Sunday, September 15, 2013

Kol Nidre Sermon: Hunger

            The first day of rabbinical school in New York City is a whirlwind.  A group of students arrive, having just spent 10 months together in Israel and looking forward to four more years of learning.  On those first days, some, who have never lived in New York before seem a little taken aback by the power of the energy in the city.  Some, whose lives before Israel existed in New York, take pride in their insider status.  
            Students in their 4th or 5th year, experienced, and passionate with all-knowing sensibilities about them arrive to clue the new students into the ways of the New York Campus.  Where are the good places to eat?  What happens when the subways are delayed?  Are the professors caring?  Each of these questions, answered in turn, with kindness and grace.  And all these questions boiling down to one meta-question: what are the customs of the institution that we need to learn so that we can become an integrated part of this seminary?  It was on that first day of my second year of Rabbinical School that I learned about our community’s ongoing social action and education project, the HUC-JIR Soup Kitchen, where I would spend almost 3 years as a cook and volunteer.
Some 21 years earlier students at the seminary felt compelled to do something when they noticed that the streets they traversed through the West Village were riddled with homeless people, hungry people, and people needing help.  What is a seminary to do?  What are seminarians to do?  How can students, living on a tight budget themselves, help?  The idea was to create a kind of haven for anyone in need.  The college had a kitchen, and had storage space.  First came the desire to make a difference, then the effort to make something happen.  And so, now almost 26 years ago, the soup kitchen was founded.   The ethos behind the program is that it is run by students, with community volunteers, who cook, organize a closet with goods and clothing, and serve the guests.  There is no line for food, only tables set with tablecloths where anyone needing a meal can come in on a Monday evening and eat something warm, have a hot cup of coffee, make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for the road, and take a break from the streets.
In the years since its founding, the neighborhood, as many in New York City, has changed.  NYU’s continuing growth and expansion raised property values.  The homeless in New York City have been helped or moved on to other neighborhoods, and yet there is still a need, evidenced by the almost 100 people who show up every week.
The need over the years has changed.  Yes, there continue to be homeless people who come in, but more and more over the years the soup kitchen at HUC has become a haven for the working poor: those who work and maybe make too much money for government assistance.  Or those who get government assistance but know that what the government provides in terms of food aid is never sufficient.  As the end of the month nears, the number of guests grows, because food aid arrives on the first of the month, and by the end, there is often nothing left.  Every meal that isn’t paid for is a help.  Hunger, an issue that was solved a generation ago in this nation, is back and is a growing issue.  More and more, however, it is understood less as hunger, and more by the term food insecurity: not knowing where your next meal might come from, being unsure that you will be able to acquire the food, most often due to poverty.
As Jews, we are not strangers to hunger and food insecurity.  Our forefathers and foremothers often suffered from food insecurity.  Our Torah and our history are riddled with examples of the impact of hunger.  When we first meet Abram, before he is even Abraham, no sooner is he promised the land by God, than a famine strikes and he and Sarai must leave for Egypt to find refuge and food.[1]  Abram’s food insecurity is so severe that he has no choice but to leave his newly acquired home to try and survive.  This story repeats with Abraham’s son, Issac, who experiences a famine in the land.[2]  In Isaac’s case, God blesses him, saving him from the famine and causing his crops to multiply and, even in the midst of the famine, Isaac to profit and grow in stature.  Every Passover we read the story of how Jacob and his sons dealt with a famine.  The famine in the land in Jacob’s generation causes Jacob’s sons and their tribes to make their way to Egypt where they grow into a great nation, and are eventually put to slavery.  Every generation of our ancestors dealt with food insecurity.
But, that was a long time ago, something like 4500 years ago, surely we have made progress, particularly in a nation as wealthy and powerful as the United States.  The truth is we have made progress, and we have both the ability and the supply to feed everyone, but do we have the will?  And, do enough people know about the issues are care enough to try to make a difference?
This past year, the documentary and companion book called A Place at the Table explored the modern phenomena of hunger and food insecurity in America in the 21st century.  In the documentary, the ebb and flow of hunger and food insecurity are put on full display, and it is shocking to realize that in this nation, up to 50 million people are hungry or food insecure.  That number includes 17 million children, representing 1 in 4 children in this nation whose next meal is not guaranteed.  What is even more shocking is the knowledge that one generation ago, hunger as an issue of concern in this nation was almost completely solved through government intervention and media spotlight on the plight of the hungry.  What has happened in the last generation is an increase in wage inequality and a stagnation of wages, particularly the minimum wage.  What this means is that as food costs, energy costs, transportation costs and rents have all increased, the amount of income for a low-wage earner has not kept the pace.
            Now, there is a lot of cheap food out there, you see it every time you go to the store; but the cheap food that low-income earners can afford is often packed with empty calories – fats, sugars, and starches – leading to a new commingling of effects.  In the areas where food insecurity is highest, so are rates of obesity, particularly among children.  Obesity leads to diseases like type 2 Diabetes which ultimately become chronic conditions and have led to skyrocketing healthcare costs.  Everything comes back to food and nutrition.  When the only food that can be afforded is not nutritious, what is a family supposed to do?
