Bedikat Chametz Under Fire

Searching for leavened bread between sirens, shelters, and split-second halachic decisions

In between sirens, rockets, and “hostile aircrafts,” I attempted to fulfill the mitzvah of bedikat chametz—the final search for bread before Passover.

A little background: the custom is to hide ten pieces of bread throughout the house so that when we say the blessing, we are guaranteed to find something. Some sages worry that if you bless the search and find nothing, you’ve said God’s name in vain—a halachic no-no.

Usually, I’m prepared. But this year, we did such a thorough job of cleaning that I didn’t have a single crumb left to hide, so I decided to rely on the opinion of Rav Melamed: the blessing is over the search itself, and even if nothing is discovered, the blessing is valid (https://ph.yhb.org.il/en/04-04-09/).

I took out my Haggadah and started to say the blessing. Three words in, the siren went off.

At the start of the war, we only had 15 seconds to get to the nearest bomb shelter. As of this weekend, thanks to our brave soldiers, Hezbollah has been pushed back far enough north that we now have 30 seconds. With my luxurious half a minute, I did some quick thinking.

I was in the middle of a blessing. Usually, you aren’t allowed to speak from the moment you start the blessing until the search is over. If we were stuck in the shelter for an hour, I’d be stuck in silence. But I had already said the words, “Blessed are You, God...” How could I take the Name in vain? (Exodus 20:7)

The easy way out in these kinds of situations is simply to say “Baruch Shem Kevod Malchuto L’olam Va’ed” (https://outorah.org/p/45039/).

But I had another trick up my sleeve.

I did a 360-degree bracha flip, said “borei minei bisamim,” the blessing on pleasant smells, and took a whiff of the black pepper in front of me. Later, I learned this was not the correct move (see P.P.S. below).

Rest assured, all that took 5 seconds, and another 5 seconds later we were in our Mamad, the in-house bomb shelter (an essential feature of the modern Israeli home). We hunkered down for a few minutes and then emerged, ready to try again. But before we could, there were more explosions in the sky. According to my phone app, neighboring cities got the sirens, not us, but it felt like we were living on borrowed time. It was now or never. I prepared to say the blessing again and start the search.

Yet, something weighed on me. Maybe the siren was a sign. Maybe I did need to find some bread. In the least OCD way possible, I ran to my neighbor’s house and knocked.

“Do you have a little bread I could have?” I asked as he opened the door and his four children looked at me from behind their pizza.

He returned a moment later with a single frozen pita in a plastic bag.

The hour was late. I didn’t have the energy to defrost it, divide it into ten pieces, and hide them. I placed the pita on a dresser, said the blessing—this time uninterrupted—and began the search.

I’m happy to report that the frozen pita was the only chametz I found, thanks to our low-gluten lifestyle and fastidious cleaning. And that’s how Passover was saved.

P.S. I want to give a shout-out to Hashem and the Iron Dome: there were over 50 rockets and drones shot at us, and no one was killed or seriously wounded.

P.P.S. I had a suspicion that the 360-degree bracha flip was a little screwy, so I spoke with my friend, Rabbi Benjy Kwalwasser, co-founder of Yeshivat Lev HaTorah, to get his insights. He clarified for me that:

• The “Psalm Pivot”: If I had only gotten as far as “Baruch Atah Hashem...” when the siren started, the proper move wasn’t to flip to a different blessing category like smells. Instead, I should have finished the sentence with the words “Lamedeni Chukecha” (”Teach me Your statutes”). This creates a complete verse from Psalms (Tehillim 119:12), transforming an interrupted blessing into a valid prayer of praise.

• The “Apple and the Drain” Principle: He also reassured me that if a siren goes off the moment you finish a blessing, it isn’t “in vain”. Much like making a blessing over an apple only to have it fall down a drain immediately after, the blessing remains valid because the intent and obligation were there—the interruption was simply an act of God.

• Breaking the Silence: To avoid being stuck in silence in the bomb shelter, I could have performed a “minimal search” of my own pockets or the shelter itself. Commencing the search even in a small way technically fulfills the immediate requirement of the blessing, allowing you to speak freely until the “all clear” sounds.

Thanks Rav Benjy!

Rabbi Aryeh Ronay is a Spiritual Counselor (IFS Level 2) with a passion for joyful Jewish living.