Friday, November 21, 2014

Toldot -- 5775


There are no coincidences in Torah.  In fact, encountering the unexpected in a passage is often a clue that there’s a profound truth to be mined.  Textual oddities are windows into the mystery of the Torah.
The story of Jacob, Esau and the stew, from this week’s portion, Tol’dot, is a familiar one.  After a long day at the hunt, Esau, manly man that he is, returns to camp empty handed.  Ravenous, he asks his domesticated brother for a bowl of lentils.  “I’m famished; let me gulp down some of that red stuff!”  (Genesis 25:30).  Jacob seizes the opportunity, and trades his twin brother (elder by a hair) a bowl of soup for the birthright.
Rashi sees wickedness in Esau’s easy dismissal of his inheritance.  Others fault him for imagining himself so close to death.  But I find myself disappointed in Jacob who took advantage of his brother’s weakness, bargaining hard instead of feeding the hungry.
What if each of us looked out for our own interests only and ignored our brothers’ and sisters’ needs?  I believe the Torah answers this question with the verse that immediately follows the episode of the stew:  “There was a famine in the land” (Genesis 26:1).
While most readers see this stark, ominous statement as an introduction to the subsequent story—the famine causes Isaac to emigrate in search of food— I read it as a bridge between the two episodes:  famine is not only the cause of the journey, but also the logical result when one man’s selfish actions are repeated many times over.  It cannot be coincidence that the Torah follows a story about stinginess with food with the verse “there was a famine in the land.”  Famine occurs when we refuse to share our bounty with those in need.
What a gap there is in our world between those with access to food and those lacking basic nutrition.  Some 805 million people in the world do not have enough food to lead a healthy active life. That's about one in nine people on earth,” says the World Food Program.  Some on our planet have little reliable access to food and others experience “food insecurity,” where their access to quality nutrition is unstable and/or insufficient, while the world’s wealthy enjoy unprecedented access to a wide range of food.  How often have you and I stood in the aisle of a grocery store deciding which cheese to buy while a billion people go hungry?
We have a moral obligation to assist those without access to nutritious food.  There are lasting solutions to the problem.  Globally, microcredit facilities work:  (relatively) tiny loans enable poor families to support themselves over the long term.  Visit www.kiva.org, a website through which individuals can make loans to aspiring entrepreneurs with small businesses in the developing world.  How exciting to be able to make such a powerful difference in the life of a family and community!
There is a “Jewish Response to Hunger”:  Mazon.  Jews and Jewish organizations of all kinds donate 3% of the cost of simchas, and the money is pooled to support life-changing projects in local communities and in Israel.  It’s a wonderful way to enact Jewish values, and develop a collective sense of Jewish Peoplehood.  More information is found at mazon.org.  Why not set an empty chair when you throw or attend a dinner party or Shabbat meal—that is, donate the cost of one meal to a local organization combating hunger and food insecurity?
Learn more about Global Hunger through the American Jewish World Service website:  ajws.org/reversehunger, and take their Hunger Quiz.
The ideas, resources and expertise exist to feed our planet—if only each one of us would share what’s in our bowl.

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