Getting Rid of Schmutz

I have begun cleaning the house in preparation for Passover. My grandmother might have said we were getting rid of the schmutz. This year, the process is cathartic. It’s more than Marie Kondo getting rid of clutter. I am relinquishing impurities in favor of something that feels sacred. The Passover cleaning is a time when the psychological and the theological intersect, decluttering the home and heart.

The Torah spends a seemingly inordinate amount of time describing the actions we take to achieve purity and banish impurity. There are sacrifices and rituals throughout the book of Leviticus. A heavy concentration of purity rituals comes with the need to atone for certain behaviors.

With that awareness, Passover cleaning becomes a purity ritual. I discard all that is desiccated, nasty, or past their due date. Often fuzzy or smelly items emerge from the back of the refrigerator. The impurity is in the wastefulness. Rather than enjoy the “enoughness” of what I have, I buy too much and hold onto good intentions for forgotten foods.

I became aware of how complacent we become with the impurities that remain. Yes, there are hidden cookies, and year-old chips to be discovered. Yet, I wonder why we wait for an “occasion” to dislodge the schmutz from our homes.

The lesson I’m gleaning goes beyond filling trash bags and recycling newly cleaned jars. What about cleaning the schmutz in me? Do I need the cluttered remains of resentments? Can I discard the old regrets? My revelation as I wipe down shelves in our refrigerator is that I need a ritual cleaning for my interior spaces.

With that understanding, I gained a bit more insight into the Torah. Sometimes we need a physical act to prod us to do internal work. Sacrificing a lamb for atonement may have worked in biblical times. Today, as I scrub away crumbs and wipe down countertops, I create my own ritual of renewal.

Perhaps this is why Passover comes in spring—a season of rebirth. As I clear chametz from my home, I also clear space for growth within myself. The physical act of cleaning becomes a gateway to spiritual cleansing, reminding me that freedom begins with letting go. Just as our ancestors left Egypt unburdened to begin anew, I too can release what no longer serves me.

In this sacred act of preparation, I find both connection to tradition and a pathway toward personal transformation. The ritual invites me not just to clean my home, but to examine what I truly need to carry forward into the next season of my life.

Rabbi Evan J. Krame