Jewish tradition has some pretty strong feelings about that, especially when it comes to something as simple as eating.
Think about biting into a juicy piece of fruit. It's delicious, right? But according to some fascinating Kabbalistic teachings, there's a whole lot more going on than just satisfying your taste buds.
The Peri Etz Hadar, a collection of Kabbalistic teachings, tells us that enjoying the bounty of this world without saying a blessing is akin to being a… robber! Strong words, I know. But why?
The key is the concept of shefa (שֶׁפַע), often translated as divine abundance or flow. The blessing, it's said, draws down this shefa. It's not just about saying "thank you" – although that's certainly part of it. It's about actively participating in the cycle of creation, acknowledging that everything we have comes from a higher source.
Imagine an angel assigned to that very fruit you're about to eat. According to this teaching, that angel is nourished by the shefa that comes from the blessing. This nourishment allows the angel to, in a way, replenish the fruit, ensuring that there's always more where that came from. It's a beautiful image, isn't it? A cosmic system of give and take.
So, what happens if you just gobble down that apple without a second thought, without a blessing? Well, the Peri Etz Hadar suggests you've interrupted that flow of shefa. You've prevented that divine power from manifesting in the world. You've essentially starved the angel of its spiritual sustenance. And as a result, the angel's power is diminished because it no longer possesses the shefa needed to replenish the fruit.
That's why, the text tells us, you're called a robber. You've taken something without giving back. You've consumed an aspect of creation without acknowledging its spiritual source, essentially eliminating the spiritual element it contained.
It's a powerful reminder that even the simplest acts, like eating, have profound spiritual implications. It encourages us to be mindful of the blessings in our lives, and to actively participate in the flow of abundance. It's a concept we also see echoed in the Talmud (B. Berakhot 35b), which emphasizes the importance of blessings before meals.
So, the next time you reach for a piece of fruit, take a moment to pause. Say a blessing. Connect to the shefa, and remember that you're part of something much bigger than yourself. Are we really just passive consumers, or active participants in the ongoing miracle of creation?