The Essence of Gratitude, Community, and Freedom

Throughout my life, and through my years of teaching, I have encountered many who feel bored by the weekly parshiot that relate the laws of sacrificial offerings. They seem esoteric in detail and outdated. Unrelatable. I never felt that way, even as a precocious teenager looking for causes and points to argue. I have always seen these wonderful parshiot as deep poetry, meant to be understood on both a practical level – for when sacrifices were offered and will once again, someday soon, be offered – and on a metaphoric and metaphysic level – what can we glean? What deep insight and profound truth must be locked in these words and in these rituals that make them timeless and relevant?

In Parshat Tzav, we encounter the deeply meaningful laws of the korban todah, the thanksgiving offering. What captures my heart most about this korban is the requirement that it be fully consumed by the end of the night, coupled with its abundant size—forty loaves, both chametz and matzah. This combination naturally compels one to gather with friends, family, and community, transforming a personal gesture of gratitude, a private moment of reflection, into a collective celebration and public inspiration for many, a true seudat hoda’ah.

It’s remarkable to note the striking similarity to the korban Pesach, prepared for the Pesach seder and reenacted in our homes each year. Both sacrifices share the powerful theme of communal gathering around a meal, bound by time constraints that encourage connection and togetherness. It is noteworthy that the korban todah we describe in Tzav includes both chametz loaves and matzot. This mixture could symbolize the complexity and duality inherent in our human experience—yezter harah alongside yetzer tov, imperfection alongside purity, struggle alongside joy. In contrast, the korban Pesach calls only for matzah, and yet our sages of blessed memory teach us that this matzah is simultaneously the bread of affliction and the bread of freedom – struggle alongside joy in one delicious (I love the taste of sh’murah matzah) bite.

This contrast beautifully clarifies an enigmatic line in the Mah Nishtanah, which we recite at every seder: “On all other nights we eat chametz and matzah, on this night only matzah.” Some haggadot mistakenly interpret the phrase as “chametz or matzah,” obscuring its deeper meaning. However, framed through the lens of the korban todah, the question becomes profoundly insightful: Why is this offering, which resembles a korban todah in so many ways, accompanied solely by matzah, unlike all other thanksgiving offerings?

The answer lies in understanding Pesach as a moment of not just giving thanks, or even in giving thanks publicly. Rather, it takes communal gratitude a step farther. It demonstrates the depth communal gratitude and inspiration can achieve—internalizing and inspiring a sense of freedom. Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik zt”l eloquently reflects on the communal nature of the korban Pesach:

“Interestingly, the symbol of redemption in the Torah is the korban Pesach, the paschal offering… The concept of chaburah, community, is completely nonexistent in regard to other offerings… The Pesach offering differs from all other sacrifices because it is a symbol of cherus, freedom. The Torah calls the paschal lamb ‘a lamb for each parental home, a lamb for each household’ because freedom expresses itself in the realm of bayis, of community, of being together.” (Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik, Festival of Freedom)

The Rav’s insight deepens our understanding that communal gathering and gratitude are not merely expressions of thankfulness; they embody acts of redemption. By emphasizing that freedom inherently lives within community, Rabbi Soloveitchik teaches us that the collective expressions of gratitude and inspiration we share at our tables have the power to liberate us. Communal gratitude transforms into a powerful act of redemption precisely because it transforms personal appreciation into shared strength, empowering us to overcome adversity and experience a profound sense of freedom.

This resonates even more powerfully in these challenging times. The Jewish people have always drawn strength from communal bonds—gathering together, sharing stories of resilience, and celebrating collective miracles even amid uncertainty. The joy alongside tears we experience when proclaiming “We will dance again,” and our profound gratitude for our brothers and sisters, our children and graduates, our courageous chayalim and chayalot—we must experience and feel every miracle each time they dress in their uniforms. Every moment of communal gratitude births our sense of freedom from our oppressors. Just as our ancestors drew close in moments of joy and uncertainty, we too must nurture bonds of community, deepen our friendships, and celebrate our shared triumphs.

As Pesach approaches, may we embrace these timeless lessons—cherishing moments of gratitude, togetherness, and redemption renewed—and carry forward the spirit of resilience and hope that defines us as a people.

We shall dance again. Am Yisrael chai.

Chag kasher v’sameach!