The One Stat About Food Waste That Made Me Stop Everything & Start A Revolution

I was in my kitchen, my hands deep in soapy water, scrubbing a pot after another big Shabbat dinner. The table was still littered with the joyful evidence of our gathering: half-eaten challah, a bowl of roasted vegetables that had seen better days, a container of hummus we just couldn’t finish. With a sigh, I scraped it all into the trash bag, cinched it tight, and carried it out to the bin.

It was a mundane act. A weekly ritual. I didn’t think twice about it.

Later that evening, I sat down with my laptop, intending to read the news. Instead, I stumbled upon an article about hunger in America. I skimmed it, my heart already preparing to feel a familiar, distant sadness. But then I saw it. The statistic. The one that felt like a physical blow to my chest.

In this country, we throw away nearly 40% of our food. Meanwhile, 1 in 8 people faces hunger.

I read it again. And again.

Forty percent.

I thought of my full trash bag, now sitting beside other bags in the bin. I thought of the overflowing dumpsters behind every grocery store and restaurant I passed. I thought of the slightly bruised apples I’d discard, the bread that was a day too old, the leftovers forgotten in the back of the fridge.

And then, my mind, guided by the Ruach, immediately flashed to the scriptures that have shaped our faith.

“When you reap your harvest in your field and forget a sheaf in the field, you shall not go back to get it. It shall be for the foreigner, the fatherless, and the widow…” (Deuteronomy 24:19).

HaShem’s instruction wasn’t just about accidental forgetfulness; it was a purposeful system of food recovery! It was a commandment to see our abundance not as solely ours, but as a trust, with a portion designated for those in need.

“Whoever is kind to the poor lends to the LORD, and he will reward them for what they have done.” (Proverbs 19:17).

And then came the voice of our Messiah, Yeshua, cutting through my complacency: “For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat… Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.” (Matthew 25:35, 40).

The tragedy wasn’t just the numbers. It was the disconnect. In one part of our city, perfectly good, nourishing food was being sealed in plastic tombs destined for a landfill. In another part, a young mother named Maria was staring into an nearly empty refrigerator, trying to stretch a single chicken breast to feed her three children for two days. She’s not a statistic; she’s an image-bearer of G-d, working two jobs and still having to choose between paying the electric bill and buying fresh fruit for her kids.

I met a veteran named David, who after serving our country, fell on hard times. He told me about the shame he felt walking into a soup kitchen, and the profound dignity he was given when a local food pantry, stocked with recovered food from Trader Joe's, allowed him to "shop" for his own groceries. The fresh bananas, the still-crisp salad mix, the gourmet bread that would have otherwise been tossed—it wasn’t just food. It was a message: You are seen. You are valued.

This is the revolution. It’s not a revolution of anger, but of redemption. It’s about changing the ending of the story.

That banana with a brown spot? It doesn’t have to die in a landfill, producing methane gas and dishonoring the creation HaShem called “good.” It can bring potassium and joy to a child’s lunchbox.

That extra tray of lasagna from the synagogue potluck? It doesn’t have to be thrown out. It can be wrapped with care and delivered to Sarah, the elderly widow in our congregation, who finds cooking for one a lonely and difficult task. It nourishes her body and tells her she is still part of our family.

This is our call to stewardship. This is our call to compassion. This is how we honor HaShem—by respecting the gift of creation He has given us and by fiercely loving the people He commands us to love.

My friends, I stopped everything. I started volunteering with a local food recovery organization. I called my local grocery stores and asked them about their donation policies. I started a “Share Table” at our synagogue for after-event leftovers. It’s not a grand, global revolution yet. But it’s a start. And it’s a start filled with immense hope.

The same hands that scraped perfectly good food into the trash are now the hands that deliver it. And let me tell you, the feeling is entirely different. It feels like redemption. It feels like tikkun olam—repairing the world, one rescued meal at a time.

I am inviting you to join me in this revolution. You don’t have to quit your job or start a non-profit. But you can do something.

*   **Look Up:** Find a food recovery organization in your community. [Food Rescue US] and [412 Food Rescue] are fantastic faith-friendly partners.

*   **Speak Up:** The next time you’re at your grocery store, café, or workplace, gently ask: “What do you do with your unsold food at the end of the day?”

*   **Show Up:** Volunteer for one shift. Just one. Help move food from a store to a shelter. The faces you see will forever change how you see your own grocery cart.

*   **Give:** If time is short, support those on the front lines with a financial gift. It fuels the refrigerated trucks and the logistics of hope.

We have been given a divine mandate and a practical solution. We can be the generation that bridges the grotesque gap between waste and want. We can fulfill the commandment of leaving the corners of our fields—or our modern-day supermarkets and kitchens—for the hungry.

Let’s stop everything, and start this beautiful, necessary revolution together.

B’ezrat HaShem (With G-d’s help),

Kohathite.com