The Hidden Meaning of Keeping Kosher? Parasha Shemini/5782

 

In one of our most beloved prayers at Friday night services, Ahavat Olam, we sing the following: “Torah u-mitzvoth, chukim u-mishpatim, otanu limadetah” – “You teach us torah, mitzvoth, chukim and mishpatim”. We all know what torah and mitzvoth are! “Torah” in this prayer stands for all of Jewish learning, not just Bible learning. Mitzvoth, of course, are the good deeds that govern our behavior. “Chukim” and “Mishpatim” are subsets of “Mitzvoth”. Mishpatim are the Mitzvoth for whose reasons are readily understood.  For example,“You shall not murder”, or mitzvoth that enjoin us to take care of the poor and needy in our society – without these “mishpatim”, these laws, society cannot function. “Chukim” are the laws that, as Rashi puts it, are like “decrees from a King”. No society would think to implement these laws unless they came from an absolute ruler. An example of this kind of law is found in this week’s Torah portion.

Without attempting to justify or elaborate, our parasha this week gives a lengthy list of foods which are Kosher and those which are not. Since very early in our history, Kashrut laws have been at the very center of our heritage.  The Rabbis classified these laws as "Chukim", laws that had to be obeyed although they transcend human understanding. Why, for example, if G-d is the Creator of All, and pronounced all of Creation “good” does G-d prohibit Jews from eating some animals? God doesn’t want His people to enjoy shrimp? Can God not suffer the messiness of seeing His Chosen struggling to  extract lobster meat from its shell? The issue is complicated by the fact that the Torah gives no rational reason for the laws of Kashrut. It is like the decree of a King, or the rules of a parent to a toddler – “do it because I say so”. 

The fact that no reasons are given for the laws of kashrut has not stopped Jews throughout the ages from attempting to discover some rationale behind them. One method of understanding kashrut was to allegorize, or understand the kosher laws symbolically.  For example, the Torah only permits us to eat fish with scales and fins. The rabbis of the Talmud noted that scales protect the body of the fish. They are like the fish’s armor, so to speak.  Thus they represent the quality of integrity, that which keeps the human being from falling prey to the many moral pitfalls that life presents. 

The fins propel a fish forward. The fins represent the human drive for achievement, the impulse to make ourselves better, to build our lives, and to make a better world. 

Therefore, one way to understand the commandment to only eat fish with scales and fins is that God wants us to constantly be aware that integrity must always be paired with our drive to accomplish things in this world. A person with ambition but without integrity might become successful, but might achieve that success through “unkosher” ways. A person with integrity but without ambition will never reach their spiritual potential in this world.

To paraphrase  the English poet Samuel Johnson:

"Integrity without [ambition] is weak and useless, and [ambition] without integrity is dangerous and dreadful.”

One danger to this type of inquiry is that we might think that once we have understood the lesson that the law is trying to teach us, we no longer need to follow the law! In fact, one of the earliest Christian writings, the Epistle of Barnabus, concludes that the point of the dietary laws is not to refrain from eating certain foods, it is to teach us ethical and moral values. The laws were never meant to be observed literally, Barnabus claims. Therefore, those Jews who actually observe the laws are misguided.

Ultimately, Jews will choose to follow all of the laws of kashrut, some of the laws of kashrut, or none of the laws of kashrut for their own reasons and own rationales. It is interesting to note that the Torah provides only one reason for following the laws of Kashrut – “I am the Lord your God”. In the words of the 19th century German rabbi and thinker, Samson Raphael Hirsch, “You should observe the commandments of the Torah and have regard for its laws, because they are at God’s behest, not because you think them correct. Even those commandments whose reason you believe you have understood, you should not fulfill because of your understanding, for then you would be listening only to yourself, whereas you should listen to God [alone]”

Shabbat Shalom

Photo by Gregor Moser on Unsplash

The First Bat Mitzvah/Parasha Tzav

                                                                                                                                                                                                                   My friend and colleague, Rabbi Linda Targan,                                                recently published a memoir on becoming a female rabbi. 

