De(4) These are the animals that you may eat: the ox, the sheep, and the goat; (5) the deer, the gazelle, the roebuck, the wild goat, the ibex, the antelope, the mountain sheep, (6) and any other animal that has true hoofs which are cleft in two and brings up the cud—such you may eat. (7) But the following, which do bring up the cud or have true hoofs which are cleft through, you may not eat: the camel, the hare, and the daman—for although they bring up the cud, they have no true hoofs—they are impure for you; (8) also the swine—for although it has true hoofs, it does not bring up the cud—is impure for you. You shall not eat of their flesh or touch their carcasses.
Deuteronomy, in Greek, literally means "second law"; it is a later text which summarises the laws given in the earlier books of Torah. But that repetition introduces variation.
What are the basic criteria for land animals to be kosher? Can you discern any criteria not explicitly stated in the text above?
Based on these criteria, list 5 animals that are kosher, and 5 (other than the ones listed already) that aren't.
(ט) אֶת־זֶה֙ תֹּֽאכְל֔וּ מִכֹּ֖ל אֲשֶׁ֣ר בַּמָּ֑יִם כֹּ֧ל אֲשֶׁר־ל֛וֹ סְנַפִּ֥יר וְקַשְׂקֶ֖שֶׂת תֹּאכֵֽלוּ׃ (י) וְכֹ֨ל אֲשֶׁ֧ר אֵֽין־ל֛וֹ סְנַפִּ֥יר וְקַשְׂקֶ֖שֶׂת לֹ֣א תֹאכֵ֑לוּ טָמֵ֥א ה֖וּא לָכֶֽם׃ {ס}
List 5 water-based creatures that are kosher and 5 that are not.
The Leviticus passage contains two sets of instructions: first, there are instructions concerning birds (13-19), and second, other winged "swarming things" (20-23). In Deuteronomy, the second passage is considerably reduced.
Note that there are no criteria given by which to judge whether a bird is kosher or not; instead, there are two lists of examples: birds that may be eaten, and birds that may not. What do the birds on each list have in common? Is it possible to derive a general rule from these lists?
The discussion of "swarming things" is a general prohibition, with very limited exceptions detailed in Leviticus: locusts, crickets, and grasshoppers, insects known to destroy grain crops. Why might these be deemed acceptable to consume?
Now that you've gotten a bit used to the division between kosher (permitted) and treyf (forbidden), hopefully you are beginning to wonder WHY this division exists, and you are far from alone in that.
Below are a sample of Rabbinic texts, from the Talmud to the present day, that engage with the question of why kashrut exists. Can you identify any themes that are consistent between these (or between a certain number of them)? Are there points where these explanations contradict each other?
A NOTE ON LANGUAGE:
The Hebrew words "assur" and "mutar" are often translated into English as "clean" and "unclean" or "pure" and "impure", as you can see in the Torah passages above. You will notice that I am being very careful not to use those words, preferring the modern Yiddish "kosher" and "treyf" or, if I use English, "permitted" and "forbidden". This is because I am trying to avoid the moral implications that often adhere to the language of purity or cleanliness. One thing you might note as you work through the texts below is whether the commentators are treating kashrut as a moral issue or not--and whether they are presenting it as a universal concern or one which is limited to a specific subset of people.
(ד) את הגמל כי מעלה גרה הוא. הול"ל כי פרסה איננו מפריס שזה עיקר טעם אל הטומאה וכן בשפן וארנבת קשה זה, ובחזיר אמר כי מפריס פרסה הוא הל"ל כי אינו מעלה גרה, ולמה התחיל בכולם בסימן טהרה שלהם וביאור ענין זה שסימן טהרה שבכולם מוסיף טומאה על טומאתן כדרך שאמרו בעשו (בר"ר סה.א) שנמשל לחזיר שפושט את טלפיו להראות כאילו כשר ותוכו מלא תוך ומרמה וזה מורה על כל מי שאין תוכו כברו כמדת הצבועים המראים את עצמם כשרים והמה בלי ספק גרועים מן הרשע הגמור שתוכו וברו שוין לרעה, כמו שפירש"י על פסוק ולא יכלו דברו לשלום (בראשית לז.ד) וע"כ הפרסת פרסה בחזיר הוא סימן טומאה לפי שבפרסה זו הוא יכול להטעות הבריות ולהראות כאילו הוא כשר וכן בהפך זה בגמל ושפן וארנבת, ואע"פ שכל מדות אלו אינן שייכין בבהמות מ"מ הם מולידים תכונה רעה זו בגוף האוכלם כי כל אוכלם יאשמו (ע"פ ירמיה ב.ג) להיות מן כתות הצבועים המראים את עצמם כשרים כמו עשו וחביריו.
