Parashat Re'eh: Kashrut? A Question for the Ages

 I can't recall if the following took place on a Boeing 737 or 757, but it was your typical charter flight-type of airplane.  I don't sit next to the window as I'm not particularly fond of heights (which is strange granted that I've been blessed to fly to numerous destinations) and I hadn't managed to secure the aisle seat.  I was therefore squashed in the middle of my row.  The one to the left of the single aisle that ran down the centre of the plane.

All was fine if I didn't need to stretch my legs or use the facilities.  Cruising at an altitude of 37,000 feet allows you to relax whilst praying that you don't have a child directly behind you kicking your seat for the entire journey.  If you've had that one answered, the next is the hope that it isn't a screaming baby instead.

Nestled relatively comfortably in my seat, my attention was drawn to the stewardess who asked me if I had requested a Kosher meal.  I answered in the affirmative and she then gave me the following:

·         a shrink-wrapped white plastic moulded tray which contained a foil covered cup containing 'orange juice'

·         a sealed plastic bag with cutlery, salt and ketchup along with a container that looked like a salad, but I couldn't be sure

·         something that resembled a chocolate muffin.

·         Finally, the pièce de résistance which consisted of a rectangular foil dish that was so hot, it could cause serious burns if it had to be handled for more than a few seconds. 

That was the easy part!

I was sitting there, boxed in on both sides by strangers whom I did not know.  I required the dexterity of a crew member of the International Space Station to be able to remove the plastic from the tray whilst simultaneously trying to unbuckle the cover from the steaming hot foil dish, all the while attempting to avoid nudging either neighbour in the process.  Retrieving the plastic cutlery was less challenging but when the top of the fork gave up the fight in a battle with trying to de-skin the over-cooked chicken, I knew that I was facing a losing battle.  Consuming the said fowl, utilising a miniature plastic knife and spoon, was not at all rewarding.  One really shouldn't feel a sense of relief when the meal is over but that's exactly the emotion that spread throughout my thoroughly stressed-out body.

My neighbour to my left looked at me and at the empty and scratched tray and I felt that I had to explain that I had ordered a 'Kosher' meal.

'What's that?' she enquired.  Oh boy.

Fortunately, it was a long flight but as I explained the various rules and regulations that we read in this week's Parasha, I really did wonder what she must have thought of this central tenet of Judaism.  The laws pertaining to Kashrut are classified under the heading of Chukim - Statutes.  Why can we eat a, b and c?  Because.  Why can't we eat x,y and z?  Because.  No explanation. 

It just is.

I can't provide a reason because we are not given one.  However, taking a closer look at the language the Torah uses to describe the different categories of animals, fish and birds that are either kosher or treif (the literal meaning of which is 'torn') perhaps gives a hint of Gd's rationale in proscribing our dietary laws (and by extension an explanation for my juggling act at 37,000 feet off the ground.)

Devarim: 14.19-20

All swarming, flying creatures are impure (‘Tamei’) for you: they may not be eaten.  You may however, eat any pure (‘Tahor’) flying creature.

In delineating whether an animal (or in this example, a bird) is permitted or prohibited, the Torah repeatedly uses the term Tahor or Tamei (and this is also the case in the earlier list in Parashat Shemini).  Incidentally, these are also the words used to describe the pairs of animals that entered Noah's ark.  Seven pairs of pure or in our parlance, Kosher animals, as opposed to a single pair of each set of non-kosher creatures (referred to as being Tamei).

The usage of Tahor and Tamei appears repeatedly in the Torah in another context concerning the spiritual purity of the Bnei Yisrael, particularly when it came to matters concerning the bringing of sacrifices to the Mishkan.  A person who had come into contact with a corpse or dead creature was not allowed to bring an offering until they had been purified.  They had to be Tahor, spiritually pure to partake in any religious worship.  This is why so many mikvaot have been unearthed through archaeological digs around the Har Habayit, the Temple Mount.  In fact, the entire structure of the Beit Hamikdash, both above and below ground, was predicated on it not being susceptible to becoming Tamei, an example of which was the work required by the Hasmoneans to banish the desecration caused by the Greeks.  Volumes of the Talmud are dedicated to discussing this issue, which we find very hard to fathom in the present day.

