Why Make Them Hungry?

The Jewish people ate miraculous food every day. So why does the Torah describe it as an affliction? 

The Price of a Pair of Tefillin 

I would like to share with you an interesting story about a Jew I mentioned not long ago.

Rabbi Tzvi Rotenberg arrived in Israel with his parents after World War II. A short time later, he became close to Chabad Chassidus and was accepted as a student at the Chabad yeshivah in Lod. When he arrived at the yeshivah, he possessed an especially precious gift, his grandfather’s pair of tefillin, whose had passed away several years earlier. In his eyes, they were not merely tefillin, but a sacred inheritance that connected him to his grandfather and to the chain of generations. Every morning, when he put them on, he felt connected to G-d and to his family’s tradition.

One day, the Rosh Yeshivah, Rabbi Meilech Kaplan, of blessed memory, asked to see the tefillin. He examined them carefully, and after a short while informed Tzvi that they were completely invalid. The news struck him hard. He found it difficult to believe that his grandfather’s tefillin were not kosher, and he was shaken by the thought that for such a long time he had been putting on invalid tefillin and reciting a blessing over them.

Rabbi Kaplan did not stop with informing him that they were invalid. He wanted to impress upon his student how important the kashrus of tefillin is. So he said to him, “Tomorrow morning, go to the kitchen and ask for two potatoes and some string. Tie one potato to your arm and the other to your forehead. At least that way you won’t recite a blessing in vain…”

When he saw that the student was stunned, he explained what he meant: “Putting on invalid tefillin is exactly the same thing. Without the kosher parchments inside them, they are not tefillin. They are nothing more than leather and flesh.”

After discovering that his tefillin were invalid, he made an extraordinary decision. Although he was still a young yeshivah student, he decided to take a step that seemed almost like the audacity of an orphan. He approached the yeshivah administrator, Rabbi Ephraim Wolf, of blessed memory, and honestly told him about the invalid tefillin, the shock he had experienced, and his desire to purchase a new, beautiful pair of tefillin.

Then he made an unusual request. The yeshivah gave each student an allowance of half a lira a month. Tzvi asked to receive an entire year’s allowance in advance. Rabbi Wolf, who knew him well and understood how deeply he wanted to beautify this mitzvah, took out the requested amount, six liras, representing a full year’s allowance, and gave it to him.

From that day on, he did not spend even a single penny. While his friends occasionally bought themselves sweets, he gave up every expense in order to save his money for this important goal. 

With the money in hand, he traveled to Jerusalem together with his close friend, Rabbi Nachman Sudak, of blessed memory, to search for a beautiful pair of tefillin. They visited scribes throughout Jerusalem, carefully looking for the finest tefillin they could find.

However, when they reached the point of making the purchase, they discovered that the six liras he had saved were not enough. The total cost was twenty four liras, an enormous sum in those days, so he still needed another eighteen liras.

At that moment, his mother, Chana, of blessed memory, entered the picture. He told her the entire story about the invalid tefillin, the embarrassment he had felt, and the tremendous effort he had made to save for an entire year in order to buy a new pair.

His mother did not hesitate for a moment. Despite her difficult financial situation, she took from her savings the money she had put away for a rainy day, eighteen liras, an amount that could have supported the family for a long time, and lovingly gave it to him so he could complete the purchase of the tefillin. Thanks to his mother’s self sacrifice and the help of Rabbi Ephraim Wolf, he was able to buy his own pair of tefillin.

Years later, at his grandsons’ Bar Mitzvah celebrations, this story became a family tradition. He would tell them about the “potato” illustration, the advance he had received from Rabbi Ephraim Wolf, and the eighteen liras his mother had given him. Through this story, he wanted to instill in them the importance of the mitzvah of tefillin.

When I recently shared this story, several people raised an eyebrow. They asked, “Is that the way you speak to a child? A child who was so happy that he had begun putting on tefillin. Instead of encouraging him, comforting him, and saying, ‘It’s all right. It’s not your fault. You didn’t know,’ they scold him and speak to him in such harsh terms?”

The very same question arises in this week’s Torah portion, Eikev.

Throughout the Torah, the story of the manna appears three times, and each time emphasizes a different aspect.

The Hunger That Nourished Faith 

The first time is in Parshas Beshalach, where the Torah first tells us about the manna that fell each day and about the great miracle through which G-d sustained the Jewish people in the wilderness. The second time is in Parshas Beha’alosecha, in the context of the people’s complaints about the manna and the Torah’s description of its qualities and the different ways it could be prepared. The third time is in Parshas Eikev, our Torah portion. The very fact that the Torah repeats the story of the manna three times teaches us how fundamental and important it is.

However, in Parshas Eikev there is a new point that was not mentioned in the previous two accounts. Moshe tells the Jewish people, “You shall remember the entire journey that the L-rd your G-d led you through these forty years in the wilderness.” Remember all the miracles, all the kindnesses that G-d performed for you. But immediately afterward he continues, “He afflicted you, He made you hungry, and He fed you the manna, which you had not known.”

At first glance, the verse should simply have said that He fed you manna. Why does it begin with the words, “He afflicted you,” an expression of affliction, as we find regarding Yom Kippur, “You shall afflict yourselves”? Even more difficult, what does it mean, “He made you hungry”? G-d fed them manna. How can it say that He made them hungry? The Rebbe cites the Midrash, which describes the manna as “food of hunger.” (Toras Menachem, Vol. 37, p. 187.)

This, however, requires explanation. In the previous two places where the Torah speaks about the manna, it praises it. Yet here, in Parshas Eikev in the Book of Devarim, the Torah describes it in terms of affliction and hunger.

The commentators explain that although the manna provided everything the body needed, eating it was not like eating ordinary food. A person would eat it, yet would not experience the same complete feeling of fullness that comes after eating bread. He received everything he needed in order to live, but the inner sensation of satisfaction was different. That is why the manna is called “food of hunger,” not because it lacked nourishment, but because the experience of eating it was different from the experience of eating ordinary food.

This raises another question. If the manna was the perfect food, why did G-d give the Jewish people food that did not provide the normal feeling of fullness? Why feed them with “food of hunger”?

One of the explanations given in Chassidus is that G-d wanted to remind them, every single moment, that their lives did not depend on nature. A person who eats ordinary bread may come to think that it is the bread that satisfies him and gives him life. But with the manna, it was clear to everyone that the food itself was not the source of life. G-d was.

That is why the manna did not provide the usual feeling of satisfaction. It reminded a person again and again that satisfaction does not come from the food itself, but from the will of G-d.

The Rebbe adds that this affliction was intended to reveal a deeper dimension in the relationship between a person and G-d. When a person has nothing to rely upon other than G-d, he discovers that G-d is not merely the One Who provides sustenance, but that He Himself is the very source of life. Therefore, the verse concludes, “In order to make you know that man does not live by bread alone, but by everything that proceeds from the mouth of G-d does man live.”

This also brings us back to the story with which we began. At first glance, they could have comforted the young student and said, “Don’t worry. It’s not your fault.” But the adults around him wanted to teach him a much deeper lesson. Sometimes it is the feeling of lacking something that creates the hunger never to settle, but instead to strive for the very best in the service of G-d.