2021/5781
It is important to note that despite my best efforts to explain the nature of why Kashrut exists, I am limited in my ability to do so simply because Kashrut is, invariably, a Chok, which cannot be entirely understood according to human reason. Nevertheless, I will attempt to best present rational explanations behind the commandment and symbolism of Kashrut, albeit within my own mortal and finite capacities.
It is interesting to note that whereas the previous two Parashiyot have dealt near-solely with issues of the Mishkan itself, Parashat Shemini immediately presents a standard Parashah structure of introducing an episode that occurs to Am Yisrael - more specifically to Aharon as a result of his sons, Nadav and Avihu’s death - and a set of commands by Hashem that become codified among the Taryag Mitzvot. Yet, there are troubling questions that appear despite Shemini’s style: What possible connection could the death of Nadav and Avihu possibly have to the commands of Kashrut; and what do the laws of Kashrut as a blanket set of commandments teach about humanity and the nature of Halachah?
In the second Pasuk of the 11th Perek, Hashem already begins introducing the concept of Kashrut by stating: “Dabru El Bnei Yisrael Leimor Zot HaChayah Asher Tochelu MiKol HaBeheimah Asher Al HaAretz,” “Speak to the children of Israel, saying: These are the creatures that you may eat among all the animals on earth” (VaYikra 11:2). Per Rashi, it would appear that the word “Zot” - translated most closely as this or these - expresses that Moshe had displayed each animal to Bnei Yisrael, declaring each to be fit or unfit for consumption from that point forward. Yet it is difficult to ascertain why Moshe needed to do this? As it may be easily reasoned, it would have been far simpler to specify exactly those which were permitted and prohibited, respectively. To this, we call attention to an interesting treatise of Maimonidean scholarship, per the guidance of Rav Yosef Dov Soloveitchik (MiPeninei HaRav, pp. 194-195). Rambam (Hilchot Ma’achlot Asurot, 2:12) writes that in the event someone eats an insect simultaneously originating from the water, ground, and air, he would be Chayav three separate infractions punishable by three separate Malkot as a result. This is troubling since, per Ra’avad’s observation (HaSagot HaRa’avad Al Mishneh Torah, Hilchot Ma’achlot Asurot, 2:12), there are no existent species of insect, and thus Rambam must be mistaken in his taxonomy. Rambam, according to the Rav, however, is well aware of this paradox, and in fact, uses it to his advantage. From the strict standpoint of classification by genus, Ra’avad is correct; yet simply based on the deception of the human eye and brain, certain insects may indeed appear as if they originate in the exact manner Rambam prescribes. Thus, the visual display of all Kosher and non-Kosher species according to Moshe Rabbeinu’s demonstration was, in fact, indicative of the Halachic reality that we base our decisions on perception rather than biological fact when the situation warrants it. [1] From this understanding of Kashrut, it may be concluded that we derive standards of acceptability simply based upon appearances. If this were the case, however, there would likely be a widespread disregard for actual Kashrut; such a lax standard would lead one to conclude that Kashrut seems to be driven more by the urges of the body than by exercising of the mind. This, as we know, is far from the truth.
The mere possibility of Kashrut being a subjective commandment that is regulated by the inner emotional drives of the mind certainly raises some very problematic questions to answer. However, Kashrut is, due to its status as a Chok, a far cry from the realm of subjectivity that regulates its enforcement. Instead, Kashrut, though still a Chok nonetheless, possesses impactful meaning and insights into the realm of Halachah, itself objective and immutable. Halachah is, after all, not simply a statement of what is and how it must be, but what can and should be. Halachah, in the traditional Brisker sense of Rav Soloveitchik (see Halakhic Man for further reading), provides the perfect blend of subjectivity and objectivity to the concrete world of cognitive man, thus bringing the world closer to what it should be. In this sense, then, Kashrut should, as we will note, distinguish itself from the hazardous realm of mere subjective reality and be shown as a yearning for the objective truth.
