We think of chametz as a once-a-year headache. The search for crumbs between sofas, the forgotten stash of pretzels in a school bag, the headache of menus for six-year olds who normally subsist on a diet of cereal.

However, in this week’s parashah we learn that a requirement for the minchah (meal) offering was that it could not have any chametz! The minchah offering was a voluntary offering, the most simple and inexpensive of the offerings, consisting of just flour and oil.

Surely, when bringing such a basic offering, it would make sense to maximise the opportunity by presenting soft, fluffy, cakes? Why does the Torah specifically ban chametz from the altar in the Temple?

Many commentators discuss chametz as representative of ego. A sense of inflated importance. It makes sense that ego has no place when bringing a sacrifice before God. The very simplicity of the minchah was intentional to emphasise that a connection to Hashem is accessible to all.

Rav Yoel Bin Nun of Yeshivat Har Etzion suggests differently. Perhaps leaven bread represents fulfilment and completion of a process. It is the desired end result, compared to unleavened bread, which is in an unfulfilled state. Its potential has not been realised.

God knows our history and sees our thoughts, our failures and our weakness. In truth, on some level all of us are unfulfilled, we have not yet actualised the full power of our potential. Far from being disheartening, I find this deeply encouraging. When we free ourselves from an illusion of perfection, we can genuinely make progress. We can be honest in our self-awareness and reach clarity about where we need to improve.

When working therapeutically, I often find the expectations that clients set for themselves to be the most limiting, crippling and unforgiving. Instead of feeling motivated to do more, we are scared to slip off the pedestal.

Perhaps, by rejecting chametz in the meal offering, we affirm that we are not perfect, that we are not complete. We take ownership of our flawed humanity and acknowledge that there is always a process to complete.

On Pesach we become free from slavery. This marks the start of a journey of building ourselves as a nation. We have rid ourselves of slave masters, but now we must discover and choose who we want to be.