Food

When Noah sent the dove from t he Ark to find land, it returned with an olive branch.  The Midrash records the dove saying to the Almighty,”Ribbono Shel Olam!  Let my food be as bitter as the olive branch from Your hand rather than the sweetest of honey from the hand of a human being.”  (Sanhedrin 108)

 

Have you ever seen customers in a restaurant arguing over who is going to pay the bill? Both insist on playing the host.  Sometimes there are compromises, like, “I’ll pay the bill this time.  You get the next,” or “Let’s split it.”

 

However tasty the food is, it is inevitably tastier when the dinner is “on us.”  Whether at home or in a restaurant, we all prefer self-sufficiency to relying on others.  As we say in the Birkat HaMazon (Grace after meals), “May I never be in need of gifts from human hands…”.

 

Eating is a sacred act.  In Judaism, we understand food as a product of God’s continued goodness.  Appropriately enough, several customs revolve around the table to elevate the thrice-daily event.  Here are a few:

 

Ø  Some have the tradition of placing salt on the table.  Salt, for the Jew, is not a condiment but a reminder of the days when sacrifices were offered as a means of connection to the Divine.  When our ancestors brought their sacrifices to the altar the meat was salted.  Mimicking their heartfelt act of being proximate to God we place salt on our altar (the table which has replaced the idea of thanking God for our bounty).

Ø  Unlike other foods, salt does not totally disappear even though it dissolves in a liquid or melts into food it will, sooner or later, crystallize.  That is why we call people who fully embrace their humanity, “salt of the earth.”  We recognize them as an integral part of the universe.  Salt, which is ever-present, is also a sign of God’s eternal existence.  

Ø  Washing one’s hands is the way of hygiene but for the religious Jew, netilat yadayim, literally lifting of one’s hands, transcends simple cleanliness.  In the same way, the ancient priests (kohanim) used to wash their hands before beginning their scared duties, we rinse hands before commencing a holy act.  Only then is the Ineffable One’s name pronounced over bread.

Ø  It is said that all ten fingers are to be placed on the bread that we bless just as there are tens separate labors that are involved until the seeds are nurtured to be baked into a loaf, and there are ten words in the ha-Motzi.

Ø  The Talmud also advised, “the one who prolongs his meal prolongs his life.”  If the sixties were the Age of Aquarius, the next decades were the age of McDonalds and the delivered meals by box.  The gobble down food so swiftly, we might eat anything and never know the difference.  The dictum of the Talmud is universally applauded by people of medicine and healthcare providers everywhere.  But this advice is not just a digestion technique.  Tasting the food we eat brings appreciation.  Rebbe Nachman of Bratslav was known to say, “A person should eat slowly and with etiquette even if you are alone at the table.”

Ø  A final custom: Many people keep some bread on the table throughout the meal, even when saying Birkat HaMazon. The ancient ones used t say that even after completing a meal, a poor person might come to our door, asking for sustenance and we must have something to give them.  Our home, our table, is set for anyone who may be hungry.

Ø  It is true that we are most comfortable feeding ourselves and others than being dependent on others for our food.  The natural extension of that feeling is to elevate our meal, heightening our appreciation that we are obligated to no person.  We eat because of God’s grace and mercy.