The story is told of Rabbi Chaim Meisels, the Rabbi in the city of Lodz, who once went to collect funds to purchase wood for the fuel needs of the poor people in their town. He knocked on the door of a particular person of means. The butler answered the door and invited the Rabbi in. The Rabbi refused to come in, insisting that his shoes were dirty and he did not want to get the clean floors messy. It was frigid outside but Rabbi Meisels would not budge.
The owner of the house finally came and the Rabbi still resisted the invitation to come inside. After a few moments, the owner began shivering and said "I do not know about you, but I am afraid that I am going to catch a cold out here. Won't you please come inside?" It was only then that the Rabbi agreed to come inside. After he explained the purpose of his visit, the man generously donated money for the 50 families in town who needed wood to heat their homes.
It’s human nature to better understand someone else’s needs when we can relate to the problem. When I’m hungry, I’m better able to relate to a poor person’s hunger. When I’m personally satisfied, someone else’s hunger is more likely to stay a detached concept.
This is part of a deeper reasoning behind a beautiful Jewish practice, known as ‘Mayim Acharonim’ – the post-meal washing of our fingertips. (You can read the basic explanation to the traditional here)
To explain:
In the Parsha this week, we are instructed “when you eat and are satisfied, you should bless G-d”; This is the Biblical source for the Grace after Meals. But as we prepare to praise Hashem for our contentment, we need to consider a second element: Does our self-satisfaction reduce our sensitivity to someone else’s hunger?
So we wash our fingertips, rinsing our emotional selves of any smugness that might come with self-satisfaction.
Because it’s wonderful to be satisfied. And it’s even more wonderful to remain sensitive to others’ needs.