It is no surprise to anyone that Pesach presents obligations that start long before the holiday itself does. However, it is not only the extensive household preparations, cooking, and cleaning that demand attention, but the 24-hour period before the seder specifically contains many halakhic regulations. As the seder nears, there is an additional ruling that is taught in the mishnah (Pesachim 99b): "On the Eve of Passover, adjacent to minchah time, a person may not eat until dark."
According to two major commentaries on the spot, Rashi and his grandson the Rashbam, this prohibition on eating is to preserve one's appetite for the eating of matzah, thus guaranteeing a hiddur mitzvah, a "beautification of the mitzvah," which is in general a Talmudic mandate (see Shabbat 135a).
However, it is far from obvious that eating matzah with a stronger appetite fits into the category of "hiddur mitzvah." There is a debate among the commentaries as to the parameters of "hiddur mitzvah," with some understanding that it refers only to the usage of physically beautiful objects in the practice of mitzvot, thus eliciting the admiration of onlookers and in turn enhancing the glory of God. To say, however, that hiddur mitzvah includes the performance of a mitzvah with maximal enthusiasm -- an enthusiasm that is likely imperceptible to anyone other than the individual himself -- adds a new layer of interpretation to the concept.
Indeed, this question was the subject of a correspondence between the Sochachover Rebbe, R. Avraham Bornstein, author of the Avnei Nezer, and his student R. Yoav Yehoshua Weingarten, author of the Chelkat Yoav. The Avnei Nezer (Responsa, Orach Chaim 433; also printed in the introduction to Resp. Chelkat Yoav) asserted that while hiddur is indeed generally a reference to aesthetically pleasing objects, there is another type as well, one in which a mitzvah action of a certain type is strengthened. In this case, the mitzvah is the act of eating, and as appetite strengthens that activity, it is considered a hiddur of that mitzvah. (Compare also Moadim UZemanim, III, 241. R. Eliyahu Baruch Finkel, MiShulchan R. Eliyahu Baruch, p. 5, suggests that the enthusiasm generated by the appetite emphasizes the theme of "cherut" in the fulfillment of the mitzvah of matzah.)
The notion that there is a value in cultivating a greater enthusiasm for the consumption of matzah is supported by a statement later on (107b) that Rava would drink wine on the Eve of Passover in order to stimulate his appetite. While some later authors (see Mikra'ei Kodesh, Pesach II, 46; Avnei Nezer, O.C. 448:7; Resp. Eretz Tzvi, Siach HaSadeh 4, p. 33) drew from this the conclusion that there is a value to consuming greater amounts of matzah than that which is mandated, others argue that this passage only involves the qualitative focus on the required amount (see Rif, 23a).
However, a statement on that same page actually undermines the above reasoning as the explanation for the prohibition of eating on the Eve of Passover, by providing a different reason. The Talmud there explains that the concern is that of achilah gasah, of becoming full in a manner that would interfere with fulfilling the mitzvah of matzah. Apparently, the concern is that any eating done after the point of satiety would not constitute "eating" in the halakhic definition, making the fulfillment of matzah an impossibility. Accordingly, this reason is adopted by the Ran, as well as Rabbenu David, who states that the Rashbam's interpretation is thus incorrect.
In fact, both interpretations are somewhat surprising. In general, as the Pri Megadim observes, rabbinic prohibitions are enacted only to protect Torah prohibitions, and not positive commandments. In this case, it would seem that the prohibition of eating on erev Pesach is protecting a positive commandment of eating matzah, and according to Rashi and the Rashbam, it is not even for the mitzvah itself but for an enhancement of the mitzvah.
Rav Avraham Yitzchak HaKohen Kook (see Tov Ro'ei to Pesachim) derives from this case that the Pri Megadim is incorrect, and rabbinic enactments can be formulated for positive mitzvot. Even if that is so, this example is nonetheless a rare occurrence and is noteworthy.
To understand this prohibition further, it may be instructive to consider an additional prohibition that may or may not share its reasoning. Tosafot (Pesachim 99b s.v. lo yochal) records, in the name of the Talmud Yerushalmi, a prohibition against eating matzah on Erev Pesach. Rishonim differ as to the reason for this; according to some, such as the Rokeach and the Behag, it can be traced to verses in the Torah limiting the consumption of matzah or the korban Pesach to the nighttime. The Meiri, and a number of other rishonim, understand this as a means to protect the appetite for matzah that evening, thus apparently seeing this as an extension of the general avoidance of eating that will go into effect later in the day.