The camel, that chews the cud - The text should just have said "because it does not have split hooves" since this is the real principle of its non-kosher status, and so too for the rabbit and the hare. This is difficult. Also too with the pig it says "that has split hooves" but it should just have stated "because it does not chew the cud". Why does the text begin regarding all these animals with they signs of possibly being kosher, and then it adds later the sign of their non-kosher status? This is because both sign add to its non-kosher status. This is like what they (the rabbis) said that the pig is a symbol for Esav (Roman empire in the following midrash) that the pig extends his hooves as to say it is kosher, while inside it is full of deceit and fraud, and this teaches regarding everyone whose insides are not like their outsides, like the hypocrites that show themselves as kosher but they are without doubt worse than the complete scoundrel, since [the scoundrel's] insides are like his outsides, all devoted to evil. This is also what Rashi explained regarding the verse "they could not speak peaceably to him" (Gen. 37:4). And so the split hooves in the pig are a sign to its un-kosherness since because of those hooves it can mislead people, pretending it is kosher, and the same applies in the opposite direction to the camel, the hare and the rabbit. And even though these character traits (of honesty and dishonesty) do not apply for animals, they give rise to this negative aspect in those who eat it.
(ב) ואומר כי כל מה שאסרתו התורה עלינו מן המאכלים - מזונם מגונה. ואין בכל מה שנאסר עלינו מה שיסופק שאין הזק בו רק החזיר והחלב; ואין הענין כן כי החזיר יותר לח ממה שצריך ורב הפסולת והמותרות ורוב מה שמאסתו התורה לרוב לכלוכו ומזונו בדברים הנמאסים. וכבר ידעת הקפדת התורה על ראית הלכלוכים ואפילו בשדות במחנה - כל שכן בתוך המדינה. ואילו היתה מותרת אכילת החזיר היו השווקים עם הבתים יותר מלוכלכים מ'בית הכסא' - כמו שתראה ארצות הצרפתים היום. כבר ידעת אמרם "פי חזיר כצואה עוברת דמי":
(2) I maintain that the food which is forbidden by the Law is unwholesome. There is nothing among the forbidden kinds of food whose injurious character is doubted, except pork (Lev. 11:7), and fat (ibid. 7:23). But also in these cases the doubt is not justified. For pork contains more moisture than necessary [for human food], and too much of superfluous matter. The principal reason why the Law forbids swine's flesh is to be found in the circumstance that its habits and its food are very dirty and loathsome. It has already been pointed out how emphatically the Law enjoins the removal of the sight of loathsome objects, even in the field and in the camp; how much more objectionable is such a sight in towns. But if it were allowed to eat swine's flesh, the streets and houses would be more dirty than any cesspool, as may be seen at present in the country of the Franks. A saying of our Sages declares: "The mouth of a swine is as dirty as dung itself" (B. T. Ber. 25a).
THE EXPLANATION OF THE ABARVANEL
(Introduction and Translation by Rav Michael Hattin)
Many were the thinkers who took the Rambam's thesis to task, attacking it upon textual as well as philosophic grounds. The most outspoken of these critics was the Abarbanel (15th century, Spain) who refused to accept that the Torah was a repository of medical lore (commentary to Parashat Shemini):
…God forbid that I should believe such a thing! If that were the case then the Torah of the Lord would be no more than an insignificant and overly concise medical treatise. This is not the way of the Torah of the Lord or of its profound objectives. Besides, with our own eyes we see how the nations that consume the flesh of the pig, detestable things, the mouse as well as the other impure birds, land animals and fish, are all alive and well, strong and not at all feeble or frail…All of this is a clear indication that the Divine Torah did not come to heal the body or to promote physical health but rather to foster the health of the soul and to heal its afflictions. Therefore, the Torah forbade these foods because they have a deleterious effect on the pure and intelligent soul, breeding insensitivity in the human soul and corrupting its desires. This causes the formation of an evil nature that breeds a spirit of "tuma" and banishes the spirit of "tahara" and holiness, concerning which David implored: "Do not take Your spirit of holiness from me!" (Tehillim 51:13).