Included in this issue is the fact that government assistance, which was largely responsible for eradicating hunger in the last generation, has been drastically cut.  Between compromises on budgets to sequestrations government assistance barely keeps a family fed for a month, and as is shown in A Place at the Table, once you find a job with a better salary, suddenly you make too much money to qualify for aid.   Often this means more food insecurity than when you were making less money.  This is not how people in this nation should be living.  
            No person, no child, should have to deal with what Rosie, one of the subjects of the documentary, has to deal with when she says, “Sometimes my tummy growls, but I don’t know what to do.”  Rosie’s story is sadly not unique, she represents the approximately 1 in 4 children in America whose next meal is not guaranteed.  Because of Rosie’s hunger and the stress of living with hunger, her performance at school suffers.  Imagine what it would mean for our nation to have 25% of our students unable to concentrate, unable to learn, unable to succeed and participate in the American dream because they were hungry.  What will that mean for us a generation from now?  We cannot afford not to do something.
As Jews we understand hunger.  Our holiest day of the year, the day more people come to Synagogue than any other, this day, Yom Kippur, is, for many of us, about hunger.  It is about recognizing that ache in your belly, and reminding yourself what it is that we have done over the past year.  It is about refraining from eating and drinking to show our devotion to God and to the process of return, of teshuvah.  And this is not the only fast day.  Depriving ourselves for our faith happens on other days of the Jewish year as well.  We fast to commemorate the destruction of the Temples in Jerusalem.  We fast in solidarity with Esther.  There are a handful of fast days on our calendar, when our bellies growl, and our mouths are parched.  Hunger is not a foreign concept to Judaism. 
But our prophets teach us that the Yom Kippur brand of fasting is only part of the solution.  Isaiah cries out to us in the Yom Kippur Morning Haftarah to teach us where our focus should truly lie.
“They ask me the right way, Isaiah proclaims, “as though eager for the nearness of God.  ‘When we fast, why does God pay no heed?’ we say.  ‘When we afflict ourselves, why does God take no notice?’ we demand of the prophet.”  Isaiah responds to the people’s requests with God’s words: “Because on your fast day you think only of your business! … Is this the fast that I look for!?  A day of self-affliction?  Bowing your head like a reed, and covering yourself with sackcloth and ashes?!  Is this what you call a fast, a day acceptable to the Eternal?!  Is not this the fast that I look for: to unlock the shackles of injustice, to undo the fetters of bondage, to let the oppressed go free, and to break every cruel chain!  Is it not to SHARE YOUR BREAD WITH THE HUNGRY, and to bring the homeless poor into your house?  When you see the naked, to clothe them, and never to hide yourself from your own kin!”[3]
Share your bread with the hungry, Isaiah commands us.  God would rather we feed the hungry than feign piety by fasting.  True piety, according to Isaiah, true commitment to God and to teshuvah is achieved by acting like God.  By doing what we can to bring God into the world.  In our prayer, we recognize many of God’s kindnesses and generosities.  “The eyes of all look in hope to you and you give them food in its season, opening your hand and sating to their pleasure all living things.”[4]  God gives food with an open hand, according to the Psalmist, and Isaiah tells us that we are to share our bread willingly.  Isaiah is commanding us to find the Godliness in ourselves and take care of those less fortunate.
Isaiah’s message has been heard by some, but it is time for us all to take heed.  Food security is a human right, and we should do whatever we can to ensure that right for every person on Long Island, in America and in the world.  We are not strangers to feeding the hungry.  Our Torah and Jewish legal codes implore us to leave the corners of our fields and the gleanings of our harvests for the poor.
As government assistance continues to decrease for those in need, those suffering from food insecurity, faith and community based initiatives to feed the hungry have taken on much of the burden.  Whether we believe government should be doing more or not is not at issue.  The fact is that right now, the government’s assistance is not enough.  One of the programs that has provided much success is the school lunch program.  Students whose families qualify are fed lunch, and sometimes breakfast at school, so at least they know that they get those 10 meals a week.  Unfortunately, students who are on subsidized lunch and breakfast programs while at school must scrape by on weekends and during the summer.   And this is where innovation comes in.  Organizations like Island Harvest see a need, and do whatever they can to fill in the gaps and provide food for those who need it. 
I recently had the opportunity to visit the Island Harvest distribution center in Hauppaugue and learn about some of the great work that they do.  What is so special about their program is how innovative and agile it is.  When a gap in services is spotted, Island Harvest attempts to fill that gap.  For example, in the school lunch programs.  Every week, students who are on subsidized lunch would plan to go home for a weekend of food insecurity.  Island harvest devised a program which gives food for the weekend to make up for the gaps in government assistance.  The backpack program feeds 1600 students a week amounting to over 50000 meals.  The summer food program provides over 24,000 lunches over the summer to students.  And these programs make a difference.  Students who are not worried about their next meal, or distracted by hunger pangs perform better.  
            One student, Iyana, a 4th grader, wrote the following to Island Harvest:

