A Jew’s Lament on the Commercialization of Passover

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Sometimes when I think about Passover I get frustrated. Like many holidays observed by the world’s popular religions, Passover has become prone to the powers of widespread commercialization. What was meant to be a week-long remembrance of the Hebrews’ exodus from slavery in ancient Egypt has transformed into a competition whose focus lies on finding the best kosher-for-Passover treats. As you can already guess, my qualms with Passover begin with the evasion we call “keeping kosher-for-Passover,” and the frenzy of media and commercial outlets appealing to, and profiting off of, this ritual tradition. Historically, keeping kosher-for-Passover meant not eating breads and other foods that have been leavened, or had time to rise in the oven. As the story from the Old Testament tells us, the Hebrews did not have enough time to wait for their bread to rise when leaving Egypt. So because the Hebrews did not wait for their bread to rise, Jews today keep the tradition of not eating bread and other leavened foods to pay spiritual tribute to our enslaved forefathers.

However, what frustrates me about this tradition is the wide availability of kosher-for Passover breads, cookies, cakes and other treats that, for all intents and purposes, are plain leavened foods. It seems the secret to keeping Passover isn’t about substituting your bread for matzoh, but about keeping up your normal eating habits by finding evasive ways of substituting standard leavened products with the commercialized kosher-for-Passover version. Companies like Manischewitz undoubtedly widen their belts around the Passover season, simply because of how many Jews look to their kosher-for-Passover options to alleviate the burden of cutting out leavened carbohydrates from their diets. Rather than use regular leavening agents like baking soda, baking powder or yeast, kosher- for-Passover foods rise from the proteins in egg whites, carbonation from seltzers, and other alternative leavening ingredients to provide the cakey, fluffy consistency that matzoh leaves us craving.

But it seems this craving is what we are sacrificing by cutting out all leavened breads from our diets during the observance of Passover. When we say that all we’re sacrificing for our enslaved ancestors is the satisfaction of leavened carbohydrates it certainly doesn’t seem like much. This week-long sacrifice we Jews make, in fact, is the least we could do to pay respect to our shackled forefathers. So why do we find ways to evade our responsibility rather than embrace it? On the one hand, Passover is a holiday to remember our past, where we came from and our family traditions. On the other hand, if your family’s Passover celebrations have unraveled into feasting on decadent kosher-for-Passover cupcakes with cream cheese frosting and chocolate chips, what are you to do? Do you reject your family’s tradition of eating elaborate alternatively-leavened food options, or indulge in something your enslaved ancestors certainly would not have waited to let bake when quickly running from their Egyptian overlords?

I don’t have the exact answer, and I wouldn’t trust anyone who says he does. But what I hope to communicate is that oftentimes we forget why we do what we do. In arenas as influential and dogmatic as religion, the meaning of tradition becomes lost in arbitrary rhetoric the moment we start to blindly follow laws and orders without asking the pivotal question of why. •