This Shabbat we are celebrating the Bat Mitzvah of Sofia Immergluck. Coincidentally, This Shabbat, March 18, 2022, also marks the 100th anniversary of the very first bat mitzvah that took place here in the United States. On Shabbat morning, March 18, 1922, Judith Kaplan, daughter of Rabbi Mordechai Kaplan, stood before the congregation and chanted the text from the Torah portion of the week.  Her synagogue, the Society for the Advancement of Judaism was on West 86th Street in New York City.  This first Bat Mitzvah was different from what Sofia will do tomorrow. Sofia will chant directly from the Torah scroll. She will chant from the Prophetic portion for the week. Sofia will give a speech - a “devar torah” that she wrote analyzing the Torah and Haftorah and connecting it to her own life. And she will  help lead our services – all, of course, up here, on the bima. 

In 1922, Twelve-year-old Judith Kaplan stood below the bima, on the floor of the sanctuary. The Torah scroll was in sight, but covered. She was not allowed to touch the scroll. Judith chanted the blessing before reading the Torah, then read the Torah text out loud, first in Hebrew and then in English. She read from her own personal chumash  which she held in her hand.  She then chanted the blessing after reading the Torah. That was her bat mitzvah ceremony. No lavish dance party afterward. No themes. No flood of gifts. 

As brief and as limited as this bat mitzvah was, it was still an auspicious beginning on several levels. No girl had ever had a bat mitzvah before! In Jewish law, a girl reaches the age of maturity at 12 and a boy at 13. We mark the occasion of a boy reaching legal maturity with a bar mitzvah. But, prior to Judith Kaplan’s bat mitzvah, no girl had  bat  a bat mitzvah ritual to mark this milestone. Her father, Mordechai Kaplan, had intended his daughter’s bat mitzvah as the beginning step of  a movement in Judaism to give females equal status to that of males in Jewish ritual life. He sought to encourage the education of  girls so that as grown women   that they could teach their own children about Judaism.  As you can imagine some people had a difficult time accepting this modern and rather revolutionary  idea.  As an adult Judith Kaplan later recalled, “[My bat mitzvah] was enough to shock a lot of people including my own grandparents and aunts and uncles.”

It took a long time for the idea of a bat mitzvah to catch on. The Reform Movement developed  “Confirmation'' in which young men and women marked the conclusion of their formal synagogue education in a group ceremony at the age of 15. It wasn’t until the late 1960’s when the bat mitzvah became widespread in Conservative synagogues. Today the bat mitzvah is an important ritual in both Reform and Conservative synagogues as well. 

The “bat mitzvah” has also slowly been adopted by Centrist or Modern Orthodoxy. Today in these communities boys and girls are given the same kind of rigorous Jewish education.  In addition, in many Orthodox communities today the coming of age of a  girl  is marked by her delivering a drasha, or speech, to the community on the Shabbat morning following her 12th birthday. This teaching is the culmination of intense study over a  long period of time and  offers an opportunity to share her insights and wisdom publicly. In other Orthodox communities the bat mitzvah is allowed to read from the Torah in a service attended by women only. 

As bat mitzvahs became the norm in Conservative synagogues in the 1960’s the Conservative Movement began to grapple with  another central issue in Judaism – the  issue of women’s participation in services.  In traditional Judaism women are exempt from the obligation of attending and participating in religious services. This was the obligation of a man alone. But did it make sense  that a girl could be called to the Torah for her bat mitzvah, but the following week she could not be given an aliyah because she was a woman? This question  opened up yet another transformative development in Judaism –   the increased participation of women in ritual life. 

In 1972 Sally Priesand was the first American woman ordained as a Rabbi  by the Reform Movement, and in 1985 the Conservative Movement ordained Amy Eilberg as its first female rabbi. More recently,  we have seen a small number of women  ordained as rabbis through Modern Orthodox seminaries. 

The importance of what female clergy bring to Jewish life – whether they are rabbis or cantors – must not be underestimated. In a 2018 book exploring women in the clergy, Benjamin R. Knoll and Cammie Jo Bolin showed that women who grew up with female clergy had higher levels of self-esteem as adults. They also had lower levels of depression and anxiety. This research also shows that women who grew up with female clergy were more successful in developing relationships, had higher job satisfaction and were more  motivated for personal improvement than women who did not have a female clergyperson growing up. Women whose most influential youth congregational leader was female were more likely to be employed full-time as adults and had, on average, one year more of higher education than other women.

In our parasha for this Shabbat we read about the ordination of Aaron and his sons as priests in the Tabernacle. In Biblical times only males were ordained as religious officials. There were a number of female prophets in the Bible, but no female was allowed to become a priest and serve in the Temple. This reflects the patriarchal structure of society in which men held all of the religious and political power. 

