Broken bread waits on our table. The whole is already broken. Everything whole in the world has an edge where it broke off something or was cut away. The bread we are about to break is already broken. This Passover night, time is cracking open. Wholeness is not the egg: it’s the tap tap tap of the wet-winged baby bird trying to get out.

Break the bread at the feast of liberation. Go ahead. Do it. The whole is already broken, and so are you. Freedom has to have its jagged edges. But keep half for later – because this story isn’t whole, and it isn’t over.

Adapted from R. Jill Hammer

haggadah Section: Yachatz
Source: Velveteen Haggadah