At the very conclusion of the Parashah, we, the reader, are reintroduced to the concepts of Kashrut, albeit with a shifting focus not only on the permissible species but on the nature of what constitutes an acceptable animal within a normally Kosher species. “LeHavdil Bein HaTamei U’Bein HaTahor U’Bein HaChayah HaNe’echelet U’Bein HaChayah Asher Lo Tei’Achel,” “to distinguish between the unclean and the clean, and between the animal that may be eaten and the animal that may not be eaten” (VaYikra 11:47). This Pasuk already bespeaks a lot, indicating that at the core of Kashrut, is a distinction between that which is both clean/acceptable to eat, and the converse. Yet, there is a subtle and easily glanced over parallel which the Rav (Festival of Freedom, p. 137) draws upon from this Pasuk which helps us to greater appreciate the nature of Kashrut despite its restrictions. While many Perakim in the Torah deal with dietary laws, only a single Pasuk mentions Tefillah: “VeHayah Im Shamo’a Tishme’u El Mitzvotai Asher Anochi Mitzaveh Etchem HaYom LeAhavah Et Hashem Elokeichem U’LeAvdo BeChol Levavchem U’BeChol Nafshichem,” “If, then, you obey the commandments that I enjoin upon you this day, loving Hashem and serving Him with all your heart and soul” (Devarim 11:13). Why is this the case? Because it is easier for man to pray than to withdraw from food he desires. It is banally asserted that “man is ready to serve God spiritually, yet resents interference with his eating habits or with the manner in which he gratifies physical or carnal needs” (such as the observance of Shabbat, Hilchot Niddah, or Shomer Negiah). [2] Modern man does not object to the worship of God or participation in flashy ceremonials, nor does he object to the ceremonial singing or his own presence in a sanctuary. Yet, he simultaneously disdains the existence of, and being told that there are, “laws which guide him concerning behavior not of the spirit, but of his body.” Without disciplining the body, one cannot inspire the spirit - that is the Torah’s philosophy.
Hilchot Kashrut belongs to the category of discipline of the body which forbids overindulgence in the satisfaction of human corporeal needs and drives. It is not a rejection of the body, as may be understood by other religions and their respective sects, such as certain strands of Christian tradition. It is, in fact, the exact opposite. The body and spirit - which we may, for purposes of oversimplification refer to as being equatable to the mind in this instance - are both equally components of man. Yet the Torah presents man, in these commandments, with a stark rebuke to recognize the savagery and inhumanity of such behavior. The body should, if it wishes to be sanctified and elevated in this world - as that is the goal of any Ish HaHalakhah - must be capable of exercising restraint from certain actions which only promise corporeal and temporary, fleeting pleasure if it wishes to better serve God. Thus, Kashrut, in essence, stands as the greatest reminder to Judaism that what foods enter the body is equally as important to the various organs which process them as the experiences of life are to the approximately 86 billion neurons that comprise the human body as a whole. Much like the philosophy of Korbanot, concerning the shedding of one’s Nefesh HaBehemit, Kashrut is, in itself, an exercise of truly higher-order neural processing, reminding the mind, that despite the pleasure received by that one McNugget or piece of bacon, it stands to only further destroy the lofty and exalted image of what it means to be human and to exercise one’s mind to its fullest extent and capacity. We are, however, perhaps left unsatisfied still with this approach, as we have not yet addressed the nature of what permits the eating of meat, in contrast to vegetarianism or veganism, for this practice is, historically/anthropologically speaking, found distinctly among predatory animals; and yet it is also found among humans, who are, after all, simply a higher animal. Additionally, there is still the issue of how this relates to the incident of Nadav and Avihu’s untimely deaths, which provokes the question of what truly distinguishes the behavior of Kohanim such as the former two, and acceptable offerings to Hashem.