 Could this notion indicate a connection between the ancient rituals that our ancestors had to follow and our being given the laws of Kashrut? 

Numerous Rabbis known as 'The Rishonim' (living between the 11th and 15th centuries) such as the Rashbam (Rashi's Grandson, d.1158), the Rambam (d.1204) and the Abarbanel (d.1508) discuss this in great detail, looking at the idea from different angles but the crux of the matter focuses on how our inner beings are impacted by eating 'pure' or 'impure' food, both on a physical and spiritual plane (pun intended!)

Rabbi Shamshon Refael Hirsch (d.1888) describes how the human body resembles the Temples in respect of how meat from non-Kosher animals is detrimental to our bodies' ability to achieve its spiritual objectives.  Just as the Beit Hamikdash could not function as a House of Gd when it was not being operated in such a manner by the Jewish people, so our bodies become an example of the famous idiom of 'you are what you eat'.  He also notes that creatures that are pure are all herbivorous and in eating only kosher animals, fish and birds, we are able to sublimate the more animalistic or impure nature of our genetic makeup. 

It is also interesting to note that in recent times, during the various scares which involved the contamination of meat, for examples during the BSE outbreak in the 1990s, our Kosher butchers found themselves to be very popular amongst our non-Jewish neighbours who perceived Kosher meat as being 'cleaner', or as we could say 'purer' than that found in the general population.

If the idea that eating Kosher meat, fish or foul will result in our having more robust spiritual constitutions, this can only have a positive impact on us, individually and as a nation. Perhaps, that is the reason why Gd gave us those laws in the first place.

Shavuah Tov.

Parashat Va'Etchanan (Shabbat Nachamu): The Bigger Picture

 The first few verses in this week's Parasha always strike me as being some of the most poignant in the entire Torah.

Moshe Rabbeinu knows that he will not fulfil his lifelong dream of entering the Land of Israel.

He says:

At that time, I pleaded with the Lord: “O Lord, Gd.  You have begun to show Your servant Your greatness and Your mighty hand.  What forces in heaven or earth can do deeds and mighty acts like Yours?  Please let me cross over and see the good land beyond the Jordan, that good hill country and the Lebanon.”

I don't know of anybody who would not find these words so poignant as to be heart-breaking in many different ways.  Thinking back to everything Moshe had achieved for our nation.  All the 'tzarot' he'd had to endure from our ancestors and then some.

Now, in a plaintive voice, he is begging Gd to change His mind.

Gd's response seems surprisingly harsh:

 

But the Lord was enraged with me because of You, and would not listen to me.  "It is enough!" the Lord said to me.  "Never speak to Me about this again!  Go up to the top of Pisga and gaze around you to the west, to the north, to the south and to the east.  See it with your eyes, for you will not cross the Jordan.  But charge Yehoshua, make him strong and determined, for he will be the one to cross over at the head of this people and who will secure their possession of the land that you may only see."

On the pshat (simple) level, Moshe is blaming the people for his predicament, when he says:

"The Lord was enraged with me because of You."

Moshe was telling the people that they were to blame for his punishment.  Throughout the wanderings in the desert, time and again, the people angered Gd.  Moshe protected them from the wrath of the Almighty.  Two cases in point being in the aftermath of the Golden Calf and following the spies' report.

When he says, "At that time, I pleaded with the Lord." at the start of the Parasha, he was perhaps hoping that, on this occasion, they would stand up for him in a similar vein.  They could have said that they would refuse to enter the land without Moshe.  That protest was not forthcoming.  It seemed like the love he showed towards the people was not reciprocated when he needed them.

When it came to the relationship between Moshe and the people, it appears that it was not an equal partnership.  However, the opposite seems true regarding Moshe's relationship with Gd.

We are told that Gd spoke to Moshe as a man speaks to his neighbour.

 

Why would Gd then appear to be so unwavering when it came to answering Moshe's plea?

The Gemara (Brachot 54b) tells us that if a person prays at length, Gd will grant him a long life.  Had Gd allowed Moshe to keep on praying, instead of restricting his efforts by telling him that his prayers “were enough”, He would have had to lengthen Moshe's life, thus delaying the Bnei Yisrael's entry into the Land of Canaan.  Moshe's sin, for reasons that are not completely understood, merited his not being allowed to progress beyond the Jordan River.  Gd's focus at this point was in moving the Bnei Yisrael to the next phase in their development, which did not involve their current leader.  It could be said that He put their needs ahead of His most trusted servant.

