I
remember a commercial that used to be on television for acid
reflux medicine. In it, the waiter shared the dinner specials
and everyone seemed intrigued except for the one guy at the
table who gets heartburn. He didn’t hear the waiter’s
elaborate description of the delicious food. Instead, he imagined
the waiter describing how it would melt the buttons off his
shirt and burn his esophagus. When I hear the specials in a
restaurant, it’s not about my esophagus. For me, it goes
something like this:
Tonight, we are featuring a New York steak cut from a cow raised
in a vast feedlot, getting little exercise and living among
piles of manure, the perfect breeding ground for E. coli. And,
on our children’s menu tonight, we have “small pieces
of reconstituted chicken, composed mainly of white meat, that
are held together by stabilizers, breaded, fried, frozen, then
reheated.”
Who would want to eat that? Well, most of us actually, if we
don’t stop to think about how our food gets to our table.
As Jews, the celebration of our traditions revolves around food.
All of our holidays seem to be about food. Our holidays fit
into one category or the other. Either, they oppressed us, we
won, let’s eat; or, we sinned, we reconcile with God through
fasting, okay, let’s eat. Today, in case you haven’t
guessed, falls into the latter category. And each of our holidays
has its own foods, like Passover and parsley. Why do we eat
parsley at Passover? Not because it goes nicely with salt water.
We eat parsley at Passover because parsley is a Spring food.
Our holidays used to raise awareness of the natural cycle; however,
mass production of food today provides summer figs in Fall and
winter squash in Spring, separating us from the agricultural
cycle of our holidays and of our food. Rabbi Zalman Schachter-Shalomi
teaches that all too often, we separate ourselves from uncomfortable
circumstances; for instance, “from the sick (who are sent
off to medical centers), from the old (who are hidden away in
nursing homes), from the mentally imcompetent (who are likewise
‘put away’), and also [we separate ourselves] from
the suffering of slaughtered animals which is now likely to
occur thousands of miles away from where a chicken or a pound
of hamburger is purchased at the supermarket, pre-wrapped in
the same clear plastic and white tray as an eggplant or a bunch
of broccoli.”
In our society, we have forgotten the meaning of food. Ignoring
the quality of our food is un-Jewish. Ignoring how our food
gets to our tables is un-Jewish. And simply keeping kosher is
not necessarily a complete solution. Kosher poultry factories
today are no better than non-kosher ones. They’re filled
with a hundred or so shochtim, kosher butchers, and thousands
of chickens, which are herded inside screeching, only to emerge
moments later as tidy little bundles ready for transportation.
In the past, certain ritual acts ensured an awareness of the
sanctity of our food. It is tempting to look back to those days
of old. However, we no longer bring the live animal to the butcher
for slaughter before us. We don’t witness the sacred and
skillful act of sh’chitah, ritual slaughter. These acts
ensured that the animal was brought to the dinner table in acknowledgement
of God’s presence, even in a moment of slaughter. Like
the witnessed act of sh’chitah, regular recitation of
Birkat ha-Mazon, the blessing we recite after we have eaten,
teaches us that in God’s goodness, God nourishes the world
b’chein, b’chesed u-v’rachamim, with grace,
kindness and mercy. Without these constant reminders, it is
easy to take our food for granted.
Why would I talk about eating today, on Yom Kippur? “We
usually don’t think of eating as a matter of ethics. Stealing,
lying, hurting people—these acts are obviously relevant
to our moral character.” But eating? And specifically
eating, not just the subject of food. I could impress upon you
the importance of the impact food has on you, but that’s
not the point. What I intend to discuss with you today is how
your food choices impact others, and what that means about your
relationship with God.
If you could excuse me for just one moment… [Sit. Change
from leather to canvas or other animal-friendly shoes.] One
of the prohibitions on Yom Kippur is the wearing of leather
shoes. “Rabbi Moses Isserles (1520-73), the great medieval
codifier of Jewish law, explained the practice of not wearing
leather shoes on Yom Kippur as an expression of concern for
animal welfare. On the holiest day of the year we are to shed
the symbol of our predatory nature, the shoes which were made
from the skin of a living creature … On the holiest day
of the year, according to Isserles, we ought to reach out for
a higher moral standard.”
In Exodus 23:19, our tradition teaches us Lo-t’vasheil
g’di bachaleiv imo, You shall not boil a kid in its mother’s
milk. From this verse, our tradition developed separation of
milk and meat; however, our tradition, through layers of values,
has extended the range of this commandment.
In his commentary, Ibn Ezra, the 12th century Spanish Bible
commentator, teaches us that cooking a kid in its mother’s
milk applies not only to goats, but to all animals. Throughout
the Hebrew Bible, the word g’di is paired with terms indicating
it simply means ‘young:’ the young of the goats,
sheep or cattle. Ibn Ezra then teaches us that slaughtering
an animal on the same day as its young or taking a mother bird
with her young are acts of cruelty. Cooking a young animal in
its mother’s milk is not only in violation of Jewish law,
it is an act of cruelty. When the food we eat has been treated
cruelly, it is forbidden to us, even if it’s slaughtered
according to kashrut, Jewish dietary law, because the respect
for and the well-being of the animal are just as important as
the precise method used in slaughtering it.
