As we prepare for Pesach and remove chametz from our homes, Parshas Tzav presents us with a striking paradox. The Torah’s central offering of gratitude – the Korban Todah – is brought not with matzah alone, but with both chametz and matzah: “al challos lechem chametz yakriv korbano.”
At the very moment we are eliminating chametz from our lives, the Torah tells us that true thanksgiving requires it.
And for many of us, we are encountering the Todah not only in the weekly parshah, but in Daf Yomi as well. These very sugyos – the structure of the Todah, its 40 loaves, the balance between chametz and matzah – are being learned right now, giving this idea a second point of entry: not only through the parshah, but through the daily rhythm of learning.
For anyone preparing for Pesach, this combination is almost jarring. The very substance we are about to eliminate so carefully becomes part of the Torah’s central expression of gratitude.
But that tension is not incidental – it is the message.
In fact, the Korban Todah is one of only two offerings in the entire Mikdash service that include chametz (the other being the shtei ha’lechem of Shavuos). Otherwise, the Beis HaMikdash is, in a sense, “Kasher L’Pesach” all year long; chametz is absolutely forbidden.
That makes the Todah all the more unusual. Here, chametz is not excluded; it is required.
Chazal define the context of the Todah with precision. The Gemara teaches that four categories of people are obligated to give thanks: one who crosses the sea, one who travels through the desert, one who recovers from illness, and one who is released from imprisonment. These are not routine experiences. They are moments of real danger followed by real deliverance.
In the time of the Beis HaMikdash, such a person would bring a korban todah. Today, in its absence, that obligation is expressed through Birkas HaGomel, recited publicly after being saved from danger.
We thank Hashem constantly: in Modim within every Amidah. But HaGomel, like the Todah, is something more focused: a response to extraordinary danger and deliverance, to having passed through something that could have ended very differently.
Rav Samson Raphael Hirsch explains that chametz and matzah represent two simultaneous dimensions of the human condition.
Chametz expresses the human being as he stands in the world – with expansion, capability, and a sense of independence, particularly after having been restrained by hardship. The dough rises; it takes on presence. It reflects a person who has emerged from constraint and now stands with stability and strength.
Matzah, by contrast, expresses the human being as he stands before Hashem: without expansion, without illusion, fully aware that everything he has is given. It is the bread of dependence, clarity, and humility.
The Korban Todah does not ask us to choose between these perspectives. It insists that we hold both at once.
This is not only an idea; it is built into the halachic structure of the offering itself. Although there are more matzah loaves than chametz loaves, the total amount of flour used for each is equal. The forms differ, but the substance is the same.
Because if one’s sense of independence outweighs one’s awareness of dependence, gratitude becomes arrogance. And if one’s awareness of dependence erases one’s sense of human dignity and strength, then one has not fully grasped the gift that Hashem has given.
True Todah lives in that tension.
I am capable – and I am completely reliant.
I act – and I am carried.
Pesach and What Comes After
This sheds light on the timing of Parshas Tzav just before Pesach. For one week, chametz disappears entirely, and we live only with matzah, immersing ourselves in the foundational truth that everything comes from Hashem.
But Pesach is not meant to eliminate chametz permanently. It is meant to recalibrate it.
When chametz returns, it is meant to return differently – not as ego, but as responsibility – not as independence detached from Hashem, but as independence infused with awareness.
The Korban Todah teaches us how to live that balance.
A Todah for Our Time
It is difficult not to feel how deeply this speaks to the reality we are living through now in Israel.
On the one hand, we are witnessing something extraordinary. Thousands of missiles have been launched toward us – from Iran, from Hezbollah in Lebanon – and the relatively low level of destruction is astonishing. Again and again, we sense that we are being protected in ways that are hard to fully explain.
On the other hand, we are not living in a time of complete safety. Missiles do get through. This week in Arad and Dimona there were injuries and significant damage. Recently, in Beit Shemesh, lives were lost. The vulnerability is real, immediate, and painful.
And so we find ourselves holding two realities at once.
We feel strength, resilience, capability – the reality of chametz.
And we feel dependence, fragility, and the need for divine protection – the reality of matzah.
This is not a contradiction. It is the lived experience of Todah.
Living the Todah
Without a Beis HaMikdash, we do not bring a korban todah. But we still respond.
We say Birkas HaGomel when we are saved from danger, just as Chazal established. And in recent weeks, many have taken upon themselves small but meaningful acts of gratitude – saying Mizmor l’Sodah after a warning siren ends without impact. In our own home, as well, this has become a quiet but powerful response: not just relief, but acknowledgment.
Not just exhaling – but recognizing.
Toward Pesach
As we enter Pesach, we step into a world of pure matzah, a week that strips away illusion and reminds us with clarity where everything comes from.
And when chametz returns, we are meant to return with it – differently: to act, to build, to stand strong in the world, while knowing with complete clarity:
Our strength is real – but it is given to us from Above.
Our independence is real – but it is divinely sustained.
And holding these two truths together – fully, honestly, and at the same time – is itself our Todah.
Have a happy, safe, and kosher Pesach!
Rabbi Yehuda L. Oppenheimer, former rav at several congregations in the United States, lives in Israel and is an educator, writer, and licensed tour guide. He eagerly looks forward to showing you our wonderful land on your next visit. He blogs at libibamizrach.blogspot.com and can be reached at This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it. or voice/WhatsApp at 053-624-1802.
