Pesach Special Feature
Thou Shalt Not Steal… Except for the Afikomen
For the children, one of the unforgettable moments of the Seder is when the middle matzah– the afikomen – is broken into two halves (with one piece slightly bigger than the other).
The larger piece is put to one side by the person leading the Seder, to be eaten much later on at the end of the seudah. As this is taking place, the children are on “full alert,” watching eagle-eyed to try and see where the afikomen has been left because there is a longstanding custom that whoever “steals” the afikomen only returns it after holding it for ransom for an exorbitant reward! It is a lot of fun and it definitely keeps the children engaged and full of excitement as they try to sneak the afikomen away without any of the participants at the Seder realizing what they are doing. Of course, the leader of the Seder is completely aware of what is going on and (usually) cooperates complicity with the children to let them get away with the heist. And just before the fateful moment arrives when the afikomen must be eaten, the children can then start their negotiations in the hope of “cleaning up like bandits”!
But, despite the fact that the joy of the children and their high-spiritedness adds so much to the general atmosphere around the Seder table, the whole ritual is somewhat of an anomaly. The Torah states categorically that it is forbidden to steal. There is absolutely no “wiggle room” with regards to the command. Jewish literature is replete with accounts of people ranging from the greatest Rabbis to the simplest individuals doing everything that they possibly can to avoid anything that even resembles thievery. So scrupulous were they that the Talmud (Chullin 7) relates that even the donkey of Rabbi Pinchas ben Yair would not eat from any fodder that had not been tithed, as it was akin to eating stolen food! And yet, at the Seder of all nights – the very night that is dedicated to transferring the foundations of Jewish belief from one generation to the next – we seem to be encouraging the children to steal!
Interestingly enough, at my parents’ Seder we did not steal the afikomen. Rather, our family custom was that my father would hide the afikomen and we would run around the house trying to find it. And, aside from the thrill of being the lucky one to actually find it, no one ever lost out, because my mother, being the quintessential “Yiddishe Mama,” bought presents for all of us.
My parents’ custom originated with Rabbi Meir Horowitz of Dzikov (1819-1877). In his brilliant work, Imrei Noam, he writes that in general it is correct to conceal one’s good deeds and not to publicize them. However, parents should not hide their good deeds from their children so that they can learn from them. Rabbi Horowitz writes that this idea is alluded to by breaking the middle matzah. We hide the larger half of the matzah, which implies that we should conceal the majority of our good deeds from public view. The children search for, and find, the afikomen because on the night of the Seder it is proper to reveal even the half which is usually concealed, so the children can learn from it and follow in their parents’ ways. However, when all is said and done, the prevalent custom is for the children to “steal” the afikomen.
Rabbi Elimelech Biderman, one of the most influential and sought-after spiritual mentors of our generation, asks why do we only break the middle matzah? If it is a praiseworthy thing to do then, perhaps, we should break all three of them? His answer is a key to understand why the children “steal” the afikomen at the Seder. He cites the very first of Maimonides’ Thirteen Principles of Faith, that Hashem “alone, made, makes, and will make everything.” According to Rabbi Biderman, one of the symbolisms of the three matzahs is that the top matzah represents our belief that everything that happened in the past was from Hashem. The middle matzah represents everything that is happening now is according to His will. And the bottom matzah represents our belief everything that will happen in the future is from Hashem.
He points out that, in general, it is easier to believe that what happened in the past is from Hashem. When a person looks back, they are often able to perceive and believe, retroactively, that everything was destined by Hashem. In the same way, when we look into the future it is often easy to trust that Hashem will take care of us and that things will work out for the best.
The real test, however, is the present. Often, it is hard to believe that the seemingly unpleasant things happening to us are from Hashem. Because, in the here and now, we lack the ability to see the greater picture. Therefore, it is the middle matzah that is broken – the matzah that represents the present – to instill in us the awareness that, despite the fact that we do not always perceive the “Wholeness” of Hashem’s presence in our lives, He is always with us. “All” we have to do is search for Him and we will find Him.
Perhaps that can help us understand another detail pertaining to the afikomen. The Sefat Emet (1847-1905) points out that the afikomen is referred to as “Tzafon” in the Haggadah.
The word tzafon means hidden and the Sefat Emet explains that it hints to the idea that the redemption from Egypt was only the very beginning of the process. The Final Redemption, which we so long for, is still “hidden” from us. It is up to us to try to “steal” as many miztvahs and kind deeds as we can in order to tip the balance, “allowing” Hashem to send the Mashiach and permanently end our exile. This explains why we put aside the larger half of the matzah for later. Because we still have a lot to do in order to make that happen.
And for this reason, explains Rabbi Mordechai Gifter (1915-2001), we are not supposed to eat anything at all after we have eaten the afikomen. Why we are supposed to go to sleep after the Seder with the taste of the afikomen still in our mouths, as it were. One of the spiritual foundations that the Seder is imparting to us is that we must aspire to live the mitzvahs. We remain with the taste of the afikomen in our mouths to symbolize the thought that we must continue to experience the sweetness and the delight of having performed the mitzvahs even after we have performed them. So that we understand that the inspiration and growth of this extraordinary night should remain with us and accompany us throughout the rest of the year. That the “taste” of the mitzvahs remain with us long after the actions have been done.
As we approach the upcoming Seder – with all of its foundational and unforgettable lessons – please accept my heartfelt blessing that your Seder (and mine, too) be inspirational and uplifting. That your Seder be full of enthusiasm and joy. That the children return the afikomen on time(!) and that the “taste” of the afikomen remain long after the Seder has come to an end. And may we all merit to “steal” as many mitzvahs and good deeds as possible so that we can celebrate Pesach next year together in the Holy Temple in Jerusalem.
