The miraculous manna is mentioned in Parashat Ekev as part of the ongoing experience of life in the desert, and yet its description is surprisingly uncomplimentary: “He subjected you to hardship and hunger, giving you manna to eat” (Devarim 8:3). This statement appears to suggest that there was an element of hardship in receiving the manna, and that eating it was not satisfying – that it was part of ongoing hunger. This description is difficult to understand, especially given the way it is was presented elsewhere – that “it tasted like rich cream” (Devarim 11:8). and that there was enough for everyone: “an omer to a person for as many of you as there are” (Shemot 16:16).
Midrash Kohelet raises this issue:
R. Hananya and R. Yonatan asked Menahem Talmaya…
What is the meaning of “He subjected you to hardship and hunger” (Devarim 8:3)?
Did the Holy One blessed be He give unsatisfying food to the Israelites when He gave them manna?
In response, he brought before them two cucumbers – one complete and one that was broken in half.
He asked them – how much would you pay for the whole one? They said: We would pay two maneh.
And for the broken one? They said: We would pay a single maneh.
He said to them: But there is nothing that can be done with this one that cannot be done with the other. And he explained, that they nevertheless cannot be compared, for aside from the pleasure of taste, there is also the pleasure of appearance.
According to the midrash, Menahem Talmaya showed them that there was a missing element in the manna – it did not look appetizing. Even if the broken cucumber tastes exactly like a whole cucumber – after all, a cucumber is always eaten in pieces, and in the digestive tract it makes no difference whether or not it was broken when it was bought – there still exists a difference in how it looked when purchased. Somehow, the lack of esthetic perfection affects the taste of the food, as well.
The pleasure of eating is affected not only by the taste of the food, but by a whole range of different senses that are brought to play. They all come together to impact on the experience of eating, and even on the sense of satiation that comes after eating takes place. If hunger hasn’t been satisfied, the person who ate will remain hungry. For this reason, according to the midrash, Yitzhak asks Esav to “make for me tasteful things” (Bereishit 27:4); since he was blind, his concern was limited to matters of taste – his other senses played no role in the food that he enjoyed. The blind amora, Rav Yosef, teaches that “the blind may eat, but they cannot be satiated” (Yoma 74b). Similarly, Abayye suggests a practical application of this idea: Someone who has a good meal should eat it during daylight hours, since that is when he will be able to see it and derive full pleasure from it.
Midrash Kohelet continues, and brings the teaching of R. Elazar in the name of R. Yossi ben Zimra:
Three things were taught regarding the fig: It is good to eat, it is good for the eyes and it increases wisdom. And these three ideas are derived from a single verse: “When the woman saw that the tree was good for eating,” this teaches that it is good to eat; “and a delight to the eyes,” this teaches that it is good for the eyes; “and that the tree was desirable as a source of wisdom,” this teaches that it increases wisdom (see Bereishit 36).
The midrash turns its attention from the manna to the Tree of Knowledge. What was enticing about the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge was not merely its taste, but that it was “a delight to the eyes.” Highlighting the attributes of the Tree of Knowledge emphasizes the element that the manna was lacking. It was not only a lack of pleasure in consuming the manna, the manna had no appeal and no one was drawn to it. Thus, the manna does not even begin to measure up to the perfect fruit, the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge
Understanding and defining aesthetics and beauty, was an important philosophical discussion in previous generations, inasmuch as it is an experience that cannot be explained by rational means. Any attempt to define the meaning of beauty by means of rational tools is doomed to failure. This was the mistake of those who believed that two halves of a cucumber were identical in value to one whole cucumber. Rationally, there is no reason to distinguish between these two. The concept of beauty is related to another dimension – the dimension of desire. The idea that beauty attracts is so fundamental that research suggests that love for a child can often depend on the child’s appearance. Furthermore, nature makes evolutionary use of external appearances. Animals and flowers that succeed in attracting attention are the ones that succeed in surviving.
In recent years, concepts of beauty and aesthetics are associated not only with desire and choice but also with cultural consumerism. In order to produce a marketable product, you have to work on developing your brand so that it will be beautiful and “correct” (people buy jeans because it makes them feel young). Market forces make use of beauty to attract as many customers as possible and to convince people to purchase a product they may not need. Savvy merchants sell everything in designer packaging because that have learned that people buy the packaging. Consumer culture has clarified that there are two levels of this aesthetic – that of high culture and that of popular culture. There is a difference between the beauty of Michelangelo’s sculptures or Leonardo da Vinci’s paintings and the beauty of fashionable boots.
Aesthetics are an important value in Judaism and the Torah does not disparage the external appearance of things. It is not unusual for the Torah to note that a woman is beautiful; animals that were “blemished” were disqualified from sacrifice in the Temple, just as kohanim disqualified from serving in the Temple if they suffered from “blemishes.” People who did not meet the definition of “Every part of you is fair, my darling, there is no blemish in you” (Shir haShirim 4:7) were unable to serve in the Sanhedrin. There is no lack of such examples.
So why were the Israelites not allowed to enjoy a complete experience of eating in the desert? Why wasn’t the manna shaped in an attractive manner so that it would be enticing to the eye and the heart? The Torah teaches that the manna was brought in this manner “in order to teach you that man does not live on bread alone, but that man may live on anything that the LORD decrees” (Devarim 8:3). On a straightforward level, it appears that God wanted the Israelites to focus on what was truly important by removing distractions. In the desert, the main purpose was for the people to have a sense of closeness with God. Too much physical stimuli would only confuse the people of Israel whose goal for that period was to live in order to study Torah.
The Meshekh Hokhmah on Parashat Kedoshim writes: “When the ‘spirit’ overtakes the ‘material,’ by its nature it desires to connect with He Who sees but cannot be seen – that is, God, Who is the true completeness – to the source of wisdom and integrity.” His words apply here, as well. Here there is no silencing or neutralization of the ‘material’ to stimulate the ‘spirit.’ On the contrary, great passion envelops the people of Israel in the desert. Longing for closeness to God is also a sensory experience that draws the same energies and pervades the mind. “He subjected you to hardship and hunger” does not necessarily refer to physical hunger. The entire experience of the desert involved a yearning for the Eternal One, a life-long desire for a fuller relationship with Him.
