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    EVERY LAST CRUMB

    The Large Hadron
    Collider (LHC) is the
    world’s largest and
    most powerful
    particle accelerator.
    The circumference of
    the collider is 16.565
    miles, and it contains
    thousands of magnets. It was built in
    collaboration from over 10,000 scientists
    and hundreds of universities as well as
    more than 100 countries and it cost $4.75
    billion.
    In 2009, the collider overheated and
    shut down. Scientists were perplexed and
    investigated what went wrong. The
    problem was found at a compensating
    capacitor, one of the points where the
    mains electricity supply enters the
    collider from above ground. Sitting there
    was a bird munching on a baguette. It
    turns out a crumb had fallen into the
    collider causing the overheating. 10,000
    scientists and $5 billion dollars couldn’t
    stop the impact of one crumb.
    The power and potency of a crumb is at
    the core of Pesach. The Talmud
    (Pesachim 29b) tells us chametz is
    forbidden in the smallest quantities, and
    that while in many cases with prohibited
    food we apply the concept of “bittul” –
    nullification of a small amount amidst a
    much larger amount – when it comes to
    chametz, one crumb is not nullified, even
    in a thousand parts.
    The Meor Einayim (Tzav), Rav
    Menachem Nochum of Chernobyl,
    points out that the letters in the words
    “chametz” and “matzah” are almost
    exactly the same. The mem and tzadi are
    in both words, the only difference is that
    Chametz has a ches, and Matzah has a
    hay. The only difference between those
    two letters, a hay – ה – and a ches – ח– ,
    is a tiny little line, a speck of ink. That
    mashehu of a line seems so insignificant,
    so seemingly inconsequential it is easy to
    dismiss. But the truth is that mashehu is
    what makes all the difference between
    the words chametz, or matza.
    Says the Meor Einayim, the yetzer hara
    works not by convincing us to violate a
    major boundary or commit an egregious
    mistake. It works perniciously by telling
    us that something is only a mashehu, it’s
    tiny, insignificant, what difference does it
    make? What does it matter if you come a
    bit late to shul or schmooze a little during
    davening? Does Hashem really care if a
    mashehu of what you declare as a
    business expense aren’t really? Is a
    mashehu of lashon hara really going to

    hurt anyone?
    Slowly, those small things add up until a
    person doesn’t recognize himself
    anymore. On Pesach, chametz is assur
    b’mashehu to teach us how important
    everything, even what seems so small,
    truly is. One crumb can bring a $5 billion
    dollar machine to a grinding halt, and
    one crumb of yetzer hara can corrupt an
    invaluable neshama.
    The Be’er Heitev in his commentary on
    Shulchan Aruch quotes the Arizal who
    says that a person who is careful about a
    mashehu, a negligible amount of chametz
    on Pesach, is guaranteed not to make a
    mistake the whole year.
    I don’t read this statement as a
    metaphysical promise as much as a
    strategy for change. If over Pesach you
    can learn to be disciplined even about the
    “mashehu”s of life, if we can learn not to
    dismiss or minimize the small things, we
    will live our most disciplined selves.
    Don’t underestimate the impact of a
    crumb. One mashehu, a drop of ink, is
    the difference between a hay of matzah
    and a ches of chametz. Don’t let the
    yetzer hara convince you not to care
    about the mashehu.
    But maybe the message of Pesach is not
    only the danger and damage of even a
    crumb, a mashehu. If a mashehu matters,
    if it can make all the difference, then isn’t
    it true that a mashehu of a mitzvah or of
    a good thing also matters, it means
    something, it makes a difference. The
    meaning of mashehu works in both
    directions.

