for and hold aloft, in plain view, 
the found broken matzah, symbolic of all 
that we put energy into keeping out of 
sight and out of mind. Not surprisingly, 
it is our children, those uncannily per-
ceptive youngsters who sense our vulner-
abilities most acutely, who triumphantly 
return to the table with the afikoman to 
announce in essence, “You can’t contin-
ue this celebration until you own up to 
having hidden things from us and your-
selves. Admit to being less than whole 
and in need of repair as individuals, as 
families, as a Jewish community, as global 
citizens. Show us your good intentions to 
acknowledge these truths, and then we 
can go on.”
So, we negotiate their claims and our 
responsibilities and the seder continues, 
but it does not reach its conclusion until 
we have each swallowed a piece of the 
very same broken matzah. In chewing 
and swallowing, we own — we claim — 
all that is partial, incomplete, rejected and 
hidden away in ourselves and our world. 
We do so humbly, recognizing the many 
ways in which we are not yet whole and 
transparent.
Blessings accompany the myriad parts 
of the seder, but no prayer is recited 
before we break the middle matzah on 
our seder plate. It is a silent act, one that 
begs reflection:
What in our lives and in our world is 

broken and in need of repair? 
What can we learn from that which is 
more hidden than revealed? 
For what do we quest in an attempt to 
become whole? 
What might actually bring us whole-
ness/shalom? 
Can we do something, anything, to heal 
the divisions that keep us from seeing and 
honoring all people, all creation?
Perhaps these thoughts and the follow-
ing reading by Sharon Cohen Anisfeld as 
found in The Women’s Seder Sourcebook will 
add new perspective to the sedarim. Get a 
copy of the book to enjoy the entire pas-
sage, which includes these lines:
This is the afikoman.
It is up to the children to find it before 
the seder can come to an end.
In this game of hide and seek,
We remind ourselves that we do not 
begin to know all that our children will 
reveal to us.
We do not begin to understand the 
mysteries that they will uncover,
The broken pieces they will find,
The hidden fragments in need of repair.
Together, may we make whole all that is 
broken. 

Rabbi Lenore Bohm is the author of Torah Tutor: A 

Contemporary Torah Study Guide. The lines from The 

Women’s Seder Sourcebook, published by Jewish 

Lights, are used with permission.

PASSOVER

Rabbi Lenore 
Bohm

The Broken Matzah

