May 8, 2010 | 24 Iyar 5770 

Earlier this week, Susan and I were sitting with Susan’s brother, aunt and a cousin.  Stories from the distant past of our lives seemed to be the theme of our conversation.  By way of association, one story seamlessly led to the next. Richard, Susan’s brother, told a story from the years he lived in Spain. Through my father-in-law, of blessed memory, Richard received a Passover seder invitation from a family that lived in Madrid. When he arrived, Richard readily realized that he would be sharing the seder with a well-to-do Spanish family. Everything about the house reflected the family’s wealth and influence.  At some point during the evening Richard found himself in the kitchen speaking with one of the “servants.” The two men really hit it off, and the kitchen staff member invited Richard to attend a soccer game with him. Richard was delighted with this invitation and mentioned it to his hosts when he returned to the table. With a look of some disdain, Richard’s host looked at him and said, “It won’t be possible for you to go to the soccer game with him. You cannot fraternize with the help…” Of course, Richard was taken aback by that response, but he chose not to challenge his host.

I thought of that story as I read a particular verse and a commentary on it in our Torah Reading. The first of our two parshiyot, Behar, describes the sabbatical year laws. In the seventh year the land must lie fallow. However it is permissible to eat whatever the land itself naturally produces:

But you may eat whatever the land during its sabbath will produce – you, your male and female slaves, the hired and bound laborers who live with you, and your cattle and the beasts in your land who live with you… (Lev. 25:6)

Why does the Torah include these details concerning the rights of slaves, laborers, and animals to eat whatever the land produces? Isn’t that obvious?!  The answer is, “No, it is not obvious!” If such people and animals do not have the same rights as land owners in general, then, in the absence of instruction to the contrary, it might be reasonable to assume they also do not have the same right as the land owner to eat the land’s produce!  Therefore the Torah tells us (and really our Israelite ancestors) that these individuals and animals do have rights!

The Netziv (Rabbi Naftali Zvi Berlin, a 19th century Russian rabbi) reinforces this conclusion. He notes that the Torah here implies that during the sabbatical year, land owners, their slaves, and workers eat the same food.

If so, the sabbatical year really was a “leveler” of society, a time to remind society of the rights of all (even animals) irrespective of one’s station in life. In particular, this sabbatical year law concerning consumption of what the land naturally produces speaks volumes about a fundamental human right to food. Hunger in God’s world is a chillul hashem, a profanation of God’s name and a perversion of God’s world.

The laws of the sabbatical year are not observed outside the Land of Israel. But their purposes are relevant in all places and for all time. Food is a basic human right, and we best “fraternize” with anyone who needs our help in assuring its presence.