The book of Bereshit Rabbah, a classic collection of rabbinic interpretations on the book of Genesis, makes a fascinating claim. It says that there have been ten famines throughout history. It all starts with Adam, the very first human, and continues throughout the ages. As it says, “[There was famine in the land] and Abram descended to Egypt to sojourn there.” (Genesis 12:10). But what’s truly striking is that one of these famines, according to the text, is yet to come.
And it won't be a famine of bread, or a thirst for water, but something far more profound: "Not a famine for bread, and not a thirst for water, but rather, to hear the words of the Lord” (Amos 8:11). Imagine that – a spiritual hunger so intense it's considered a famine. It makes you think, doesn't it? Are we already experiencing a version of this today?
Now, the Rabbis of the Talmud weren't just listing famines; they were trying to understand why they happened when they did. Rabbi Huna and Rabbi Yirmeya, in the name of Rabbi Shmuel bar Yitzḥak, offer a powerful idea: a particular famine associated with King David should have happened in the time of Saul. The reason? Saul was considered "the shoot of a sycamore" – easily broken, without the strength to bear the weight of such a crisis. According to this idea, God postponed the famine, bringing it about during David's reign because David was strong enough to withstand it.
It’s a bit like the saying: "Shilo sinned, but Yoḥana pays?" Why should one person pay for the sins of another? In this case, the Rabbis are suggesting that difficult times are given to those who can handle them.
Rabbi Ḥiyya the Great uses a wonderful analogy to illustrate this point. He compares God to a glazier with a basket full of delicate goblets and cut glass. Before hanging the basket, the glazier tests the peg, making sure it's strong enough to bear the weight. Only then does he entrust the precious cargo. That is why they did not come about in the days of downtrodden people, but rather, in the days of strong people, who were able to withstand them.
The text then goes on to list specific famines – one in the days of Lemekh, one in the days of Abraham (Rabbi Berekhya says there were two in Abraham’s time!), a famine of drought during the time of Elijah, and a famine of panic in the days of Elisha. Each one, a test of resilience for that generation.
It even touches on the practical considerations of famine, especially in relation to the Land of Israel. Rabbi Huna, in the name of Rabbi Dosa, speaks of prices skyrocketing during the time of the Judges. The text then quotes a teaching: "A person should not depart and go outside the Land of Israel unless two se’a of wheat sells for one sela?" A se’a is a unit of volume, and a sela a unit of currency. This means you shouldn't leave the land unless wheat prices have doubled. Rabbi Shimon ben Yoḥai clarifies: that only applies if you can’t find any wheat to buy at all. If you can find it, even at an exorbitant price, you should stay. The connection to the land, it seems, supersedes even severe economic hardship.
So, what does all this mean for us today? Perhaps it's a reminder that difficult times are not random. They are tests, opportunities for growth, and a chance to connect more deeply with our faith and community. And maybe, just maybe, if we can find the strength to withstand the challenges of our time, we can help build a better future for generations to come.