Maimonides (Hilkhot Chametz U'Matzah 6:12) understands this concept differently, explaining that matzah must be avoided on erev Pesach so that the eating of matzah that evening will be distinct and clear (hekker) as a mitzvah. It is instructive to connect this to the view cited by the Rama (O.C. 471:2), that this prohibition applies to children only once they reach the age of understanding the story of yetziat Mitzrayim that is related Pesach night. This is surprising; one would assume that it is only necessary to appreciate the eating of matzah itself. Taken together, these views suggest that matzah may not be eaten on the eve of Passover in order to highlight the role the consumption of matzah has in teaching the story of the exodus from Egypt.
As such, Rav Shlomo Cynamon suggests (Eish Tamid to Lev., p. 444) that we can understand why the Rabbis made an enactment to preserve one's appetite as Pesach approaches. The more one is eager to eat the matzah, the more he is emotionally connected to the Exodus experience, and the more complete his fulfillment of the imperative to place himself within that historical perspective.
If so, perhaps the two reasons found in rishonim not to eat on the afternoon of the eve of Passover can be understood as essentially the same idea. While some understood the concern of "achilah gasah" as did the Ran and Rabbenu David, to refer to one who is so overfull that eating is off-putting and thus halakhically meaningless, the Tosafot draw a distinction between two types of achilah gasah. They note a less extreme version, in which eating is still imaginable, but the enthusiasm for added food would be absent. If this is the achilah gasah relevant in this case, the concern is not materially different from that of Rashi and the Rashbam. The focus of both interpretations would be to enhance the experience of consuming matzah and thus root it more firmly in its role as a story-telling tool.
In this light, we can also consider the unusual situation of a rabbinic enactment to protect this positive mitzvah of matzah. It is possible to question the significance of matzah on Pesach. There is much written in the rabbinic literature about the negative imagery of chametz, leading the Radbaz (see Responsa, III, 977, and Metzudat David, mitzvah 107) to suggest that chametz really should have been forbidden all year round. Accordingly, matzah on Pesach could have been perceived as simply the non-chametz option for a meal; even the affirmative obligation to eat it might only be an active display of disdain for chametz. However, matzah is more than that; it was integrated into the experience of yetziat Mitzrayim, and we eat it on Pesach night to transport ourselves into that context. Insisting that we not only eat matzah dutifully, but with gusto and enthusiasm, underscores the positive message that matzah contains.
According to the Beit HaLevi (Parashat Bo), while matzah is a commemorative mitzvah, seemingly only meaningful after the event of yetziat Mitzrayim, in fact it was always a part of the Torah's framework (for example, Lot served matzah to his guests long before the Jews were enslaved in Egypt). God orchestrated the events of yetziat Mitzrayim in a way that incorporated matzah in a meaningful way that reinforced our connection to a mitzvah that was inherently significant.
There are many aspects to the symbolism of matzah, but one possible element is the assertion of control over one's circumstances; not allowing the effects of time to overtake and "leaven." The Jews who left Egypt were not simply liberated from bondage, but were transformed from powerless slaves controlled by their circumstances to agents who could assert control over their time and make it meaningful, a point Rav Soloveitchik noted in the significance of the first mitzvah to the Jewish people being the directive of "HaChodesh Hazeh Lachem." It is noteworthy as well that the general imperative of not allowing mitzvot to be neglected is derived rabbinically from the language of "u'shmartem et hamatzot" -- understood as, ein machmitzin et hamitzvot (see Pachad Yitzchak, Pesach ma'amar 1).
Matzah plays a crucial role in ensuring that Pesach is not only about running away from slavery, but about marching toward God and his Torah. Matzah is not only the absence of chametz, with all of its negative imagery, but it is a symbol of initiative and attention that was proactively inserted by Providence into the moment of our liberation from slavery to man and our availability for service to God.