That is a case of true love.  Additionally, because He knew how Moshe felt about the nation he had dedicated his life to, He provided an answer that appears to be unfair but in fact demonstrates the love that Hashem has for our people.  Despite their errors and frequent misdemeanours in the years following Yetziat Mitzrayim, the Exodus, He refused to abandon them. 

There is a story told about the man who prays for fifty years to win the lottery.  Every single week he buys a number of tickets, belongs to a syndicate and ploughs all of his spare cash into this project.  At the same time, he prays fervently that all of his efforts will lead to the kind of life he wishes to aspire to.  All to nought.  After fifty years, he's made very little money back on his investment.

One night, he screams out to Gd in frustration:

"Almighty Gd, I did everything I could to win.  I gave hundreds of thousands of pounds to good causes and I prayed to you with all of my might.  Why have never answered me?"

Later that night, Gd reveals himself in a dream and says:

"Yankele, you don't understand.  I did reply to you many times and the answer was always ‘No’”.

Just because we don't receive the answer we wish for, doesn't mean that Hashem has not responded to our prayers.  'No' is as valid a reply as 'Yes'.

Often, we feel as though we are wasting our time trying to do the right thing because we get very little appreciation for our efforts.  In doing so, we don't realise the impact that our actions can have on others.  No-one has ever complained about receiving a compliment or a 'thank you' for something they have done to help others.  The truth is that our reward is waiting for us when we reach 120 years and ascend to The Garden of Eden.  We may feel that we haven't reached our own ‘promised land’ or achieved the goals that we set for ourselves in our youth.  Just because we don't see these, does not mean that our efforts and hard work have not been successful.

'Man plans and Gd laughs' because only Hashem sees the bigger picture.  We believe that every human being's soul is tasked with their own unique missions and challenges that we need to complete during the span of our lives.  We don't necessarily know what these are, but if we help others, we are, without a doubt, carrying out His holy work. 

May Gd provide us with the strength and resilience to continue to play our part in continuing the work that our Biblical ancestors began so long ago.  If we see the impact of our efforts, that's wonderful and if we don't, it doesn't mean that He loves us any less than another person.  It's just that the Holy One, Blessed Be He, always sees 'The Bigger Picture'.

Shavuah Tov.

Parashat Devarim (Shabbat Chazon): We're Coming Home

I think that I speak for virtually every English person in this country and abroad (unless you're also German) in expressing my delight at the breathtaking and historic achievement that took place on Sunday at Wembley Stadium.  A huge mazel tov to the Lionesses as a result of becoming the football champions of Europe.  The ‘Beautiful Game’ has finally come home!

The ladies have faced an uphill struggle to gain recognition for Women’s Football, having overcome enormous challenges to reach this point.  I am certain that this will be the springboard to an exciting future for the sport across the country.

As Jews, we understand what it means to achieve something significant after negotiating barriers that seemed insurmountable.  Often, we constructed obstacles ourselves because of the short-term and thoughtless decisions our ancestors made.  Something that seemed right at that moment led us into unchartered waters, that changed the course of our history.  When we should have taken a turn, that would have greatly advanced our development, we balked and instead turned around, and ground to a halt.  On occasions, when we could have planted trees and benefitted from their fruit, instead we cut them down before they had a chance to grow.

Which is why tomorrow, on Tisha B'Av (the ninth of Av) which is without a doubt the saddest day in our annual calendar, we should be reflecting on the tragic ramifications of our decisions.  Were it not for it being Shabbat, we would be doing so, right now.

Moshe, our greatest leader, describes his frustration with the nation to whom he dedicated his adult life:

 

Deuteronomy 1:12 But how can I bear alone all your problems, your burdens, and your disputes?