מלמד שאין ענין המאכלות האסורות לבריאות הגוף כברמב”ן, שהרי האומות אוכלים ובריאים, אלא כונתם לרפואת הנשמה, כי מגרשים רוח טהרה וקדושה, ומולידים אטימות השכל ואכזריות, וזה דוקא מועיל ”אליהם” לישראל, שהם לחיי העולם הבא, אבל לאומות העולם אין תועלת במצוה זה.
Kli Yakar, Shlomo Ephraim ben Aaron Luntschitz, 17th century
The reason for the laws of kashrut is not for physical health benefits, as the Ramban (Nachmanides) explains. We see that non-Jews eat non-kosher foods and are healthy. Rather their purpose is for the well-being of the soul. Non-kosher foods remove the spirit of purity and holiness, and create a blockage in the intelligence, and cause cruelty. This only helps “them,” Israel, for they will live in the world to come. But for non-Jews there is no purpose in this mitzvah.
Louis Jacobs on Nachmanidies
Nahmanides, in his commentary to the Pentateuch [the Torah], tends to see the dietary laws as beneficial to the soul rather than the body. Nahmanides observes that the forbidden animals and birds are predators, so that for man to eat of their flesh will have an adverse effect on his character, whereas the permitted animals and birds are calmer and far less violent. As for fishes, those that have fins and scales are able to swim nearer to the surface of the water where they can inhale the fresher air, whereas the other fish lurk in the murky waters of the deep, and their flesh is less clear and refined.
Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch
Just as the external temple, which represents your holy mission and to which you should sanctify yourself, becomes desecrated by impurity...so are these foods impure and unfit for your spirit, as far as they are all of them the living place of activity for your own being which is summoned unto holiness. If you have eaten them. not only touched but absorbed them into your system- you may be more nourished and better fed: but the animal instinct will be aroused more strongly within you, and your body becomes more blunted as an instrument of the spirit. Your heart, instead of being holy, instead of only striving for holiness- namely, your sublimity over everything animal-like, is drawn down to the animal- or become the more apathetic and dulled. Your spirit is now faced with a fiercer battle. and is less equipped for the fight" (Horeb, 317).
Rabbi Shneur Zalman of Liady (1745-1812)
The great Kabbalist, Rabbi Isaac Luria (the "Ari", 1534-1572) taught that every created thing possesses a "spark" of divine energy that constitutes its essence and soul. When a person utilizes something toward a G-dly end, he brings to light this divine spark, manifesting and realizing the purpose for which it was created.
In all physical substances, a material "husk" (kelipah) encases and conceals the divine spark at its core, necessitating great effort on the part of man to access the spark without becoming enmeshed in the surface materiality.
No existence is devoid of a divine spark -- indeed, nothing can exist without the pinpoint of G-dliness that imbues it with being and purpose. But not every spark can be actualized. There are certain "impregnable" elements whose sparks are inaccessible to us. The fact that something is forbidden by the Torah means that its husk cannot be penetrated, so that its spark remains locked within it and cannot be elevated.
Thus, one who eats a piece of kosher meat and then uses the energy gained from it to perform a mitzvah, thereby elevates the spark of divinity that is the essence of the meat, freeing it of its mundane incarnation and raising it to a state of fulfilled spirituality. However, if one would do the same with a piece of non-kosher meat, no such "elevation" would take place. Even if he applied the energy to positive and G-dly ends, this would not constitute a realization of the divine purpose in the meat’s creation, since the consumption of the meat was an express violation of the divine will.
