Given the current price per pound, it sure doesn’t feel like Matzah is lechem oni, the bread of the poor person. This year, 200,000 pounds of handmade shmurah matzah were baked and shipped from Ukraine to the United States, in addition to what is shipped to Europe and Israel. But two hours before the last 20,000 pounds were loaded onto a ship in the port of Odessa, Russia invaded, and the matzahs have been stuck in limbo since. Partially due to Putin, but also because of general supply chain issues and increased gas and shipping prices, the cost of matzah—and seemingly everything else for Pesach—is incredibly high.
More people than I can remember in any previous year have shared with me that they simply don’t know how they will afford Pesach this year. Some have explicitly said that when they stand in the supermarkets and look at the prices, they calculate that they can buy matzah or meat but not both.
The bad news is that the prices this year are affecting more people than ever. The good news is that there is a solution to enable everyone to have a beautiful and simcha-filled Pesach.
Since the creation of the luxury Pesach programs, rabbis have been railing against them for their excessiveness, extravagance and the forfeiting of many of the traditions involved in preparing and experiencing Pesach. Ironically, many of those same rabbis have later “eaten their words” and accepted invitations to serve as scholars in residence, bringing their families to the very type of five-star experience they had long condemned.
But internal contradictions aside, there is a more fundamental reason not to rail against such programs: There is nothing inherently wrong with them. True, kashrus can be complicated at these programs, and yes, not all the environments and activities at every program are appropriate for Yom Tov, or ever. But these are not intrinsic or inherent deficiencies and just mean that one must choose the program carefully.
Baruch Hashem, there are many large Jewish families that, for practical reasons, simply cannot experience a Yom Tov together if they are not at a program. In addition, there are those who are unable to make Pesach for themselves, don’t have family to go to, and rely on a program in order to experience a proper Pesach. And then there are those who can simply afford to experience the luxury of a Pesach program and, given that they are often generous with their support of charitable and communal institutions, why shouldn’t they?
But there is a caveat. There is no Jewish holiday and no Jewish experience that divides the “haves” from the “have-nots” more than Pesach. The contrast between those experiencing Pesach with endless menu options, midnight barbecues, quinoa sushi stations and round-the-clock tea rooms, and those who literally don’t know how they will buy matzah or wine, let alone meat, is startling and staggering.
As a community rabbi, I am exposed to both extremes. When arranging for the sale of chametz, I like to ask what people’s Pesach plans are. Often, I find myself meeting with someone who, with joy and excitement on his face and great anticipation in his voice, will describe the latest exotic location of the program he is attending this year or the newest amenity or entertainment being offered. Literally moments later, someone will answer the same question with a tear in his eye and worry on his face and say I have no idea how I am going to afford matzah and wine this year because I am barely covering my bills day-to-day without these added expenses.
The Rambam writes (Hilchos Yom Tov 6:18):
When a person eats and drinks [in celebration of a holiday], he is obligated to feed converts, orphans, widows and others who are destitute and poor. In contrast, a person who locks the gates of his courtyard and eats and drinks with his children and his wife, without feeding the poor and the embittered, is [not indulging in] rejoicing associated with a mitzvah, but rather in simchas kreiso, the rejoicing of his gut.
Though the Rambam is speaking of every holiday, there is a special practice of providing for others specifically before Pesach. The Rama (O.C. 429:1) quotes from the Talmud Yerushalmi, (Bava Basra 1:4), which states that residents of a city should give wheat or flour for matzah to those in their city in need. This is known as kimcha d’pischa, flour for Pesach, or maos chitim, money for wheat.
And yet, even with the widespread practice of giving to maos chittim, there remain far too many who struggle to keep up with the exorbitant cost of making even a basic, no-frills Pesach and are left having to cut back and sacrifice in other areas just to get through what should be a joyous holiday season.
And herein lies the caveat. There is nothing wrong with enjoying and indulging in the luxuries a Pesach program provides, or with making a beautiful, elegant Pesach at home, for that matter, so long as everyone from your community can afford to have the basic necessities. There is no set amount mandated for maos chitim, but I humbly submit the following proposal:
Just as with tzedakah, where we are instructed to give a percentage of our income, our maos chitim should similarly be calculated based on how much we spend on ourselves for Pesach. If all of those who attend Pesach programs gave proportionally to maos chitim, we could ensure that all members of our communities have what they need for Pesach without having to compromise or make trade-offs with other basic necessities. And in the spirit of Pesach, v’chol hamarbeh, harei zeh m’shubach—anyone who can and does give more is certainly worthy of praise.
True, many Pesach programs run fundraisers over Yom Tov for all kinds of worthwhile causes, but only a fraction of people participate, and by that point it is too late to help serve this particular, urgent need. It is instructive that the practice of giving to maos chitim is quoted in the context of the law that mandates that we begin preparations 30 days before Pesach.
Not knowing how one will afford to make Pesach for their family brings unimaginable anxiety, stress and worry that compound an already difficult situation. The sooner people can be provided for and have the security that their family will indeed enjoy the amenities of Pesach, the less they will worry and fear.
A woman once approached the Beis HaLevi, Rav Yosef Dov Soloveitchik of Brisk, a few days before Pesach with a strange question. She wanted to know whether one could use milk instead of wine for the four cups of the Seder. The Rav asked her if she was ill, to which she replied that she was perfectly healthy. He then responded by giving her a large sum of money. After she left, the Rebbetzin asked her husband why he had given the woman so much money, when wine costs much less. He responded, “If she is asking about drinking milk at the Seder, it is obvious that she has no meat for Pesach, so I gave her enough to buy both wine and meat for the entire holiday.”
When we sit down for our beautiful, bountiful Seder with our loved ones, our simchas Yom Tov should be enhanced by the knowledge that we have done what we can to ensure that none of our brothers and sisters is sitting down to a bare table where real tears substitute for salt water.
We are already well within 30 days of Pesach. Whether you are going to a Pesach program or making Pesach at home, please don’t wait to make sure that everyone can enjoy Pesach. When you are deciding how much to give, please consider what you are spending on your own Pesach for fine wines, delicious meats and pounds of handmade shmurah matzah, and give commensurately to ensure a beautiful Pesach for all your neighbors as well. Knowing that nobody in your neighborhood is struggling for Pesach will be more delicious, intoxicating, satisfying, and simcha-generating than anything on your table.
Rabbi Efrem Goldberg is mara d’asra of Boca Raton Synagogue.