Today, fortunately, much has changed. More than 1500 women have been ordained as rabbis around the world in the last 50 years. Women rabbis hold senior leadership positions in many synagogues, and women rabbi-scholars teach in rabbinic seminaries and in some cases head  rabbinic schools. Rabbi Hara Person, President and CEO of the Reform Movement’s Central Conference of American Rabbis, and herself a woman, estimates that today one half of the active rabbis in this country are female. And this does not even take into account the enormous influence and contributions that female cantors have played in American Jewish life. 

I started this sermon with an account of the first American bat mitzvah and have focused on the transformative  effect of women in the American Rabbinate. But the first woman  Rabbi ordained in modern times was not ordained in America. Her name is Rabbi Regina Jonas. Rabbi Jonas studied at a rabbinical seminary in Berlin in the early 1930s. As  part of her appeal to the Board of Directors that she be ordained, she wrote a thesis titled, “Can a Woman Be a Rabbi According to Jewish Law?” In her thesis she explored the Bible, the Talmud, and rabbinic literature and concluded that a woman could indeed be ordained a rabbi according to Jewish Law. The Board of Directors of the seminary disagreed and would not ordain her. She was privately ordained in Berlin in 1935 and is widely considered to be the first female rabbi. She perished in Auschwitz in 1944. 

Rabbi Regina Jonas was interviewed by a German Newspaper in June, 1938. Recalling her groundbreaking journey to become a rabbi, she said, “God has placed abilities and callings in our hearts, without regard to gender. Thus each of us has the duty, whether man or woman, to realize those gifts God has given.”

To that we can all say, “Amen”

Shabbat Shalom

Mental Health Shabbat/Parasha Ki Tissa

As we approach the 2-year anniversary of life with COVID, mental health statistics    reflect that the pandemic has had a profound impact on our minds, bodies, hearts, and souls. Depression, suicidal ideation, and anxiety have all increased among adults, adolescents and children. Appallingly nearly 25% of individuals who have a mental health illness report not receiving the treatment that they need.

Dr. Biana Kotlyar Castro is a psychiatrist, who specializes in electroconvulsive therapy, and is a consultation-liaison services   Dr. Castro highlighted the challenges of treating people with mental illness at the High Holiday services of Congregation Knesset Israel in Elgin this year.  She gives a moving description of her work: “I see patients, people at some of their lowest points in their lives. They are struggling and suffering from an unbearable burden. I wish more than anything that I could help quickly and completely. But the truth is, despite how far medications and biological treatments have come in the last couple decades for psychiatry, we cannot heal with these treatments alone. It’s a long road and even when psychiatric symptoms do lessen, the aftermath of the experience is often devastating. Patients must mend relationships that suffered, somehow find a way to return to work or school, many have significant consequences that they must deal with while often still in recovery. It’s a hard, uphill road to travel and often takes a long time, consistent effort and support from their village. Dr. Castro continues, despite how far we have come and what we know about the brain-mind connection, neurocircuitry and neurotransmitters; there are still people that believe mental illness is a moral failing or weakness. This couldn’t be further from the truth. Those who have dealt with mental illness are some of the toughest and strongest people I know,” she writes. 

Dr. Castro brings up the issue of shame which often follows people with mental health issues. Perhaps that is why few people seek out their Rabbis to talk about their struggles with mental health. We receive calls from friends, relatives and others telling us that someone is in the hospital with a physical illness. Yet we do not hear when people are suffering from debilitating depression or anxiety, from an eating disorder or obsessive-compulsive disorder. We hear about the birth of a baby but not about the mother who is suffering from postpartum depression. We hear about someone diagnosed with cancer but not someone diagnosed with bipolar disorder. As Jessica Evans, a blogger for the Jerusalem Post who identifies herself as a person who has mental illnesses writes, “You do not often see care committees focusing resources to help those struggling with horrible symptoms stuck at home or overwhelmed. There are no cards or brisket or challah sent over. No phone calls, just checking in or encouraging one to keep going.”