This is the deeper significance of the Hebrew terms assur and mutar employed by Torah law for the forbidden and the permissible. Assur, commonly translated as "forbidden," literally means "bound", implying that these are things whose sparks the Torah has deemed bound and imprisoned in a shell of negativity and proscription. Mutar ("permitted"), which literally means "unbound," is the term for those sparks which the Torah has empowered us to extricate from their mundane embodiment and actively involve in our positive endeavors.
The "bound" elements of creation also have a role in the realization of the divine purpose outlined by the Torah. But theirs is a "negative" role-they exist so that we should achieve a conquest of self by resisting them. There is no Torah-authorized way in which they can actively be involved in our development of creation, no way in which they may themselves become part of the "dwelling for G-d" that we is charged to make of our world. Of these elements it is said, "Their breaking is their rectification." They exist to be rejected and defeated, and it is in their defeat and exclusion from our lives that their raison detre is realized.
(Based on Tanya chapters 7-8)
Blu Greenberg, How to Run a Traditional Jewish Household.
The laws of kashrut fall into the category of statutes, chukkim, Biblical laws for which no reason is given. In other words, we don’t know why this food is forbidden and that one not.
It is obvious, however, that what is involved is the holiness quotient. Most of the laws of kashrut are given in the context of the holiness code. For example, immediately following the laws of forbidden kinds, we read: “For I am the Lord your God, sanctify yourselves and be holy, for I am holy” (LEV. 11:44).
What does it mean for a human being to be holy? Several things come to mind: special, set aside, more pure, on a special plane of existence. These are not mere words; they have resonance in the daily life of a Jew. Holiness has something to do with the way we consume food, the profound implications of killing for food, and the nature of the community with whom we share this same value system.
By extension, one who keeps kosher should not eat with crude table manners, gobble food down, or talk while chewing. There should be an aura of dignity, a component of holiness in the act is expressed in other places as well: ritually washing the hands before eating bread; reciting a blessing over bread, which symbolizes a meal; salting the bread, symbolic of the salting of Temple offerings; and reciting Grace after the meal.
Second, when we buy food, prepare it, and eat it, we are reminded that we live not by laws of human beings but by the law of the One Who creates life and gives food. Moreover, it is only by divine sanction that we are given the right to take the life of an animal for food.
Third, the Rabbis tell us, the laws of kashrut come to teach us compassion. This is true of laws regarding ritual slaughter, draining of blood, and separation of meat and milk. Even as we eat that which comes of another life, we must do it with a sensitivity to what life means. We may not callously take the life of an animal nor become inured to the pain of a beast. We may not take the bird from its nest with its mother hovering nearby, nor seethe a kid in its mother’s milk. These would be acts of cruelty and uncaring. The laws of kashrut are often pointed to as examples of pure ritual. Truly, however, they should be considered as prime examples of the ethical sensitivity of Jewish law. It does not surprise me in the least to come across a tradition that suggests we will all be vegetarians when the Messiah comes, just as Adam and Eve once were in the Garden of Eden.
But all of those things are more elusive and harder to keep continuously in mind than a fourth meaning of kashrut—community. Somehow, an awareness of others who operate within identical and very specific parameters creates a strong bond of kinship. Just as Shabbat and holiday celebration foster a sense of “community,” so does personal observance of kashrut become a tie that binds us to each other. Nowhere do I feel more connected to my community than on those rare occasions when I find myself in a non-kosher restaurant, eating half a cantaloupe while my companions dab at their shrimp cocktails or paté de foie gras.
R. Goldie Milgram
Why, according to the Torah, do we keep kosher? In Leviticus, after the enumeration of permitted and prohibited animals, the text concludes: "For I am the Eternal your God; sanctify yourselves, therefore, and be holy, for I am holy." We keep kosher to be holy, as God is holy. This concept of holiness is associated more frequently and strongly with the dietary laws than with any of the other 613 biblical commandments.
http://reclaimingjudaism.org/teachings/eco-kosher-jewish-spirituality-action
Rabbi Yitz Greenberg
Kashrut is one of the defining religious practices of Jewish tradition. Over the centuries, there has been strong criticism of the idea behind kosher food. Scoffers dismissed the laws as “Judaism of the belly.” The New Testament quotes Jesus as saying: “It is not what goes into the mouth that defiles a person—but what comes out of the mouth.”1 Spirituality should be all about nurturing your mind and heart and directing them to meaningful purposes, not about satisfying your appetite or supplying nutrients to your body.
