(Shefa - “Abundance” by Ruchama ben Yosef.)
“I don’t like leftovers!” For those of us with kids, we are well acquainted with this refrain. While the adults might take leftovers for lunch, our children rail against the specter of eating food that was not made fresh to order. It is a reflection of our indulgent and spoiled age that we can accommodate this resistance, even on occasion. I can fully acknowledge this fact, and still be the one in the family that regularly clears out the fridge to make my lunch or feed the compost.
And yet, in a more ancient time, leftovers were a different kind of sign of wealth and privilege. The ability to save food for another day was evidence that you had more than enough today; you could salt your current dish to enjoy at a later date. That said, the Bible itself seems to have a real bias against leftovers.
In the book of Leviticus, in this week’s portion, we learn about the Torah’s aversion to keeping leftovers after a sacrifice. We learn in Leviticus 8:32:
וְהַנּוֹתָ֥ר בַּבָּשָׂ֖ר וּבַלָּ֑חֶם בָּאֵ֖שׁ תִּשְׂרֹֽפוּ׃
and what is left over of the flesh and the bread you shall consume in fire.
It seems like a waste. After killing an animal for a sacrifice, why wouldn’t you save the leftovers for another day? Rabbi Shai Held offers a compelling teaching on this topic. The Bible, he argues, does not believe in hoarding. If we can save our offerings for future days, then we might be less inclined to share our wealth with others and also be more reticent to enjoy what is in front of us in the moment. When we know that everything left over after a meal will be burned that night, we are incentivized to bring more family and friends to the altar and enjoy our meal communally and in the moment.
This ostensibly dry parasha in the Book of Leviticus teaches us something deep and enduring about how we should live our lives. God has not given us power, food, and resources to hoard alone. Rather, blessings are meant to be shared and enjoyed. We should not be reckless with our wealth — we have a responsibility to steward our gifts sustainably. However, when we hold everything we receive for ourselves and for the future — which is to say, when we are guided primarily by self-concern and fear — we let the flow of blessing end with us. However, when we share and enjoy faithfully, we become vessels for channelling blessings to others.
As we approach Shabbat, a foretaste of heaven, let us think about enjoying what is on our table — literally and figuratively — immediately and generously. A life of sacrifice need not be a life of scarcity. We learn precisely the opposite in Leviticus — a sacrifice well done is one that satiates us in there here and now, and feeds all who we invite to the table.
Shabbat Shalom!