Craving some deprivation?

It’s always been a bit of an enigma. I’ve been gluten-free for years, and much of what I eat throughout the year would fit well into a Passover menu.  So why do I spend the eight days of the holiday feeling deprived?

Deprivation seems like the furthest thing from God’s way.  Most of our lives, we ask in our prayers for God to help us stay SATISFIED from all we’ve been given, and every theologian will tell you that GRATITUDE is the key to a spiritually satisfying life.

But there’s also a recognition in the tradition that this sense of deprivation at moments may actually be innate, part of the plan. In our closing blessing for the smallest of meals, we thank God who is borei nefashot rabot v’chesronan al kol mah shebarata, lehachayot bahem nefesh kol chai.  I like this translation, where we address a Divinity “Who creates numerous living things with their deficiencies,” in order to give each being life.  What a crazy concept: that God creates us with our deficiencies, in order to then bring us life and the vitality that we need.

This is hardly rigorous theology, and we have to be careful not to misuse these concepts. The idea that there might be a Higher Being who has planned for us to have gaping needs in our lives seems almost cruel when posed against certain kinds of need that exist in the world.  I would hardly choose this line to share with someone whose child was born with an immune deficiency, or to a soldier who has just lost a leg.  When I direct it inward, however, to my own desires and sense of deprivation, I am forced to face the reality that perhaps this sense of deprivation is exactly how things are supposed to be.

I have a student who describes his first glass of water in the morning as “watering every cell in his body.”  What a beautiful idea!  Waking up, he actually notices that he is missing something: hydration, and when he “waters” himself, he actually has a moment of utter gratitude.  Why?  It’s precisely because he was thirsty– because he was lacking– that the water becomes a precious gift in his morning routine.  Having lacks creates a sense of satisfaction.

Like the rest of the gluten-eating Jews in the world, I had a fabulous time “breaking” Passover this past Saturday night.  But would I have enjoyed it as much if I hadn’t had that sense of lack in my life?  I’m not sure.