Posted on August 23, 2024 by Jay Lavroff
I love to eat. And what I love to eat best is bread. All kinds of bread. Challah. Rye bread. Biscuits. Croissants. I enjoy eating bread more than cake and cookies. Ask my mother; she will tell you. It’s a good thing that my family is in the Kosher food business. My brother keeps me well supplied with delicious breads and I am only too happy to nosh on them.
Speaking of bread, there is an old saying that I’m sure you’re familiar with: a human being does not live on bread alone. Those words are in this week’s Torah portion, Eikev. They are spoken by Moses, who, as in much of the Book of Deuteronomy, is retelling earlier parts of the Torah to the people Israel. In this instance Moses is continuing his oration that began last week in Devarim, with the people poised to enter the Promised Land. He revisits the blessings that will result if they adhere to God’s commandments, and the very bad things that will happen if they do not. Moses warns against idol worship and points out past transgressions when our “stiff-necked people” defied and provoked God. In doing so, Moses employs what is perhaps the most glaring example of such behavior, the making of the Golden Calf.
Moses reminds the people how God cared for them while they wandered in the wilderness, giving them “manna to eat… in order to teach you that a human being does not live on bread alone.” (Deuteronomy 8:3) Moses describes the land they are about to enter as a “good land,” with ample water from streams, springs and fountains and abundant food such as wheat, barley, grapes, figs, and pomegranates; “a land of olive trees and honey” where they may eat to their heart’s content and will lack nothing. (Deuteronomy, 8:7-9)
This description of what waited on the other side of the Jordan River is quite a contrast to the deprivations of the desert. Of course, God made sure that the people were fed in the wilderness by providing the life-sustaining manna that miraculously appeared each morning. But that didn’t stop them from kvetching. A few weeks ago, we read in Parashat B’haalot’cah that instead of being thankful for the manna, the people complained that there was no variety in their diet and pined for the “good old days” in Egypt where they may have been enslaved, but they had fish, melons, and cucumbers to eat. Now they would have all kinds of fine foods available to them. Moses therefore makes the emphatic point that when the people have eaten their fill they must give thanks to God. (Deuteronomy 8-10)
This verse is the basis for the recitation of a prayer we are all familiar with; Birkat HaMazon. We say it at the conclusion of every communal meal here at Temple Beth-El, and anyone who has attended a Jewish summer camp knows exactly how to belt it out, including when to clap and pound on the table. But how we are to bless after a meal is no simple matter. Birkat HaMazon actually consists of four different blessings. The first blessing, Birkat HaZan, praises God for providing food for all creatures. The second, Birkat HaAretz, expresses gratitude for the “good land” that God has given the people Israel, for the redemption from Egypt, for the covenant, and for the gift of Torah. The third, Boneh Yerushalayim, speaks of the Temple being rebuilt. And the fourth, Ha-tov Ve-ha-metiv, gives thanks to God, asks God’s blessing on the house in which one ate and professes hope for messianic redemption. The Talmud teaches that these blessings are among the oldest of Jewish prayers.
Saying Birkat HaMazon helps keep us aware of the source of our nutrition and connects us with our history and the spiritual concerns of our ancestors. Just as food sustains our physical lives, this recognition of God after eating food helps sustain our spiritual lives. By giving thanks every time we consume our food, we are affirming that we do not live on bread alone. We are, in fact, connecting with God and remembering to keep God’s commandments, just as Moses said.
Shabbat shalom,
Jay Lavroff
Guest Leader
