Photo by Daiga Ellaby on Unsplash
Ta’anit Bechorot “Fast of First Borns”
By Emily Rogal, MHWOW Jewish Life Specialist
Of the ten plagues in the Passover story, perhaps the most gruesome of them all is the death of the first born. Ta’anit Bechorot (translated as Fast of the Firstborn) is a custom whereby Jewish males who are the first-born children of their families fast for the day of Erev Pesach.* But, why is a fast required on this day? There are a multitude of interpretations, but it is impossible for me to think about this without thinking of the destruction and violence that has occurred during and after the October 7th attacks in Israel and Palestine.
Fasting, perhaps, is a spiritual technology meant to inflict suffering on the body.** This year, even if we are not fasting (or firstborns), Ta’anit Bechorot offers us the possibility of being in solidarity with the deaths of so many Israelis and Palestinians. Marking the death of the Egyptian firstborns on the edge of the joyous holiday of Passover allows for us to reconnect with our beliefs that no human being, of any nation or creed, should suffer. It is our duty, our sacred responsibility, to make it be so. Ken yehi ratzon—may it be so.
*Different communities have different practices — some maintain that every first born should fast.
**Fasting is not recommended or accessible for all Jews (including those who suffer from medical complications or eating disorders, for example) — take care of your body and your soul!
Pesach “Passover”
By Rabbi Dave Yedid, BASE DNVR
Among the beautifully witchy things Judaism invites us to do is search our homes with a feather, wooden spoon, and paper bag, guided by the light of a beeswax candle. This is called bedikat chametz–searching for chametz–the leavening agents that bring beautiful fluff to breads, pastries, and cereal which are not traditionally eaten on Passover. Every time I do it, I giggle. I feel like a child playing hide-and-go-seek with pieces of bread intentionally scattered throughout the home, so that they can be found. Inevitably, I also find some crumbs I missed.
Bedikat chametz happens at the very end of all the deep cleaning, organizing, and preparing for Pesach. I’ve already released the neglected foods in my pantry and finished my supply of yeast baking loaves of Challah for Gentile friends and neighbors not observing Pesach. So why the charade?
The rabbis knew about Jewish neurosis. When I’m less generous toward our Sages of blessed memory, I feel they codified Jewish neurosis! Mishnah Pesachim 1:2 wonders, what if a rodent takes a bread crumb from home to a home that’s already been cleaned for Passover? The text acknowledges ein l’davar sof: there is no end to the matter. We can criticize ourselves and go the extra mile, but at the end of the day we can only do and control so much. After the candle-lit fanfare we recite, “All leaven which is in my possession, which I have neither seen nor removed, and about which I am unaware, shall be considered nullified and ownerless as the dust of the earth.”
We do this to publicly, symbolically, ritually let ourselves off the hook. It gives us permission to declare that we’ve done the best we can.
May this Passover allow us to celebrate the hard work we have done, and let that be enough.
