Can You Earn Freedom… or Does It Find You?
The surprising message hidden inside a piece of matzah, and what it means for your life today
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On the night of Passover, we lift the matzah and ask a deceptively simple question:
“This matzah that we eat — why?”
And the answer seems almost… technical:
Because the dough didn’t have time to rise.
But if you pause for a moment, something doesn’t add up.
If matzah is just a historical accident, bread that didn’t have time to rise,
then why were the Jewish people commanded to eat matzah even before leaving Egypt?
So which is it?
Is matzah a commandment…
Or a coincidence?
And deeper still:
Is freedom something we earn… or something that suddenly finds us?
The Lubavitcher Rebbe explains that there were actually two completely different experiences of matzah that night.
Before redemption unfolded, the Jewish people were still in Egypt.
Still limited.
Still constrained.
Still living within a broken reality.
And yet, they were told:
Prepare matzah. Guard it carefully. Don’t let it rise.
This matzah represents something deeply human:
Effort
Discipline
Humility
Choosing growth over comfort
Because when nothing miraculous is happening…
when life feels stuck…
when clarity is absent…
We are called to do the work anyway.
Then everything changed.
At midnight, G-d revealed Himself — not gradually, not subtly, but overwhelmingly.
And suddenly…
The dough didn’t rise! not because they guarded it,
But because it couldn’t.
There was no room for ego.
No space for delay.
No possibility for anything other than redemption.
This matzah represents something entirely different:
A breakthrough
A gift from Above
A moment that changes everything instantly
When we sit at the Seder and say:
“This matzah… is because the dough didn’t have time to rise.”
Why do we highlight the miraculous moment…
and not the effort that came before it?
After all, our lives are built on responsibility, discipline, and growth.
Shouldn’t we celebrate what we earn?
The Rebbe teaches something profound:
The matzah we eat today contains both dimensions at once.
The effort of preparation
And the gift of breakthrough
The work of the human being
And the revelation from beyond
And even more:
Our matzah is greater than theirs.
Because theirs came only from Above.
Ours comes after a year of living, struggling, choosing, growing,
and then receiving something higher.
Like the difference between:
A gift handed to you
And a gift that comes after everything you’ve been through
The second one doesn’t just arrive.
It transforms you.
The Rebbe compares this to the journey from Pesach to Shavuos.
On Pesach, the revelation came from Above — powerful, but temporary.
But through counting the Omer, through daily effort and refinement, something deeper happens:
We draw down a level of clarity and connection that is not just given —
It becomes part of who we are.
That’s why the matzah we eat today is so powerful.
It is not just the bread of redemption.
It is the bread of earned transformation meeting Divine breakthrough.
If our matzah is greater…
Why do we still describe it as something that “just happened”?
Because the Haggadah is teaching us something radical:
You are not as far from Egypt as you think.
Not as a criticism — but as a truth.
There are still parts of us that:
Feel stuck
React instead of choose
Fear instead of trust
Hold onto limitations we’ve outgrown
And so, every year, on this night, we don’t just remember redemption.
We step back into the moment before it happened.
So that we can experience it again.
When dough rises, it expands.
It inflates. It puffs up.
In Chasiddic vernacular, this represents ego, the illusion that we are self-made, independent, in control.
Matzah is the opposite.
Flat. Simple. Uninflated.
A quiet declaration:
I am open. I am ready. I am not full of myself.
And that’s exactly what allows both:
Growth through effort
And transformation through something greater
In the Haftorah of Acharon Shel Pesach, the last day of Passover, we read the prophetic passage from Isaiah 11.
A time when:
“The world will be filled with the knowledge of G-d as the waters cover the sea.”
This is not just poetry.
It is a description of a future where:
There is no confusion
No distortion
No inflated sense of self
No separation from truth
Just like the dough that couldn’t rise when G-d was revealed…
So too, in that future:
There will be no room for ego or illusion, because reality itself will be clear.
Every one of us is holding a piece of matzah.
Not just at the Seder.
But in life.
You are doing your part — building, striving, growing.
And at the same time, something greater is unfolding — often quietly, often unseen.
The question is:
Are you only relying on your effort…
Or are you open to the moment when everything can change?
Because true freedom is not just something you achieve.
It’s something you prepare for…
and then receive.