Thank you for giving my family food every Friday.  It helps my mom and sisters not to be hungry. When my family was in the motel and we didn't have anything to eat, we could count on Island Harvest.  My sister loves the chocolate milk.  My sister loves the applesauce.  My mom loves the mac and cheese.  Also my cousins love the juice.  And I just want to thank Island Harvest for all they have done for me and my family.[5]

What this letter shows is that the food given for one child actually helps and feeds a family.  Iyana’s entire family eats the food, and not because they want or prefer a handout, but because they have no alternatives.  For whatever reason, Iyana’s family is dependent on the generosity of organizations like Island Harvest and Island Harvest is dependent on the generosity of people like us.
At Rosh HaShanah, I asked, as did Stefan and Jamie Rosner, that you consider bringing in food to donate to Island Harvest.  I suggested that you think about what you might normally eat on Yom Kippur, and, even if you are not fasting, fill the bags provided in the lobby and bring them back here during Yom Kippur.  If you have not yet done so, there is still time, for just as the gates don’t close until tomorrow at sundown, the boxes ready for your donation of non-perishable foods will be in our lobby all day tomorrow and through Sukkot, our festival of harvest.  And there will be more opportunities for us to give.  We all know how difficult times are.  Sometimes we may struggle to make it as well.  But, if there is anything we should take away from these 27 hours of food-free atonement and the joy at our break fast gatherings, we cannot sit by while our neighbors are hungry.
In this New Year, let us resolve to do more to combat hunger in our community.  This Yom Kippur, let Isaiah’s words ring in our ears, so that we may reenergize our commitment to tzedakah, to righteousness and justice.  Let us resolve to find our passion for social justice and social action and rejuvenate our community’s commitment to making our world better by being bearers of the Light of God, and doing God’s work here on earth.  We may not be able to feed every child, and it will take much advocacy and a firm voice in the voting booth to systemically eradicate hunger and food insecurity in our times, but that does not mean we are free to desist from doing the work.
G’mar Chatimah Tovah.  May you be inscribed in the book of life.



[1] Genesis 12
[2] Genesis 26
[3] After Isaiah 58
[4] Psalm 145 Alter, Robert, trans.
[5] Provided by Island Harvest

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