In Bereshit Rabbah, a classic collection of rabbinic interpretations of the Book of Genesis, we find this idea explored through a rather unsettling lens: famine. Specifically, the text identifies ten distinct periods of famine that have plagued the world. Ten! It's a lot to consider.
Where do they get this number? Well, it starts with the curse on the ground in the Garden of Eden. "From the ground, which the Lord cursed" (Genesis 3:17). From there, the text meticulously catalogs each instance, drawing from across the Hebrew Bible.
Let's walk through them, as the Midrash (rabbinic commentary) does. There was one in the time of Adam, naturally, stemming directly from that initial curse. Then one in the days of Lemekh, again connecting to the cursed ground. We see famines striking in the times of Abraham ("there was a famine in the land" - Genesis 12:10), Isaac ("There was a famine in the land, besides the first famine" - Genesis 26:1), and Jacob ("For these two years, the famine" - Genesis 45:6). So already we see a pattern emerging in the early history of our ancestors.
The list continues: during the time "when the judges judged" (Ruth 1:1), in the days of David (II Samuel 21:1), Elijah (I Kings 17:1), and Elisha (II Kings 6:25). That's nine. And what about the tenth? The text says that there is "one that circulates and comes periodically to the world." It is ever present, always a threat.
And, chillingly, there's even a prophecy of another famine to come. But this one won’t be a famine of bread or water, but "rather, to hear the words of the Lord" (Amos 8:11). A famine of the spirit. A terrifying thought.
Now, the rabbis being rabbis, they couldn't just leave it at a simple list. They delved deeper, wrestling with the why of it all. For example, Rabbi Huna and Rabbi Yirmeya, quoting Rabbi Shmuel bar Yitzḥak, ask a pointed question about the famine during David’s reign. The root cause, they suggest, actually stemmed from the days of Saul. But, because Saul was "the shoot of a sycamore" – meaning easily broken and unable to withstand hardship – God postponed it until the stronger, more capable David was king.
It’s like the parable they share: "Shilo sinned, but Yoḥana pays?!" Why should one person pay for another's sins? Rabbi Ḥiyya the Great explains it beautifully with the analogy of a glazier. The glazier hangs his basket of fragile goblets not directly on the wall, but first affixes a strong peg to bear the weight. The famines, these periods of intense hardship, don't come during the times of the weak, but during the times of the strong, who are able to endure them. As Rabbi Berekhya says, citing Isaiah 40:29, "He gives strength to the weary."
Rabbi Berekhya, in the name of Rabbi Ḥelbo, even notes that Abraham actually faced two famines! And Rav Huna, citing Rabbi Aḥa, clarifies that one famine occurred during the time of Lemekh, and the other during Abraham’s time. Details matter. The Midrash doesn’t shy away from the brutal realities of these famines. The famine during Elijah’s time was one of drought, alternating years of plenty and scarcity. The one during Elisha’s time was so severe that "the head of a donkey was sold for eighty silver pieces" (II Kings 6:25) – an unthinkable price.
There's even a debate about the famine during the time of the judges. Rabbi Huna, quoting Rabbi Dosa, says that the price of wheat skyrocketed. This leads to a discussion about when it's permissible to leave the Land of Israel due to famine. The rabbis taught that one shouldn't leave unless the price of two se’a (a unit of measurement) of wheat sells for one sela (a unit of currency). But Rabbi Shimon clarifies that this only applies if you can’t find any wheat at all. If you can find it, even at an exorbitant price, you should stay. The example of Elimelekh, who did leave and was subsequently punished, serves as a cautionary tale.
So, what are we to make of this litany of famines? Is it just a historical record of hardship? Or is it something more? Perhaps it's a reminder that challenges, in different forms, are inevitable. That even periods of great strength and prosperity can be followed by times of scarcity and struggle. And that, ultimately, our ability to endure depends not only on our physical resources but also on our spiritual resilience. Maybe, just maybe, that prophesied famine of the spirit is the one we need to be most vigilant against.