I beg to differ. The laws of Kashrut are an extraordinary paradigm of the Torah’s spiritual vision of an (ultimate) ideal world—and how to live in the real world as it is, while simultaneously upholding a higher standard, working towards the final tikkun (repair).2 Underlying this analysis is a fundamental thesis about Judaism: This is a religion that teaches that the highest value is life itself; that humans are called to join in a covenant-partnership with God to live on the side of life.3 Starting in the present real world, we are to develop life to its maximum. We are to work to improve both nature and society to uphold all forms of life in all the dignity and value that we deserve. Finally, in every human behavior in life, there is a choice between life and death. The human calling is to maximize life and minimize death in every action to whatever extent possible.
Eating is manifestly a matter of life and death. If you do not eat, you will die. However, what you choose to eat and how you prepare the food can further increase the quotient of life or of death in eating. Hence, the Torah regulates food and its preparation to shape the experience of eating into an act of maximum health and reverence for life.
Crucially, the Torah’s ideal of eating is vegetarianism—that is, that a person should not live by killing another sentient being. In the Garden of Eden narrative, not just humans, but all living creatures, are vegetarians. “God said I have given you all every herb bearing seed… and every tree on which is the fruit… to you for food. And to every beast of the earth and to every bird of the air and to everything… on the earth in which there is life, I have given every green herb for food…” (Genesis 1:29-30). According to Isaiah, in the Messianic age, when the world is totally repaired, then not just humans but animals will be vegetarian: “...the wolf shall live with the lamb… and the calf and young lion and the fatling together… and the lion shall eat hay like the cattle…” (Isaiah 11:6-7).
However, in the current real world, the Torah pivots and compromises with the human situation. After the flood, God concludes to live with humans’ imperfections, to make concessions rather than uphold ideal standards by force, and to work with humans to repair the world gradually in order to attain the final perfections.4 Given that humans need the protein and given that humans’ hunting is central to their food sufficiency, God grants them the right to eat meat (Genesis 9:2-3).
This permission is a concession which undercuts the sacredness of life; therefore, a restriction is placed on meat eating (Genesis 9:4). Note that the laws of Kashrut are all about restrictions on meat eating. All vegetables and mineral foods are kosher for all humans to eat at all times. The first law of Kashrut is on all human beings, not just Jews. All humans are prohibited to eat blood. Blood is forbidden to eat because it is understood to be the carrier of life.5 Obeying the ban on eating blood is humanity’s acknowledgement that ideally it should not kill other living beings for food. We eat the meat but the blood is not ours to consume; the life belongs to God. This restriction restores some of the sense of the sacredness of life which was weakened by acceptance of meat eating. Thus it is a step from the present flawed reality toward the final stage when life will again be untouched and supreme.
When the Jews enter the covenant of Abraham (and later at Sinai), they commit to be an avant garde, a kind of “lead partners” in the universal covenant with humanity. We commit to push harder toward the final stage by holding ourselves to a higher standard right now. Therefore the Jewish laws of Kashrut apply many more restrictions on meat eating. Note again that there are no restrictions on eating vegetable or mineral products. Thus the Jewish religious diet tries to amplify the sacredness of life over and above that of the surrounding cultures, even when permitting meat eating.
The additional restrictions are calibrated to the level of life that one is consuming. The less developed forms of life (which appear earlier in the Creation narrative) are less restricted. The lowest form of life permitted to eat under kosher laws is fish. There is only one general restriction on fish. Only a few species are permitted, those that have fins and scales (Leviticus 11:9-12).6
If one wants to eat flesh of the next level up of life, that is, birds, then there are two general restrictions. One is, again: only a limited number of species are permitted. The Torah does not give signs that identify a kosher species (like fins and scales among fish).7 In the talmudic discussion, however, the Rabbis say that there is one definite marker of non-kosher bird species: ones with a prominent strike talon.8 This shows that the bird is a predator which lives primarily by hunting other birds and smaller animals. Such a species which lives primarily by killing is ipso facto not appropriate eating for a people which seeks to uphold the sacredness of life.
