“You’re not you when you’re hungry.” 

The extremely relatable Snickers campaign illustrates in a variety of ways all the dangerous side effects of hunger. From turning into a gremlin, becoming a cranky Joe Pesci at a party, tackling Betty White during a game of football, or turning Brady Bunch characters into Danny Trejo and Steve Buscemi, Snickers makes humorous and memorable moments out of feeling hungry. 

If they sold Snickers during biblical times, I could see Esau becoming a spokesman, too, reflecting on the time he sold his birthright to his brother Jacob for a simple bowl of lentil stew. He would be sitting by the side of the road, holding his precious stew, while the camera zooms out to take in his brother’s expansive estate. Tents, herds, crops, and servants all come into focus before Esau sticks his head back in the frame and says, sadly, “You’re not you when you’re hungry.”

Food insecurity is a recurring theme in our Torah. Abraham leaves his land because of famine. Isaac leaves his land because of famine. Later, Isaac must move again because the locals fear his large family will consume too much of the local harvest. Eventually, the Israelites will head to Egypt because of famine, setting the stage for slavery and redemption. The pursuit of the most basic of human needs drives our earliest ancestors out of their homes again and again.

In this week’s Torah portion, hunger leads Esau to make a desperate choice. He sells his birthright to his brother Jacob, thinking that dying from hunger would make the birthright useless anyways. 

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Abraham was known for his hospitality, famously rushing to prepare meals for travelers who stopped by his tent. How then could his descendant not even offer a meal to his own brother without demanding something in return? 

The hunger that Esau feels in this week’s Torah portion, and the desperation that many of our biblical ancestors felt in their search for food security are revisited to remind us of the precariousness of our own situations and those of our neighbors and friends. 

Events of the past few weeks have only heightened the hunger crisis in America, one that feels straight out of the Genesis story. In the United States today, one in five children regularly experiences chronic hunger — nearly 14 million kids. And in 2023, 13.5% of U.S. households reported being food insecure, a number that has only grown. 

The acute concern over SNAP benefits being withheld during the recent government shutdown highlighted just how many people in our country are food insecure and how vital those benefits really are. 

Food benefits are indeed vital to the 42.4 million people who receive them every month. They’re also a very Jewish thing to do. 

“In every city where Jews live, they are obligated to appoint a charitable fund. … They allocate the money from Friday to Friday, giving anyone who needs it, sufficient food for seven days. This is called the kupah.” Rambam’s Mishneh Torah gives us a clear instruction on how to set up mutual aid and describes how it functions. This type of fund, among other types of community aid, existed in virtually every Jewish settlement and village. 

In the Middle Ages, many Jewish communities also participated in a sort of meal hosting lottery system in which each family in town had a ticket in a communal bucket. Any person who needed a meal could draw from the bucket and head to whichever family’s house they drew. They would typically receive a hot meal and a night’s lodging and often accompany the family to synagogue on Shabbat, too. 

Hunger requires a communal response; it takes all of us to provide for all of us. 

We reference that Snickers commercial often in my house whenever someone is getting cranky due to hunger, but we have been fortunate enough not to have experienced the kind of hunger that forced our ancestors — and far too many families today — to have to flee their homes. But as Jews, we are commanded to never forget that there are hungry families in our midst and never forget that we are commanded to feed all who are hungry.

Whether you volunteer, donate, raise funds or lobby your elected representatives, your work is needed and appreciated now more than ever. Perhaps next year at our seder, we’ll really be able to say, “Let all who are hungry come and eat.” 

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