Among the details of the sacrifices prescribed in Parashat Tzav there is point of connection point with the upcoming Passover holiday: matza.
The instructions related to the minha offering, which consists primarily of semolina flour, state: “What is left of it shall be eaten by Aaron and his sons; it shall be eaten as unleavened cakes, in the sacred precinct; they shall eat it in the enclosure of the Tent of Meeting. It shall not be baked with leaven; I have given it as their portion from My offerings by fire; it is most holy, like the purgation offering and the reparation offering” (Leviticus 6:9-10). The prohibition of leaven applies to all sacrifices except for two cases in which it is explicitly stated that leavened bread must be brought: on Shavuot (Lev. 23:17) and thanksgiving offerings (Lev 7:12-15). Even in these cases, the leavened bread was brought to the Temple but not placed on the altar.
Why is leavened bread unsuitable of being offered on the altar? First of all, I categorically reject the line of thought that compares leaven, “the residue of dough” to the evil inclination. The origin of this idea is apparently in the fact that until yeast was marketed as a separate product, in approximately 1870, all bread was sourdough bread that was leavened by a starter, a piece of dough saved from the previous batch. But that dough is not dirty, rather it is a prime medium for growing one of the wonders of nature: natural yeast.[1] If you add it (or its cousin, industrial yeast) to a mixture of flour and water (and preferably salt), you can produce a wide variety of breads. This requires knowledge, experience, talent and time. You can also add creativity and love.
Matza is the opposite. Baking halachic matza for Passover is subject to many limitations and conditions, but in principle, baking unleavened bread is a quick and simple process. Compared to baking leavened bread, it can also be seen as a process that was cut-off in the middle.[2]
And that’s exactly the point.
Most offerings are meant to express the person’s dependence on God. In relationship to God, every person is always a “work in progress.” Therefore, it is appropriate for the offering to be somehow incomplete. This is even more true of Passover, which takes us back to the beginning of our journey as a people. The newborn people is consumes the simplest bread, just as we feed infants semolina porridge.[3]
How are the Shavuot and thanksgiving offerings different?
These are moments when a person experiences, even if only for a limited time, a completed process. In the Torah, Shavuot marks the beginning of the season in which the farmers of the Land of Israel brought Bikkurim, first fruits, to the Temple. In the ripe fruit, human labor brings the potential of creation to fruition; therefore, it is appropriate for offering to include leavened bread, which combines ingredients from nature with human knowledge and effort.
The thanksgiving offering was also brought to mark the end of a process, one in which a person was rescued from a life-threatening situation. The thanksgiving sacrifice includes three types of bread: matzah, unleavened flatbread, and a loaf of fully risen bread. Together, they symbolize the journey from fear and despair to rescue and life. On this journey, it can be said that God has helped a person fully realize the potential of their efforts.
From this perspective, the first fruits and thanksgiving offering reflect each other. Both are intended to express the gratitude a person feels when a process has been successfully completed. Therefore, it is appropriate that they include leavened bread.
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[1] See also Shoshana Michael Zucker, “The Wonder of Bread Baking”
[2] This idea is developed at greater length by Rabbi Yoel Bin-Nun in Hebrew, with an abridged English version
[3] For the relationship between feeding simple food to infants and the initial break with Egyptian culture, see Shoshana Michael Zucker, “Parashat Tetzaveh 5781: A Basket of Matzah.”