דברים א׳:י״ב אֵיכָ֥ה אֶשָּׂ֖א לְבַדִּ֑י טׇרְחֲכֶ֥ם וּמַֽשַּׂאֲכֶ֖ם וְרִֽיבְכֶֽם׃

Chazal, our Sages ensured that, for this Parashah to have the most resonance, it had to be read on Shabbat Chazon, the Shabbat which precedes Tisha B'Av, when we recite the Megillah that shares its name with the first word of this verse.  Megillat Eichah or Lamentations initiates and then encapsulates the very essence of the day itself.

·         How could these events befall our people?

·         How do they continue to inform our past and help us make sense of our present?

·         How can they help us to forge our future?

Megillat Eichah is the first step on our journey in helping us to answer these questions.

It is five weeks before Moshe Rabbeinu (Moses our teacher) is about to mark his 120th birthday and reach heaven, but not Israel.  The man who vociferously argued with Gd against taking on the job of leading this problem-ridden, quarrelsome and argumentative nation out of Egypt, through the desert and into the land of Israel, is poised to deliver the three greatest oratories in the entire Tanach.  At the age of 119!

I am a teacher and have been for nearly fifteen years (actually more, but I took a break from formal education to learn how to become another kind of educator).  We know what it feels like to be teaching children at the end of the academic year.  What began back in September as an enthusiastic quest to mould young minds with inspirational and life-changing ideas, the like they had not hitherto experienced, feels like a distant dream by the time you stand in front of a class in mid to late July!

The children are frustrated and bored and 'smell the summer' air circulating around the classroom.  If you're fortunate, you have an air-conditioning unit to make life a little more palatable.  If you're not, you are spending tortuous hours with students who are wilting before your eyes.

If I, a simple teacher, am struggling to make it through a year without collapsing from fatigue, can you imagine what it must have been like for a person of the calibre of Moshe?  He carried not one but two generations through the desert.  He was responsible for the fate of millions of grumpy, stubborn and forlorn individuals.  A 'stiff-necked-people' who no less than Gd Himself wanted to wipe out numerous times.  Can you blame him for asking how he alone, can bear their difficult temperament?  Yet, here he is, nearly forty years on, refusing to give up on them.  Goading and inspiring them in equal measure.  Warning them of what would happen if they didn't heed his counsel and preparing them for the next chapter in their national development.  Five weeks shy of his 120th birthday and with the knowledge that after everything he had achieved, he would not be there to lead them into the Land.

If they had followed his advice, the only 'how' that we would have recited could be found in today's Parasha.

How could these events have befallen our people?  Because when our teacher spoke, our minds were not focussed on his words.  We were thinking about the forthcoming summer.  Had we listened, we would not have spent many years living through an endless winter.  Our 'classrooms' would have been visions of a rosy future where the spiritual air-conditioning would reinvigorate us and bring about the coming of Moshiach.

It didn't happen.

Years passed and the memory of our Temples faded into our national subconscious.  How blessed we were to live under Jewish sovereignty which lasted less than eight decades (seventy under the reigns of the first Commonwealth of Kings David and Solomon and seventy-seven under the Second Commonwealth of the Hasmoneans).  Empires rose and fell.  Expulsions and Inquisitions came and went and finally we witnessed the Shoah in living memory.

Eichah?

How could this be?

How could this have happened?

Does Tisha B'Av make more sense now?

And then, seventy-four years ago, we were given a third bite of the Jewish cherry.

It has lasted longer than the fifty-six years between England's footballing victories.  Our third Jewish Commonwealth, despite all the existential internal and external challenges it faces, is stronger than ever.  Tomorrow is Tisha B'Av and we will start fasting a short while before Shabbat ends.  But, like our fellow footballing citizens, we always hope for a way to turn national mourning into international jubilation.

For Moshe, despite his experiences, never gave up on us.  He knew that he would not make it through to September but his successor, Joshua would be there to lead the new class into their next phase.  Moshe Rabbeinu endowed us with his final gift, the Mishne Torah - the repetition of the Torah that we also call Sefer Devarim. 

At this juncture, with our current situation, we must ensure that we don't 'give up on us'.

Baddiel and Skinner's anthemic refrain of 'It's Coming Home' has held our national morale aloft long after the floodlights on the pitch have been shut down.  Eventually, football came home and we too await the time when Tisha B'Av will be the day when we can celebrate the final redemption because our own refrain can only be : 'We're coming home'.

May it happen speedily in our days.

Shabbat Shalom.