Sheminí 5776 - English

Rabbi Gustavo Kraselnik

Congregacion Kol Shearith Israel

Chapter 11 of Vayikra (Leviticus) that concludes Parashat Shemini contains a series of laws related to which animals can be eaten and which cannot.  This passage, along with a similar one from Devarim (Deuteronomy Chapter 14), constitutes the basis of the Kashrut laws that define Jewish diet.  

The word Kasher (also known as Kosher) has a biblical origin even though it is not related to food.  A few days ago in the celebration of Purim, we read in the Book of Esther (8:5): “And she said: If it pleases the King and if he regards me with favor and thinks it the right (Kasher) thing to do…”  The sages in the Mishnah start using this word to refer to things that are right according to the laws of the Torah or to indicate something that is ritually pure, and therefore allowed, including food.

The Torah does not specify a reason why we need to observe these rules, and there are those who may say these are divine orders and there is no need to find reason in them; however, throughout the centuries many different explanations have arisen to understand the logic behind these rules.  

One of the best known (and I would add one of the most incorrect ones) claims these are hygienic sanitary rules, because the prohibition to eat certain animals avoided some diseases and public health issues.  

Beyond the inaccuracy of this affirmation (it is true it could be applied to a couple of examples but it does not explain most of the Kashrut laws or its omissions), the corollary is that today with stricter sanitary controls, the Kashrut would be unnecessary.  

Philo of Alexandria and Maimonides a thousand years later (who also referenced the hygienic reason behind the Kashrut), explained it through the search for self-control.  To recognize that there are things I can eat and things I cannot.  Instinct might lead to the usual responses: exacerbation (to eat without restraint) or its annulment (to give up the pleasure of eating and ingest only the minimum to survive).  Jewish tradition aspires to find a middle ground between both extremes, to find pleasure in food but to recognize there are limits to what we eat.  

Another interpretation comes from the end of our Parashah (Lev. 11:44): “For I the Lord am your God: you shall sanctify yourselves and be holy, for I am holy.”  Also, from the passage that speaks about the same issue in Deuteronomy (14:21): “You shall not eat anything that has died a natural death; give it to the stranger in your community to eat, or you may sell it to a foreigner. For you are a people consecrated to the Lord your God. You shall not boil a kid in its mother's milk”

As you can see, the key term in holiness, meaning that the way we eat gives testimony of our aspiration to become holy.  Something as routine as eating, a physiological need, an act that makes us so similar to animals, has the potential of being transformed into something holy, through our reflection and by understanding there is a responsibility in what I am eating.  

Personally, I find a lot of meaning in this approach.  It presents important aspects regarding holiness, not only in what we eat, but in the way it was produced (for example, the way the company treats its workers) or in the implications it has for the environment (Kashrut and ecology should go hand in hand).  

Many other interpretations have been provided, some better than others.  Indisputably -and in that sense I believe there is added value that many contemporaries have yet to discover- the Kashrut is also a fundamental part of Jewish identity.  I express my belonging to the Jewish people by following millenary rules that at the same time help inspire my desire to live a life of meaning.   

What better example of the relevance of tradition.

Shabbat Shaom

Gustavo