You're Not You When You're Hungry
Willy Wonka by Laurent Durieux
“Patience, patience, little dear. Everything has to be in order...”
How hungry are you? No, not that kind of hunger (this isn’t a Snickers commercial). How hungry are you to win? How hungry are you to succeed? How hungry are you to fulfill your birthright? To capture your dreams? To run towards your life purpose like LeBron James chases NBA Championship rings? And when you know how hungry you are, only then you ask yourself the more important question: Are you hungry enough to forgo the instant satisfaction – the office doughnuts; the leftover halloween candy; the “fast food” – for the real meal. The meat and potatoes. Not just the empty carbs. Meaning, are you willing to forgo your immediate hunger to be satiated by the blessings your future may hold? Because we’re all hungry. But can you hold out for the real thing?
“Oompa loompa doompety doo
I’ve got a perfect puzzle for you
Oompa loompa doompety dee
If you are wise you’ll listen to me.”
In parshat Toledot, we encounter two boys who struggle in their mother’s womb. Esau, “A skillful hunter, a man of the outdoors,” and Jacob, “A mild man who stayed in camp.” The strange part about this story is how different the brothers are: their motives, their intentions, their attitudes, and their strengths. One the one hand, Esau has a prowess for dominating the physical world around him and capturing prey. His thrills are in the here and now. He tracks, he attacks. On the other hand, Jacob, the seemingly mild-mannered “indoors” child, demonstrates a capacity for assessment, strategy, and precaution. As we would have it, the age-old High School archetypes: The “Jock” and the “Geek.” But as Bestselling reporter-cum-advice-guru Alexandra Robbins would say: “The Geeks Shall Inherit the Earth.” Here’s how it plays out:
“Once when Jacob was cooking a stew, Esau came in from the open, famished. And Esau said to Jacob, ‘Give me some of that red stuff to gulp down, for I am famished’—which is why he was named Edom. Jacob said, ‘First sell me your birthright.’ And Esau said, ‘Look, I am going to die, so of what use is my birthright to me?’ But Jacob said, ‘Swear to me first.’ So he swore to him, and sold his birthright to Jacob. Jacob then gave Esau bread and lentil stew; he ate and drank, and he rose and went away. Thus did Esau spurn the birthright.” [1]
Now, one could make the case that Jacob deceives a starving man on the brink of death. But here’s how the language actually plays out according to Siftei Chakhamim: “If he said it due to hunger, he should have said, ‘I am dying,’ [rather than, ‘I am going to die’].” As the famous commercial tagline goes: “You're not you when you're hungry” (okay, so maybe this is a Snickers commercial after all). Because in this scenario, I see two hungry men, but only one who is truly ready to give up the sacred for satiation.
“The chocolate, yes, the chocolate, but that’s just the beginning. We have to get on, we have to get on; we have so much time and so little to do. Strike that. Reverse it. This way, please... ”
For Esau, death is death: What use is a birthright in the face of the inevitable? Alternatively, in Jacob, we find a man who can see beyond the physical limitations of his reality. We meet a man who seeks God. Who struggles with the eternal. Who longs to share in covenant. As Rabbi Bradley Shavit Artson explains:
Esau comes home after a day of hunting and he wants to eat. Meanwhile, Jacob has prepared a pot of lentil stew. Here, the man of action meets the man of forethought. Acting on impulse, Esau demands to be fed. Responding with calculation, Jacob agrees to sell his stew in exchange for Esau's birthright. Living in the present, Esau sees no benefit in his birthright. After all, it doesn't satisfy his hunger, so his parting with his birthright represents no real loss.
Jacob, on the other hand, lives with one foot in the future. Less powerful than his burly brother, Jacob compensates by using his mind and weighing the consequences. He prefers to skip a meal if that means he will acquire the birthright of the covenant. [2]
I truly believe that we are not just meant to simply survive, but thrive. Because simply catching the “low hanging fruit” would be too easy. Our impulses tell us all too often to simply go for what’s good and easy in the now. To take what’s being offered. But what if we passed on the easy catch, and held out? After all, “there are bigger fish to fry” (yes I know, lots of food puns today).
This week, strive for your birthright. Strive for hearty goals. Strive for your birthright. Don't just satisfy an urge; feed the real hunger. Don’t settle for less than what you believe you deserve. But always be willing and prepared to skip out on a meal.
“In the end, the art of hunger can be described as an existential art. It is a way of looking death in the face, and by death I mean death as we live it today: without God, without hope of salvation. Death as the abrupt and absurd end of life”
[1] Genesis 25:29-34
[2] Rabbi Bradley Shavit Artson (1959-) in "Today's Torah" from Ziegler School (11/29/2000)