    The typical approach to self-
    improvement or changing habits is to set

    a large goal, then try to take big leaps to
    accomplish the goal in as little time as
    possible. But this method often ends in
    burnout, frustration, and failure. Instead,
    focus on a mashehu at a time, continuous
    but steady, slow, incremental
    improvement.
    It is so easy to dismiss the value of
    making slightly better decisions on a
    daily basis. Making mashehu
    improvements isn’t going to make
    headlines, but it makes a difference.
    ְו ְִהִיא ֶׁשָׁעְָמְָדָה :recite we ,Haggadah the In
    ַלֲַאבֹוֵתֵינּו ְו ְָלָנּו. ֶׁשֹּׁלּא ֶאֶָחד ִּבְּלְָבָד ָעַָמד ָעֵָלֵינּו
    amad is what say Tzaddikim ְ.לְַכַּלֹוֵתֵנּו
    aleinu l’chaloseinu, what stands to
    destroy us? An attitude of she’lo echad
    bilvad, I am just one person, this is just
    one mitzvah, this is just one daf of
    Gemara, one perek of Tehillim, one

    dollar of tzedakah, one moment of
    being my best. An attitude of echad
    bilvad, it is just one thing, something
    small, inconsequential, it doesn’t
    matter, that attitude stands to destroy
    us.
    We have to realize a crumb can
    destroy, a mashehu of chametz is
    assur, but a mashehu of a mitzvah, a
    mashehu, a moment of nobility,
    righteousness, discipline,
    spirituality, moves the cosmos, can
    change the world, can change your
    life, and that of your family.
    This Pesach, as we sit at our Seder
    tables, hostages are still being held,
    soldiers are still fighting on our
    behalf. While we mark our freedom,
    some are in shackles and others are
    heroically fighting to liberate them. After
    more than six months of this war and this
    situation, fatigue can set in, and it feels
    hard to sustain the intensity of prayer,
    contributions, advocacy, and earning
    merits. Now is when it is critical to
    remember that even a mashehu, a small
    measure of effort, of caring, of prayer
    and connection matter.
    This past week, Iran launched hundreds
    of drones and missiles with the intent to
    cause severe harm and damage to our
    people and our homeland. While the
    swift and successful defense by Israel

    and its allies seemed almost matter-of-
    fact, the minimal damage caused by the

    attack was nothing short of miraculous.
    If one Iron Dome radar-guided missile is
    off by a mashehu, the attacking missile
    could cause catastrophic loss of life.
    Similarly, none of us know how much of
    Hashem’s benevolence is due to the
    merits of our own mashehu contributions,
    our small acts of learning, davening,
    kindness, and righteousness.
    A mashehu of mitzvos matters to
    Hashem and is measurable over time in
    us. Like the Jews in Egypt, many of us
    are enslaved, not to external oppressors
    but to our own habits and patterns,
    between us and Hashem, us and others,
    or even with ourselves.
    In the beginning, there is basically no
    difference between making a choice that
    is a mashehu, 1 percent better or
    mashehu, 1 percent worse. But as time
    goes on, these small improvements or
    declines compound and you suddenly
    find a very big gap between people who
    make slightly better decisions on a daily
    basis and those who don’t. In Atom
    Habits, James Clear shows that if you get

    one percent better each day for one year,
    you’ll end up thirty-seven times better by
    the time you’re done.
    In one of the most inspirational stories
    in Shas, Chazal describe how Rebbe
    Akiva was a shepherd, a laborer, an am
    ha’aretz. At age 40, he didn’t even know
    how to read the aleph-beis. One day,
    while sitting by a brook, Akiva noticed a
    steady trickle of water hitting a rock. It
    was only a drip, it was a mashehu, but it
    was constant – drop after drop after drop.
    Akiva observed something incredible: A
    hole had been carved out by that steady
    drip of water. He wondered how that
    could be. He concluded: If something as
    soft as water can carve a hole in solid
    rock, how much more so can words of
    Torah – which is hard as iron – make an
    indelible impression on my heart.
    That marked a turning point in Rebbe
    Akiva’s life. He committed himself to
    Torah study and went on to become the
    greatest sage of his generation, producing
    24,000 talmidim and later a group of
    students who were the transmitters of
    Torah Sheb’al Peh. Akiva became Rebbe
    Akiva because he noticed a mashehu of
    water and grew a mashehu at a time.
    This Yom Tov we are pledging to
    liberate ourselves from bad habits, to
    make meaningful changes. We are
    dedicated to do so in the merit that the
    matzav for our people improves, that
    miracles of salvation happen in our days.
    If you want to change the way you live,
    how you learn, daven, treat others, it isn’t
    by hoping to wake up one morning and
    being radically different.
    One crumb can shut down a collider and
    one crumb can start up your life. Make
    the decision to grow a mashehu, 1% each
    day, and by next Pesach you will be at
    least 37% better.