So here's the thing. The Torah says (Sh'mos 16:18) that each day when they measured the מן they had collected -- whether one gathered a lot or gathered a little -- each person found precisely one עֹמֶר of מן; no more, no less. That's pretty interesting. It sort of begs the question: so why did any gather a lot? I mean, maybe the first day or week or even month; but, c'mon, who's not going to get the message?
But that's not all. Chazal tell us (Yoma 75a) that the righteous found the מן on their doorstep (tent flap; whatever), the ordinary folk had to go out gathering, and the wicked needed to range even further. Clearly the biggest problem for the righteous was to refrain from snickering at their less righteous neighbors who did not get texted a pic of their מן sitting on their doorstep and neatly wrapped in dew from the delivery angel. (Though I guess even thinking about snickering might make them less than righteous; more evidence -- as if any were needed -- that I am not nearly in that category.) However, what did the ordinary and wicked folk do? The tents were all together and presumably the neighborhoods were not organized by righteousness nor lack thereof. Moreover, if he were wicked... wouldn't he be just as happy to take מן closer to his tent, leaving our poor ordinary dude in the doldrums because he now has to walk further and therefore thinks he has fallen to wicked?
But wait, there's more; specifically, another exegesis from Chazal (same gemara): For the righteous, the מן was fully cooked; for the ordinary folk, the מן needed some cooking; for the wicked, the מן needed to be ground/milled and then cooked. Umm.... why do I need to different signs as to who it righteous and who is not? I suppose you could answer that this sign is how they knew how far to go. That is, if the מן were a little raw in the middle, I knew I need to go our further; if it was positively inedible, then I knew I was really in trouble. You could answer that way; but it seems like too much of a stretch for my little mind. I have a different answer.
R' Avigdor Miller, ztz"l, used to extol the virtues a simple breakfast; maybe even just plain toast. However, he said quite explicitly, he was was not advocating a life of extreme asceticism and self-denial. Quite the opposite: a life where one is able to feel great pleasure if very simply foods. Why do we look for ever more tasty foods? We get bored. In other words, we are more interesting in "new" that "good". We are so sure the next thing will be better, that we forget to enjoy what we have. How many times do we to tell our children to slow down and enjoy their food? How many more times should we be telling ourselves that same message; and not just about food.
So I propose that the issue with the מן was nothing more nor less than ביטחון ואמונה/trust and faith; both in quantity and quality. The righteous were absolutely convinced that since the מן was a divinely produced and delivered food, that whatever they found at their doorstep was going to be perfectly sufficient for their nutritional needs and would have the most heavenly taste. The ordinary folk felt they needed to have more than was at their doorstep (quantity) and/or needed some tinkering with the recipe (quality). The wicked would spend all day gathering and preparing... and then, of course, enjoying the fruits of their labor. It's not that gathering and preparing were punishments for they wickedness, but that they were they outward signs of their wickedness; that is: lack of ביטחון ואמונה.
Let's go back to that first question: why didn't they get the message after days or weeks or even months? We know with certainty that our income is fixed at Rosh HaShana. We are not getting more nor less. We know with certainty some things -- Shabbos and Torah education for our children -- are off budget. And yet... and yet... c'mon, after days, months, and even years... why aren't we getting the message?
But that's not all. Chazal tell us (Yoma 75a) that the righteous found the מן on their doorstep (tent flap; whatever), the ordinary folk had to go out gathering, and the wicked needed to range even further. Clearly the biggest problem for the righteous was to refrain from snickering at their less righteous neighbors who did not get texted a pic of their מן sitting on their doorstep and neatly wrapped in dew from the delivery angel. (Though I guess even thinking about snickering might make them less than righteous; more evidence -- as if any were needed -- that I am not nearly in that category.) However, what did the ordinary and wicked folk do? The tents were all together and presumably the neighborhoods were not organized by righteousness nor lack thereof. Moreover, if he were wicked... wouldn't he be just as happy to take מן closer to his tent, leaving our poor ordinary dude in the doldrums because he now has to walk further and therefore thinks he has fallen to wicked?
But wait, there's more; specifically, another exegesis from Chazal (same gemara): For the righteous, the מן was fully cooked; for the ordinary folk, the מן needed some cooking; for the wicked, the מן needed to be ground/milled and then cooked. Umm.... why do I need to different signs as to who it righteous and who is not? I suppose you could answer that this sign is how they knew how far to go. That is, if the מן were a little raw in the middle, I knew I need to go our further; if it was positively inedible, then I knew I was really in trouble. You could answer that way; but it seems like too much of a stretch for my little mind. I have a different answer.
R' Avigdor Miller, ztz"l, used to extol the virtues a simple breakfast; maybe even just plain toast. However, he said quite explicitly, he was was not advocating a life of extreme asceticism and self-denial. Quite the opposite: a life where one is able to feel great pleasure if very simply foods. Why do we look for ever more tasty foods? We get bored. In other words, we are more interesting in "new" that "good". We are so sure the next thing will be better, that we forget to enjoy what we have. How many times do we to tell our children to slow down and enjoy their food? How many more times should we be telling ourselves that same message; and not just about food.
So I propose that the issue with the מן was nothing more nor less than ביטחון ואמונה/trust and faith; both in quantity and quality. The righteous were absolutely convinced that since the מן was a divinely produced and delivered food, that whatever they found at their doorstep was going to be perfectly sufficient for their nutritional needs and would have the most heavenly taste. The ordinary folk felt they needed to have more than was at their doorstep (quantity) and/or needed some tinkering with the recipe (quality). The wicked would spend all day gathering and preparing... and then, of course, enjoying the fruits of their labor. It's not that gathering and preparing were punishments for they wickedness, but that they were they outward signs of their wickedness; that is: lack of ביטחון ואמונה.
Let's go back to that first question: why didn't they get the message after days or weeks or even months? We know with certainty that our income is fixed at Rosh HaShana. We are not getting more nor less. We know with certainty some things -- Shabbos and Torah education for our children -- are off budget. And yet... and yet... c'mon, after days, months, and even years... why aren't we getting the message?
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