Any being that can suffer has an interest in not suffering.
And suffering is different than pain. Chickens on factory-farms,
for example, are in pain because the crowded cages cause their
feathers to fall out, leaving their raw skin exposed to the
wire cages. They also suffer. Their basic instincts are frustrated.
They can’t stretch their wings or lay their eggs in nests.
Did you know that on the factory-farms of the vast majority
of American egg-producers, the space allocated per hen ranges
from a mere 48 [Hold up 48 sq. in. card.] to 72 [Hold up 72
sq. in. card.] square inches, less than a sheet of typing paper?
We have to recognize suffering, as well as pain, because animal
do have other needs than the need to avoid physical pain.
Ibn Ezra further teaches us about the prohibition regarding
eating any animal that has died a natural death or any animal
found dead. If someone doesn’t know that the meat has
been slaughtered according to Jewish law, the meat simply can’t
be eaten, just as much as one cannot eat food that has not been
cooked in accordance with Jewish law. In fact, Ibn Ezra teaches
us, if the meat has not been slaughtered properly or cooked
properly, the butcher or the cook, respectively, has violated
the commandment, even if he himself hasn’t eaten the meat.
Just as those who keep kosher will not eat food if they are
unsure of how it has been prepared; so, too, we cannot eat food
if we aren’t fully aware of how it was treated before
arriving at our tables. Even animals slaughtered in kosher slaughterhouses
are treated cruelly. For me, the hechsher, the kosher certification,
isn’t enough to make this kosher meat.
In explaining kashrut to non-Jewish friends of mine, I try to
clear up the misconception that the food is somehow ‘blessed.’
Instead, kashrut requires close supervision of the slaughter
and preparation of food. The blessings we offer when we eat
are not for the food, but for God, who gave us the food. And
in our blessings, when we praise God, we don’t say, “who
put bread in plastic bags and put it on the supermarket shelves.”
We attempt to remind ourselves that the bread we eat comes from
the earth, that the wine we drink comes from the vine, and that
it is God who has created a vast variety of foods. According
to our blessings, God is inherently part of how we are fed.
Somehow, though, we have allowed God to be removed from the
production of food and its arrival at our tables.
We used to be a pastoral people, shepherding flocks. We ate
meat, lived in tents made of animal skins, and drank from leather
flasks. We’ve just read from a Torah written on parchment
paper made from animal skin. We wear tefillin made of leather,
and blow a shofar made from a ram’s horn. We treat these
sacred objects with the utmost respect. So too, the animals
from which they have come must receive at least the same respect.
The holiness of these sacred objects is in question if the lives
and deaths of the animals from which they have come are less
than holy.
In high school, I tried being a vegetarian, even a vegan for
some time. I avoided eating red meat for many years after that.
Ultimately, though, I had to admit that I am a meat eater. Physiologically,
we’re all meat eaters. Without vitamin B12, found primarily
in animal products, and believed to be ineffective in plant-based
foods, we put ourselves at risk in our production of red blood
cells and in the maintenance of our nervous systems, at risk
of anemia and irreversible neurological damage. Sure, vegetarians
can acquire B12 from vitamins and fortified foods; however,
these methods are often considered less effective than obtaining
B12 from animal products.
With the help of modern science, being a vegetarian might be
ideal for the treatment of animals. So many of us, though, cannot
make that kind of commitment. I began eating red meat again
when I moved to Israel for my first year of rabbinical school.
It was at that time that I also began keeping kosher. Each time
I sat down to eat, I remembered that I was part of a special
people, that even the simplest act of eating was a holy experience
for me, connecting me to God.
Then, I read Eric Schlosser’s Fast Food Nation. My world
crumbled. To be honest, I picked up the book thinking, “I
don’t eat fast food, it won’t bother me.”
Well, I was wrong. The horrors of the meat industry, strongly
influenced by fast food companies, reach far beyond the doors
of the neighborhood burger joint. All of the animals we eat
are treated cruelly. Here, a respectable author was telling
me that keeping kosher, a choice I felt connected me with God,
was just as bad as if I weren’t keeping kosher.
I learned that organic, free-range meat was better for the animals.
Anyone who has owned a dog knows that when a dog’s stomach
is upset, he’ll eat grass to settle his stomach. “In
her book, The Complete Herbal Handbook for the Dog and Cat,
author, herbalist and long-time dog breeder Juliette de Bairacli
Levy writes: ‘I am always amazed at the way my Afghan
Hounds have selected their medicinal plants, shrubs and trees,
and know where to find them and how to use them. By use, I mean
the amount to be eaten to serve its purpose. Mostly their use
is as a laxative or to promote vomiting, and they know exactly
how much to eat to achieve one or the other effect.’”
Animals know how to take care of their bodies, what to eat in
order to stay healthy. Free-range farms allow animals to wander
freely, develop properly, and eat a diet that is appropriate
for their health and well-being. A healthier animal produces
more healthful meat. Animals raised in unhealthy settings create
situations ideal for contamination and disease.