The second general restriction on eating flesh of birds is that there is a specified ritual of slaughter by which it must be killed. This method of shechitah involves cutting the jugular vein and the esophagus with a perfectly sharpened knife (i.e. totally smooth edge, clean, instant strike, not a tearing gradual motion). The knife slash cuts off the flow of blood (and air) to the brain causing instant loss of consciousness. In other words, the bird must be put to death swiftly and painlessly. If the bird dies by beating, wounding, crushing, etc. then its death is slower and its suffering greater and it is not permissible to eat it. Again, the process of Kashrut minimizes death and suffering - thus upholding the preciousness of life even in the face of eating meat.
The highest level of evolved life of permitted kosher food is land animals. Here there are three general prohibitions that restrict the meat eating. The first again is a species restriction. Only animals that chew the cud and have a split hoof (ungulates) are permitted. There are very few species that fall into this category. We know that chewing the cud (that is having a second stomach and rechewing and digesting the food) is because the animal’s diet is strictly vegetarian which is more difficult to digest. It follows that all kosher animals are herbivores. They are not carnivores, not hunters.
This begs the question: Why should a peaceable, non-predatory animal be consigned to be eaten? What kind of reward is that for being of a gentle nature? One possibility is the Torah’s deeper message is that “you are what you eat.” Eating predators instills aggression, be it physiologically or psychologically.
The second general restriction with animals is the requirement of shechitah to insure a swift, painless death.9 Since cattle and larger animals are more difficult to slaughter, hoist and shackle treatments were developed to hold the animals down. Some of these procedures were painful and harmful to animals so kosher slaughterhouses changed over to holding pens which are more humane. Some fundamentalist Orthodox slaughterhouses were slower to make these adaptations, leaving some stain on the reputation of kosher slaughter. Nevertheless, the kosher slaughter laws clearly are intended to respect animal life and minimize its pain.
The third general restriction placed on eating meat of animals was in the method of preparation. Even properly slaughtered meat can not be mixed or cooked with milk (or served with dairy either). The symbolism is clear. Meat is the flesh of a killed animal. Milk is the nurture of life, especially mother’s milk.10 Life is life and death is death and ‘never the twain shall meet’ is a good articulation of the halakhic approach. In Jacob Milgrom’s words, the tradition is objecting to “the fusion and confusion of life and death simultaneously.” The covenant asks its members to see life and death forces in binary opposition to each other and one must not blur the lines between them. Once the choice is stark and clear, the covenant participant is instructed to “choose life.”
Every day, in every food preparation, in every meal - by not eating unthinkingly, or consuming whatever is at hand, or the standard food of the society, the kosher practitioner proclaims commitment to the supremacy of life. The selection of food proclaims that s/he/we are on the way to a vegetarian lifestyle and an age when humans will not raise their hands to kill another - be it animals or humans.
Footnote references, along with an audio recording of this talk, are available at:
https://www.sefaria.org/sheets/311737.1?lang=en&with=all&lang2=en
The Purpose of Kashrut from myjewishlearning.com
...Traditional and modern commentators have offered various explanations as to why particular fish, poultry, and animals are considered tahor (“ritually pure”) and therefore acceptable to eat. But perhaps more important than the meaning of each of the details of the prohibitions is the simple fact that we are given a list of dos and don’ts that govern what we are to consume daily. According to the Torah, God asks that we abstain from eating certain foods, not because they are unhealthy or intrinsically problematic, but simply as an expression of our devotion. As with other chukim (laws that the rabbinic sages define as being without rational explanation), these prohibitions are like the requests of a beloved: we may not understand them, but we are, in essence, asked to follow them purely as an expression of our love. Daily, the observance of kashrut calls us back to a personal relationship with God.
The laws of kashrut offer a Jewish spiritual discipline that is rooted in the concrete choices and details of daily life — to be practiced in an area that seems most “mundane.” In fact, part of the beauty of kashrut is that regardless of our age, personal interests, or geographic location, we all eat, and most of us do so several times a day. While we may sometimes choose to dine alone, eating is almost universally enjoyed as a social activity. A spiritual discipline around eating is one that carries the clear message that spirituality is about far more than what we do in synagogue and on holidays; it extends into every area of our lives, every single day.
