Parshat Shemini
5761

I am a big believer in the statement (which one sometimes encounters in sermons or essays): "What comes out of your mouth is even more important than what goes into your mouth!"  

There are some observant Jews who, while scrupulous in observing the
very highest level of kashrus, tend to forget all about rabbinic (let alone,
Divine) supervision when speaking of someone they don't particularly like.  
It's unfortunate, but it happens.  

Even those of us who have gotten more careful about loshon hara (gossip and slander) thanks to the work of the great Chofetz Chayim [author of the ground-breaking book on the subject more than a century ago] and his many devoted followers and popularizers in our day, still almost routinely violate the no-less stringent Torah prohibition of ona'as devarim--words that cause pain or anguish to the listener.  We may not call our associates nasty names behind their backs anymore, but we can easily snap at our spouses for forgetting to pick up more soy milk.    

On that note, let me publicly ask my wife's forgiveness (well ahead of
the Yom Kippur atonement blitz)…

In any case, it's true: what comes out of our mouths is, in many ways, more important than what goes in.  After all, speech is one of our defining characteristics as human beings created in the image of G-d (Who, with Divine "speech," created worlds), and one of the greatest gifts we enjoy. What's more, the Talmud states that the loshon hara that came out of our mouths (and the baseless hatred in our hearts from which it sprung) caused the destruction of the Second Temple and the exile in which we still find ourselves.

And yet, when all is said and done, what goes into our mouths is of very great significance as well.  The dietary laws--which form a central theme of this week's Torah portion--represent a crucial rung on the ladder leading to kedusha (holiness), the supreme goal of our election as G-d's people according to the Torah.  [Exodus 19, 5-6: "And now, if you hearken well to Me and observe My covenant…you shall be to Me a kingdom of ministers and a holy nation."  Leviticus 11, 45: "For I am Hashem Who elevates you from the land of Egypt to be a G-d to you; you shall be holy, for I am holy."]  

Rabbi Eli Munk, in his commentary on this parsha in The Call of the Torah (Mesorah Publications), gives a brief, but masterful, overview of how the great Jewish thinkers have understood this body of legislation.  What follows are some insights taken from (or inspired by) his discussion. 

From the very earliest days of Creation, the human relationship to food (glorious food) was an important concern.  Consider the first prohibition given to mankind. "Of every tree of the garden you may freely eat; but of the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil, you must not eat thereof…"   

G-d could have given Adam and Eve any instruction at all as a means of training them in following the guidelines of Divine Wisdom:  "Of all the clovers of the garden, you may freely pluck; but the four-leaf clover you must not pluck!"  

But, instead, He chose to give them…a dietary law.  As Rabbi Munk explains: 

"Mankind was told right from the start that the condition for all moral life is the subordination of physical nature to the will of G-d.  Man becomes worthy of his name by mastering the temptations of the senses.  This exercise of self-discipline is always the first step in moral training."   (Volume III, p. 99) 

Unlike what many wrongly imagine, G-d was not out (and is not out) to spoil our fun; note that our desires and physical nature are to be subordinated to a higher directive, curbed and moderated--not squashed or denied.  Adam and Eve, remember, had a whole garden of delightful trees to taste, and they were strongly encouraged (even commanded, some say) to do so.

Similarly, there is a whole world of delightful tastes that we can, and should enjoy.  Only some few items has G-d omitted from our menu.  And the moral effect on those who observe these dietary laws, starting from even the youngest age, is most salubrious: we learn--and are constantly reminded--that we can say, "No," to our desires, that "mind can triumph over matter" (ibid.)

When one further considers the Torah and rabbinic laws that surround the act of eating (washing of the hands before bread, blessings of gratitude before and after every food), we see a beautiful, and characteristically Jewish, transformation: an instinct we share with animals has been sanctified and elevated to the level of service of G-d!  At the same time, the pleasure of eating has in no way been denied.  If anything--as I've pointed out often in my lectures--the effect of the blessings is to focus the mind on the experience, leading to a heightened level of pleasure and appreciation for the gift of taste and nourishment.  Take a moment to thank G-d…and the burger will taste even better! 

Another great spiritual benefit of the dietary laws is that they train us in the truth that G-d understands things better than we do.  For there is no real logical or medical reason why the Torah denies Jews the pleasure of pork or shellfish; kashrus, therefore, belongs to the category of Torah laws known as chukim, decrees that fundamentally transcend our human reason. (Commentators hundreds of years ago convincingly knocked down the shallow notion that the primary purpose of these laws was hygienic.)  In what way eating certain creatures makes us spiritually "abominable" (a term the Torah uses in the parsha), how exactly it upsets the equilibrium between body and soul or dulls our capacity for spiritual perception (as our Sages tell us it does), we cannot know for sure.  While not irrational, these commandments are, indeed, suprarational.   

Theories have been offered to explain certain aspects of kashrus, including the well known (and plausible) one that the animals and birds prohibited by the Torah are chiefly predatory in nature.  Still, how the ingesting of such animals would cause spiritual harm is beyond our basic understanding.  And that is not such a terrible thing, after all: we Jews know it all, but can't we agree to leave a little room for Hashem's Highest Wisdom to dwarf ours?      

Whatever our own investigations yield (and we Jews are commanded to use our reason and delve into the Torah, seeking to uncover its secrets), the grand purpose of these laws is clearly stated at the end of the parsha: holiness.  "For I am Hashem your G-d-you are to sanctify yourselves and you shall become holy, for I am holy…"     

May we all strive to observe these dietary laws, which have been a pillar of Jewish observance for thousands of years, and thereby (along with diligent study of laws of proper speech) sanctify our mouths in BOTH directions.

GOOD SHABBOS!

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