In response to the Mad Cow Disease epidemic in Great Britain
in the mid-1990s, the Food and Drug Administration imposed new
rules. These rules prevented cattle protein from being present
in cattle feed. Wait. Cattle feed contained cattle protein?
Cows were eating cows? Now wonder they were mad.
In spite of these measures, as we know, over ten years after
the FDA’s new guidelines, Mad Cow Disease and E. coli
still trouble our food industry. Part of it is that the FDA’s
plan doesn’t ban the use of animal proteins in the feeds
of other animals. Cows are herbivores. They do not have teeth
intended for chewing meat. Nor do they have digestive systems
designed to digest animal products. And no matter how finely
one grinds chicken by-products, cows still aren’t meant
to eat them. But cows do. Cattle protein contains ground chicken
by-products from chickens that have been fed cattle protein.
Until 2004, cattle blood could still be present in cattle feed.
Meat that bears the USDA seal labeling it as organic is held
to a higher standard. One must be able to trace the meat from
the range to the dinner table without a break in the process.
Just try to find out the origin of your Tyson chicken breasts.
The only sure way to avoid eating tainted animal by-products
is to avoid eating animals that may have consumed them. The
only way to avoid diseases like E. coli and Mad Cow Disease
in our meats is to eat organic, free-range meat. Unfortunately,
though, there is no organic, free-range, kosher beef available
on this continent. Somehow, avoiding animal cruelty through
organic, free-range herding is something that conflicts with
kashrut in the beef industry in our country. Organic, free-range
meat isn’t only better for the animals. It’s better
for us, too. E. coli, Mad Cow Disease, salmonella, and countless
other food-borne diseases are often directly related to the
environment in which the animals are raised and the feed they’re
given.
Ultimately, my dismay after reading Fast Food Nation led me
to stop keeping kosher. I would rather have organic, free-range
chicken at a health-conscious restaurant than have a pastrami
sandwich at a kosher deli. It seems to me that if keeping kosher
is about God’s presence in even such ordinary acts like
eating, then the meal that keeps the animal’s well-being
in mind is much more of a kosher meal than the one with the
hechsher.
Keeping kosher was no longer enough, because simply keeping
kosher, to me, was un-Jewish. I have found myself on a journey
that, while living in New York City, led me to find organic,
free-range kosher poultry. But I can’t get that here in
Minnesota. I continue to hope that it will one day be more widely
available. Since leaving the convenience of New York City, I
have let my eating habits become less thoughtful. Today, I pledge,
once again, to be more aware of what I consume and how it gets
to my table. Whenever possible, I will only eat organic, free-range
meat, even if it’s not kosher. If it’s not available,
I will strive to choose a vegetarian option. In the meantime,
I hope to continue to create a demand for organic, free-range
kosher meat so that one day, I might feel comfortable keeping
kosher again.
And now, I ask for a commitment from you. Let’s make organic,
animal-friendly food a priority in our community. We should
not be comfortable keeping kosher if kosher meat is not organic
and not free-range. Be concerned about the animal products you
eat and the welfare of the animals from which your food has
come. Our actions have direct consequences. There are consequences
for partaking in food that ignores the presence of God. In order
to serve God fully, we must respect God’s creation. When
you purchase meat, purchase organic meat whenever possible.
If you keep kosher, create a demand for kosher, organic meat.
Ask for it where you shop, even though you now know it doesn’t
exist. This will help create hype and demand. The next time
you consume eggs, consume cage-free eggs. The next time you
celebrate Jewish tradition with food, honor God with the food
you choose to eat.
May we all be inspired to honor God even in ordinary daily acts,
such as eating. And may these small, simple steps help us to
gain a greater understanding of our role in God’s creation.
Ken y’hi ratzon, May this be God’s will. Shanah
Tovah.
Eric Schlosser, Fast
Food Nation. New York: Houghton Mifflin, 2002, p. 140.
Zalman Schachter. “Forward,” Vegetarianism and the
Jewish Tradition. New York: Ktav Publishing, 1982, p. xiii.
Peter Singer and Jim Mason, The Way We Eat: Why Our Food Choices
Matter. Rodale, Inc., 2006, p. 3.
Ben Zion Bokser, Judaism: Profile of a Faith. New York: Knopf,
1963, pp. 170 f., as cited in Isaac Klein, A Guide to Jewish
Religious Practice. New York: The Jewish Theological Seminary
of America, 1992, pp. 210-211.
Leviticus 22:28
Deuteronomy 22:6
Peter Singer in Elliott Ratzman’s “Feast or Famine,”
Heeb Magazine. Fall 2006, p. 47.
Deuteronomy 14:21 and Leviticus 22:8
Schacter, p. xv.
The Vegetarian Society, Information Sheet: Vitamin B12, http://www.vegsoc.org/info/b12.html.
Terri Perrin, “Why do Dogs Eat Grass,” http://www.thepetprofessor.com/pring.aspx?id=214.
“Government Bans Cattle Blood in Feed,” The New
York Times, January 26, 2004.