Kashrut reminds us again and again that Jewish spirituality is inseparable from what one might term “physical.” It teaches us that Jewish spiritual practice is about taking the most ordinary of experiences — in all aspects of our lives — and transforming them into moments of meaning, moments of connection. Kashrut provides a model for doing just that, around issues of food preparation and eating. It’s time to cook dinner: What will we make, and how will we prepare it? Will we be driven by an empty stomach or considerations that extend beyond it as well? In these moments, kashrut can connect us to Jewish tradition, to other Jews, and to God. We are hungry and sit down for a meal, but before digging in, we recall that Jewish tradition offers us the practice of pausing for a blessing and a moment of gratitude. We may take this a step further and decide to put aside tzedakah regularly at dinnertime, as some of us try to do. This can be seen as a practice similar to the tithing performed in ancient times, as outlined in the verses immediately following the rules of kashrut in our Torah portion (Deuteronomy 14:22-29). Instead of just wolfing down our food and moving on to the next activity, we can learn from Jewish rituals to pause and turn the act of eating into a moment of heightened spiritual awareness.
Jonathan Safran Foer
Unlike all of the other authors included in this source sheet, Jonathan Safran Foer is a novelist, rather than a rabbi, but this essay is a significant contribution to the discussion of kashrut's influence on secular Jewish dietary choices.
It wasn’t until I became a parent that I understood my grandmother’s cooking. The greatest chef who ever lived wasn’t preparing food, but humans. I’m thinking of those Saturday afternoons at her kitchen table, just the two of us — black bread in the glowing toaster, a humming refrigerator that couldn’t be seen through its veil of family photographs. Over pumpernickel ends and Coke, she would tell me about her escape from Europe, the foods she had to eat and those she wouldn’t. It was the story of her life — “Listen to me,” she would plead — and I knew a vital lesson was being transmitted, even if I didn’t know, as a child, what that lesson was. I know, now, what it was.
“We weren’t rich, but we always had enough. Thursday we baked bread, and challah and rolls, and they lasted the whole week. Friday we had pancakes. Shabbat we always had a chicken, and soup with noodles. You would go to the butcher and ask for a little more fat. The fattiest piece was the best piece. It wasn’t like now. We didn’t have refrigerators, but we had milk and cheese. We didn’t have every kind of vegetable, but we had enough. The things that you have here and take for granted. . . . But we were happy. We didn’t know any better. And we took what we had for granted, too.
“Then it all changed. During the war it was hell on earth, and I had nothing. I left my family, you know. I was always running, day and night, because the Germans were always right behind me. If you stopped, you died. There was never enough food. I became sicker and sicker from not eating, and I’m not just talking about being skin and bones. I had sores all over my body. It became difficult to move. I wasn’t too good to eat from a garbage can. I ate the parts others wouldn’t eat. If you helped yourself, you could survive. I took whatever I could find. I ate things I wouldn’t tell you about.
“Even at the worst times, there were good people, too. Someone taught me to tie the ends of my pants so I could fill the legs with any potatoes I was able to steal. I walked miles and miles like that, because you never knew when you would be lucky again. Someone gave me a little rice, once, and I traveled two days to a market and traded it for some soap, and then traveled to another market and traded the soap for some beans. You had to have luck and intuition.
“The worst it got was near the end. A lot of people died right at the end, and I didn’t know if I could make it another day. A farmer, a Russian, God bless him, he saw my condition, and he went into his house and came out with a piece of meat for me.”
“He saved your life.”
“I didn’t eat it.”
“You didn’t eat it?”
“It was pork. I wouldn’t eat pork.”
“Why?”
“What do you mean why?”
“What, because it wasn’t kosher?”
“Of course.”
“But not even to save your life?”
“If nothing matters, there’s nothing to save.”
[Jonathan Safran Foer, Against Meat, https://www.nytimes.com/2009/10/11/magazine/11foer-t.html]