I was recently doing a chevruta study session with a dear friend of mine. We have been studying a 13th-century Jewish text called Sefer HaYirah (ספר היראה). Although the word yirah is commonly translated as fear, I would argue that awe and wonder better encapsulate the word. That tangent set aside, one of the passages we were studying had to do with saying a blessing over the bread:
וירך על מלחם המוציא. ויתן ריוח בין תיבה לתיבה.
Now he says the [Jewish] blessing of hamotzi over the bread, but he must leave an interval between each and every letter.
That is quite the intentionality! When reading that, I had to ask myself why does Judaism put so much emphasis on bread? On Shabbat, there are two loaves of challah bread. During Rosh Hashanah, there is the round challah. For Passover, there is the unleavened bread of matzah. The Hebrew word for "bread" (לחם) appears in the Torah over 300 times. And bread is filled with carbohydrates, the most effective form of energy for humans. Most notably, it makes it on the top of the hierarchy for food blessings in Judaism. Why is that out of all the foods on the planet, Judaism values bread above all else?
Before answering that question, I think there is something peculiar about the hamotzi blessing itself:
ברוך אתה הי המוציא לחם מן הארץ
Blessed are you, oh G-d, ruler of the universe, who brings forth bread from the universe.
The blessing is weird at first glance because G-d does not bring forth bread in the literal sense. It is not like people plant seeds and out pops loaves of bread. It is a grain that is grown, such as wheat, that is eventually processed into bread. So why is the blessing framed in such an awkward fashion?
In the Talmud (Berachot 58a), the Rabbis talk about how much man had to toil to make bread, whether it was the plowing, the sowing, the reaping, the sheaving, the threshing, winnowing, sifting...you get the idea. Making bread is a lot of work and certainly was quite the task back when these blessings were crafted. As my friend independently realized, there is a lot of work that gets involved. And as I brought up in a previous blog entry, the multiple steps in the supply chain provide multiple opportunities for us to be grateful and wonder at how such a complex process exists at all.
Even more interesting is how the language is Psalm 104:14 is almost identical to the ones in the hamotzi blessing, i.e., להוציא לחם מן הארץ. The blessing does merely act as a tribute to G-d. It is an acknowledgement of a partnership. We both recognize the work that we put in to turn the wheat into bread, as well as wheat being able to be transformed into bread comes from G-d, the Ultimate Source of the Universe. A tangential lesson is that we are meant to work hard for our sustenance, but the overall trajectory is ultimately in G-d's hands. There are things we can do to improve our lot, but ultimately, the outcome is out of our hands. Dichotomy of control in a nutshell.
Another interesting concept related to the blessing, which comes from Tiferes Yisrael, is that hamotzi makes reference to the entire Earth (הארץ), whereas the blessings for vegetables only reference the soil on the surface on the Earth (האדמה). This actually is an extension of how much effort goes into making bread. We are not meant to get at the surface level. We are meant to dig deep and understand so we can nourish ourselves at the greatest depths of our souls.
The Torah (Deuteronomy 8:3) teaches "For not on bread alone will man live, but upon that which issues from G-d's mouth." Yes, the Torah acknowledges being fed because poverty is terrible both materially and spiritually. Lurianic mystical tradition teaches that this Torah verse is about releasing the spiritual potential within the physical act. The task set before a Jew is how to transform a physical, otherwise mundane act and elevate it into a higher purpose.
While it sounds daunting, it is not as arduous as it may seem. In contrast to manna, which in Hebrew is referred to as "bread of the Heavens," the bread over which we say a blessing is of the earth, something that is close and accessible. We do not need an intermediary or twenty years studying to become close to G-d or gain access to a spiritual life. It is close by. By reciting hamotzi, we can put minds and spiritual paths on a course previously unimaginable.