Rabbi Konigsburg's Blog

This past week, someone pointed out to me that it is quite odd that children push back against activities that seem natural and instinctual. Consider the time spent trying to cajole a child to eat a healthy meal, coax a child to use the bathroom, or even persuade a child to go to sleep! Eating, going to the bathroom, and sleeping seem like such basic needs for all living creatures; it is indeed noteworthy that children resist these activities so strongly. My inclination is that they push back against these things because, while the activities are natural, we ask them to do them in an unnatural way. We tell them that they must eat certain healthy foods when they might prefer something else. They would rather go to the bathroom whenever they choose, but we suggest they do it before we get in the car. We give them a bedtime and teach good sleep hygiene, when they would rather continue to stay up and have fun. Surely, all these things are natural for creatures to do, but we insist that they do them in a specific way. From an adult perspective, these things make sense; they are worth doing appropriately – though for the growing human being, it is a little harder to process.

Modern humans have a similar experience when it comes to the dietary restrictions encountered in this week’s Torah portion. Parshat Shmini details the rules of kashrut, specifying that sea animals need fins and scales, land animals must chew their cud and have split hooves, that creepy crawlers are not to be consumed, and that only select birds are Kosher. But like toddlers who resist being told what to do, the modern Jew asks, why? Since the Torah doesn’t provide a definitive answer, commentators have offered many reasons, including promoting health, unifying the Jewish community, exemplifying an ethical and moral approach to eating, and even simple obedience to God's command. Yet perhaps there is something even more fundamental going on here.

By the very act of setting boundaries around what we eat, we transform the consumption of nutrients into a holy action. We bring a level of mindfulness to what we eat in a way that helps us transcend our natural selves. Like a toddler who must overcome impulsiveness for the sake of better hygiene and discipline, a person who adheres to dietary restrictions similarly controls their impulses for a higher purpose. And while value is placed on the traditions that connect us to earlier generations, the specific details about fins and scales, or split hooves and chewed cuds, become secondary. Rather, by keeping a Kosher diet, we affirm that we have the potential to transcend our basic impulses and that we can live with more intention. By following these dietary laws, we join a historical community that has similarly striven to make the act of eating more meaningful.

Shabbat Shalom