A close attention to Maimonides' formulation of the eve of Passover restrictions reveals that there are actually three aspects. First, as noted above, is the prohibition of eating matzah, to distinguish the mitzvah that will come later. After that, he mentions the general avoidance of eating too much in the afternoon, so that one will have a strong appetite (similar to the phrasing of Rashi and the Rashbam). Third, he notes that the early chachamim would go farther, completely abstaining from food on erev Pesach, for the sake of extra endearment, "chavivut."
Is this last element, chavivut, just one more degree of attention to matzah, or is it perhaps a broader statement of relationship to the Torah as a whole? In some texts, Maimonides' language is rendered, "V'yiheyu matzot chavivin alav" -- the matzot should be endeared to him. However, in other texts, such as the Shabsi Frankel edition, the language is "V'yiheyu mitzvot chavivin alav" -- the mitzvot, in their totality, should be endeared to him.
The Avnei Nezer was one of the authorities noted above who recommended eating more matzah than is mandated. However, in his responsum, it is clear that he understands this as a value for mitzvot overall, as an expression of passion for God's service; the inverse of the stricture against packaging mitzvot together (ein osin mitzvot chavilot chavilot), which implies the mitzvot are a burden. Accordingly, he applies this value to other mitzvot, such as shofar and lulav. Nonetheless, the source for this value is found in Rava's eve of Passover efforts to cultivate his appetite.
If this is the case, the points converge: on the eve of Passover we are striving to display a comprehensive excitement for all mitzvot, while at the same time this is a Pesach-specific goal, intertwined with the commemoration of yetziat Mitzrayim. And indeed, this was the case at that moment in time. The Torah tells us (Ex. 12:34) that the Jews carried the unleavened bread "on their shoulders." Rashi notes that although they could have had their animals carry the load, they wanted to display their affection for what they were carrying: "mechav'vim hayu et hamitzvah." The Mechilta, Rashi's source, has the language "shehayu mechav'vin et ha-mitzvot." At this crucial moment of liberation, not only is matzah present, but a theme of passion for the totality of mitzvot is manifest.
The mishnah that teaches about preserving the enthusiasm for matzah ends with a directive about the four cups, ruling that even one who depends upon communal sustenance for his meals must not be provided with any less than needed to obtain four cups of wine. The Rashbam, commenting on that line, notes the rabbinic statement that the four cups parallel the four expressions of redemption (leshonot ge'ulah) the Torah uses to describe yetziat Mitzrayim (Shemot 6:6-7).
Some later works question why the Rashbam includes that point here, in this specific ruling. Perhaps it is simply the first opportunity to explain the message of the four cups; or perhaps he is emphasizing that as a tool of pirsumei nisa, the obligation of the cups requires the added effort of seeking charitable assistance to guarantee its fulfillment (see R. Uziel Yakobovitz, Birkat Moadecha, #149).
The Torah Temimah raises a different objection to the language of the Rashbam, and of other rishonim. He asserts that their reference to "leshonot ge'ulah" is a deviation from the original source, the Talmud Yerushalmi. There, the language is of four ge'ulot, rather than four expressions of ge'ulah. He insists this is an important distinction: the four cups are not merely a linguistic marker, they evoke four distinct stages of redemption, each one crucial to remember.
My grandfather, R. Moses J. Feldman, in his commentary Meshivat Nefesh, argued that this should not be leveled as a criticism against the rishonim. He brings an array of sources from Scripture, Midrash, and rishonim to prove that this is indeed what they mean to say and what the Yerushalmi is saying: the Torah uses multiple expressions specifically because there are distinct redemptions, and all must be acknowledged.
Perhaps this is the intent of the Rashbam's comment on the mishnah as well. We are taught that the needy must not be deprived of this mitzvah; not only should he be able to purchase wine, but "lo yifsechu lo mi'daled kosot." He must not have fewer than all four cups. The commemoration begins with "I will take you out of the burdens of Egypt," but it must make it all the way to "And I will take you to Me for a people, and I will be to you a God."
Thus, the mishnah closes as it begins, reminding us that yetziat Mitzrayim was not only an escape from Pharaoh, just as matzah is not only the avoidance of chametz. To remember what we are marching toward, and the excitement with which we push forward, is why we were redeemed in the first place, and it is what will forever reconnect us to that moment outside of time.