In addressing the former issue, we may use two insightful and complementary approaches to resolve the issue of “Why not vegetarianism/veganism?” Understanding that the instinctual desire to consume meat would always be present, even perhaps engendering an eventual non-distinction between flesh that is consumable because it is of man, beast, or fowl. Man’s desire for flesh, despite “culture,” will eventually provoke his nature and force him to resort to the consumption of any flesh, and by any means. In essence, Rav Avraham Yitzchak Kook (Otzerot HaRe’iyah, pp. 88-92) suggests that in recognition of this, the Torah allows the consumption of flesh. That is why, even according to the Torah, there are standards of Shechitah which must be followed, which serve to remind the consumer of the still-animalistic practice with which he is engaging in despite his cultured mind (see Sefer HaMitzvot HaKatzar, Mitzvot Asei 48-49 for further reading). Yet, according to Rambam (Moreh Nevuchim 3:48), the animals which we are permitted to consume are, interestingly enough, those most suitable for the human body. [3] Ramban (VaYikra 11:13, s.v. VeEt Eileh Tishaketzu Min HaOf) on the other hand, sees the permission to be not those most suitable for the body, but for the soul. Regarding the Kashrut of birds, birds of prey can never be deemed Kosher because of their common behavior to other animals, reflecting the Torah’s ethic of not introducing cruelty of behavior like the animal consumed into the consumer as well. Thus, it is understood that Kashrut, in application to the consumption of animals, is seen as a much-needed escape from the workings of the mind alone. The mind can tell the body not to pursue and consume flesh for only so long, and thus the Torah has created a Siyag, a fence, around the mind to better preserve it from deterioration while simultaneously promoting its enlightenment.
Finally, we arrive back at our initial question as to how Nadav and Avihu play into these commandments. The Pasuk very clearly notes that the fire-pans they brought as offerings to Hashem were, “Asher Lo Tziva Otam” (VaYikra 10:1). What truly undergirds their demise, however, is not simply that they brought the fires, but that they did so of their own accord, with full knowledge of their not being prescribed to do so (Da’at Zekeinim, ibid., s.v. Eish Zarah Asher Lo Tziva Otam). What the brothers failed to recognize was that despite their urge to serve Hashem and show their allegiance and worth to Him, they did so under the influence of their emotional and primal urges. Much like the individuals who, in the eyes of the Rav, are more than willing to serve God in every way including restriction of their bodily selves, Nadav and Avihu’s failure to exercise mental control over themselves - preventing them from this transgression - ultimately warranted their death. One need not fear or resent one’s biology in light of the commandments of Kashrut, for as Rav Jonathan Sacks, ZT”L, quotes of the cognitive psychologist Steven Pinker: “Nature does not dictate what we should accept or how we should live,” adding, “and if my genes don’t like it they can go jump in the lake.” [4] Kashrut, should we accept it, reminds us that we are not entirely dictated by our minds and bodies, but enjoy the wonderful ability to shape, care for, and influence them. And much like the essence of Halachah, we recognize that we sometimes are slaves to the concrete, cognitive and emotional realm of the material world we live in. Kashrut, when accepted, demonstrates how we can aid the mind in beating the body at its own game.
[1] A practical application of this concept commonly found in modern Halachic context is the Talmudic concept of Batel BeShishim.
[2] As the famous philosopher Thomas Nagel once wrote: “It isn't just that I don't believe in God and, naturally, hope that I'm right in my belief. It’s that I hope there is no God! I don’t want there to be a God; I don’t want the universe to be like that” (The Last Word, p. 130). Most notably, Nagel’s atheism is seemingly inspired by the desire to be free of the thought of God’s control over one’s life. Though this idea is found in certain religions, it is arguably not qualitatively found within the realm of Machshavah, Jewish thought. We are instead thrilled to serve Hashem. For example, on Shabbat we say “Yismechu BeMalchutecha Shomerei Shabbat V’Kore’ei Oneg.”
[3] This assertion may be subject to debate, as the medically suggestive positions of Rambam in his philosophical work the Moreh Nevuchim do not always hold validity in the modern world of medicine.
[4] Steven Pinker, How the Mind Works, p. 54; quoted by Rabbi Sacks in Essays on Ethics, p. 157.