Like everyone's shouting, "Me! Me! It's all about me!" Well, the ancient rabbis felt that too, and they captured this human tendency in a beautiful, earthy parable found in Bereshit Rabbah 83.
Imagine a field, ripe with wheat. But before the harvest, the stubble, the straw, and the chaff – the leftovers, the byproducts – they're all arguing. "The field was sown for my sake!" each one cries. They’re convinced they’re the most important part of the whole operation. But the wheat? The wheat just sits quietly, patiently waiting. "Wait until you come to the threshing floor," it says, "and we will know for what the field was sown."
Isn't that brilliant? The threshing floor – the place of judgment, of separation. Finally, the landowner arrives and begins the winnowing. The chaff, light and worthless, is carried away by the wind. The stubble is cast aside, the straw is burned. But the wheat? The wheat is gathered into a grain pile. And anyone who saw it, kissed it. image for a moment.
The Midrash, that rabbinic method of interpreting scripture, doesn't leave us hanging there. It connects this agricultural scene to a much larger question – the very purpose of creation. The nations of the world, it says, are like the stubble, straw, and chaff. Each one claims, "We are primary! The world was created for our sake!" But Israel, like the wheat, offers a different perspective. "Wait until the day arrives," they say, "when we will know for whose sake the world was created."
And what will that day look like?
The Midrash then quotes the prophet Malachi (3:19): "For, behold, the day is coming, burning like a furnace, [and all the wicked and all the evildoers will be straw]." A pretty stark image. And Isaiah (41:16) echoes this, saying of the wicked nations, "You will winnow them and the wind will carry them and the storm will scatter them."
But for Israel, there's a different fate. Again, from Isaiah (41:16): "But you will rejoice in the Lord, you will be glorified in the Holy One of Israel."
So what's the takeaway here? Is it about judging others? I don't think so. It’s more about focus. It's about understanding that true value isn't found in self-proclamation, but in something deeper, something more lasting. It's about waiting for the "threshing floor," that moment of truth when the essential is separated from the superficial. It’s about being the wheat, not the chaff.
And, perhaps most powerfully, it's about recognizing the inherent worth and beauty in the "grain" – in the things that truly nourish and sustain us, the things worthy of being kissed. As Psalm 2:12 says, "Kiss the grain lest He be angry." Here, the word var, often translated as "son" or "purity," can also mean "grain."
Maybe, just maybe, if we focus on cultivating that inner "grain," that inner essence of goodness and purpose, we can move beyond the petty squabbles and truly understand our place in the grand scheme of things. What do you think?