Perhaps you’re familiar with “Way Too Much Challah Dough,” the children’s story about the little girl who naps while baking and fretfully dreams about the challah dough rising, rising, rising until it fills every corner of the house.
She wakes up and discovers it was all a bad dream.
Now substitute the chametz in that story for the concept of ego, and you come to the heart of what Pesach is all about.
Rosh Hashanah demands attention to all of the negative traits we may possess. The Ten Days of Repentance symbolize a top-to-bottom spiritual housecleaning. By contrast, Pesach is like the story of the young girl because only one character issue needs to be addressed.
Ego.
Ego, to put it simply, fills up every available space in our lives, just as the challah dough filled every space in the little girl’s dream. Unchecked ego leaves no room for anything or anyone else. Ego says the world is all about me. By contrast, matzah, lechem oni, the poor person’s bread or the bread of affliction, lies flat, representing the virtue of humility.
When we are cleaning out the chametz from our homes, we’re supposed to be cleaning out the chametz or ego inside our own souls, as evidenced by the way we view ourselves and treat other people. If I’m all wrapped up in myself, I make a very small package. Or as Hillel put it, if I only for myself, what am I?
It’s been said that the problems of success are better than the problems of failure, but they are still problems. And one of the biggest problems of success, of the freedom and affluence we Americans are privileged to enjoy, is the rise and rise and rise of ego.
The Psalmist reminds us not to get carried away with ourselves, not to believe that our success is due to otzi v’koach yadi, my strength and the power of my arm. Instead, everything good in our lives comes to us from God. It’s just that God works through people to deliver those good things.
Human beings were meant to be in the hishtadlus or effort business. But the challenge is that when we exert effort and we get great results, we forget there was a Divine hand guiding things.
So what happens? Our egos get inflated, like that massive bowl of challah dough. We think it’s all about us. We move from Divine service to lip service. And that’s when the trouble begins.
When our egos inflate, we start thinking what do I need God for? It’s like the story about the father who loses his small child at the mall and says, “God, I’ll do anything if you just bring my child back!”
Suddenly the child appears.
“God, never mind. I’ve got this.”
There is no bigger first step on the road to ruin than thinking, “God, I’ve got this,” or even worse, not thinking at all. You see this kind of arrogance in our synagogues, where people race through prayers as if they had contempt for the obligation to pray. Or they’re chattering away, oblivious to those trying to focus on their d’veikus or connection to Hashem.
We see ego at work in the way we flaunt our money, brag about our vacations, or use our financial blessings to dominate synagogue boards or day schools. We lose sight of the fact that we put in the effort, but God created the results.
And then comes Pesach, which can be one of two things: This can be the time when we’re bragging about or displaying our latest successes. Or it can be the time that we really take to heart the metaphor of chametz versus matzah, egotism versus humility, I come first versus we’re all in this together.
The beautiful thing about Judaism is that we each have freedom to choose what our holidays mean to us, or whether they mean anything at all. You can stay at the shallow end, but you’ll be missing the depth, the real meaning of what life is all about, which is acknowledging God’s greatness and God’s goodness, while respecting the humanity of those around us.
This Pesach, when you’re selling your chametz, maybe also see if you can tamp down the ego and find a path to real humility. Your co-religionists in your synagogue will thank you. Your family and friends will thank you. Other drivers might even thank you.
And you’ll be living the dream of possessing a humble connection to your Creator, instead of letting your ego remain large and in charge. Too much challah dough? No such thing. Too much ego? Yup.
New York Times bestselling author and ghostwriter Michael Levin runs www.MeaningBooks.com and www.JewishLeadersBooks.com.