Parshat Bo: The Matzah Paradox

January 23, 2026

Exodus 12:39

וַיֹּאפ֨וּ אֶת־הַבָּצֵ֜ק אֲשֶׁ֨ר הוֹצִ֧יאוּ מִמִּצְרַ֛יִם עֻגֹ֥ת מַצּ֖וֹת כִּ֣י לֹ֣א חָמֵ֑ץ כִּֽי־גֹרְשׁ֣וּ מִמִּצְרַ֗יִם וְלֹ֤א יָֽכְלוּ֙ לְהִתְמַהְמֵ֔הַּ וְגַם־צֵדָ֖ה לֹא־עָשׂ֥וּ לָהֶֽם׃

And they baked unleavened cakes of the dough that they had taken out of Egypt, for it was not leavened, since they had been driven out of Egypt and could not delay; nor had they prepared any provisions for themselves.

---

There is a paradox when it comes to matza. At the Passover seder, it is described as both the bread of affliction and the bread of our liberation. How can one food represent two such opposite experiences? When we taste matzah, are we meant to feel the bitterness of slavery in Egypt, or the joy of freedom? The answer is, of course, both.

The root of this paradox lies in the origin of matza  itself. The matza dough was prepared while we were still slaves, kneaded with the hands of an enslaved people, formed in a state of oppression and uncertainty. Yet it was baked and eaten only after we had already been freed from bondage. Cooking the matzah was the first act reported in the Torah done by the Israelites after leaving their homes, making it the first act of the newly liberated nation.

We repeat at our seders that we were slaves in Egypt, and God freed us with a mighty hand. That is the essential message of the Passover story, and that essence, both aspects, are baked into the matzah. It was kneaded in slavery, but cooked in freedom, and eaten for generations to remember that moment of transformation. Matza captures the precise moment between who we were and who we became.  In this way, the bread of affliction is the bread of liberation, preserving the memory of our oppression and hardship, while affirming the miracle of our freedom.