Let us not forget that our Bible is full of prophets and leaders who suffer from anxiety and depression. Perhaps the first person in the Torah who clearly suffers from depression is Rachel, Jacob’s wife. She sees her sister, Leah, giving birth to four children, yet she has not been able to get pregnant. She is envious of her sister and distraught about her situation. Her desperation to have a child leads her to plead with her husband, “Give me children, or I shall die.” Unfortunately, she does not get the support and understanding from her husband she needs to cope with her sadness. Rather, Jacob, her husband, answers with anger and impatience. He responds, “Am I God who prevents you from having children?” 

The Book of Samuel describes King Saul, the first king of Israel, as suffering from “ruach ra-ah” after he is told by the prophet Samuel that he would no longer be king. Rabbi Abravanel, a medieval commentator, describes “ruach ra-ah” as “melancholia, an illness in which sorrow, severe anxiety over one’s fate, and depression replace imagination and the ability to concentrate”. Meiri, another commentator, defines “ruach ra-ah” as hallucinations from which one flees madly. The Rambam defines it as “depression, where a person prefers to be isolated in a dark room.” In another writing the Rambam, Moshe Maimonides, calls mental illness “marah shehorah”, bitter darkness, and suggests treating it with music and walks in the garden or around beautiful buildings.

Perhaps the most well-known prophet in the Bible is Elijah the Prophet. We invite him into our homes during the Passover seder. We set aside a special seat for him at a bris. We invoke his name at Havdalah. 

In the Bible we meet him as a prophet in Northern Israel who fights against idolatry. He flees from the Queen of Northern Israel, who threatens to kill him. Exhausted, he journeys south to the Wilderness of the Sinai and finds rest under a broom tree. There, broken and depleted, he asks God to take his life. He feels he has been a complete failure. He has lost his will to live. He cannot go on. Despite his heroic efforts, he says, the Israelites have forsaken the God of Israel and have turned to idolatry. Judaism, he feels, has no future. He alone remains faithful to the Covenant, and he is the last of his kind. 

Elijah wants to give in to his depression, to be alone in the wilderness, to give up eating, to sleep and not wake up. But Elijah gets help. An angel comes to him, touches him, prepares him food, urges him to eat. Elijah does recover and returns to Northern Israel to continue his fight against idolatry. 

Rachel, King Saul, Elijah the prophet, and many other Biblical figures – including Moses – suffer from serious mental health issues in their lifetimes. But their illnesses do not prevent them from living full lives and making vital contributions to the Jewish people. Rabbi Nachman, the great grandson of the Baal Shem Tov who died in 1810, famously said “The world is a narrow bridge – do not be afraid”. Rabbi Nachman experienced intense swings of mood during his lifetime. Although he emphasized living life with joy and happiness, he also taught that one could find God even when one was emotionally low. Rabbi Nachman advised, “Struggle with your sadness. Struggle with your soul … the point is not to rid oneself of struggle, but to accept it as a condition of being human”.

When people do struggle with their sadness, and struggle with their souls, it is important that they do not do so alone. Like the angel that reached out and touched Elijah, fed Elijah, and comforted Elijah, we too must not leave the person struggling with mental illness to struggle with it alone. Rabbi Nachman teaches us that, like physical illness, mental illness is part of being human. It is nothing to be ashamed of. In being open about the struggles of Biblical figures, our religion is telling us that we must stop hiding our own struggles from the view of others or from ourselves. We must be the angels that lift them up, remind them we are there for them, encourage them to get professional help. We must be the angels that are patient and loving and compassionate with them and that, above all, do not get angry with them. 

Let those who are suffering in our congregation, and those who love them, hear this prayer: 

May the One who blessed our ancestors —

Who named us Israel (Yisrael), those who “struggle,"

Bless and heal those among us who struggle with mental well-being.

May they acknowledge their own strength and resilience in persevering,

May they treat themselves with forgiveness and patience,

May they find others who share their experiences,so they know they are not alone,

May they find help, compassion and resources when they are able to reach out for them,

May they find others willing to reach out first when they cannot,

And may they find inclusive and welcoming communities that will uplift and celebrate them.

May the Holy One grant us the strength and resilience to support our loved ones,

May we find the patience and forgiveness we need for ourselves and others,

May we find solidarity and support from other caregivers,

May we find the capacity to listen without judgment and with the intention to help when asked,

May we find the ability to notice when others are struggling and reach out to them first,

And may we create communities that accept, support and keep company   with those among us who are struggling.

Let us say, AMEN.

Mi Sheberach Prayer