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Jewish funeral and memorial services in Mainline PA and metro Philly: What you need to know

May 20, 2013 by WanderingHebrew


Are you looking for a ritual officiant for the burial or memorial service of a Jewish loved one?

I am a freelance officiant of Jewish funerals and weddings. I have completed four years of rabbinical school and live in Havertown in the Mainline.

In this blog post, I will let you know what the preparation process is like. While I officiate standard traditional Jewish funerals, my largest clientele is families who are unaffiliated, have interfaith family dynamics or who want a theistically secular funeral service. In this post, I will also give you some examples of specific prayers or readings we can use in the service.

Every funeral ritual is different: As an officiant, I try to match the liturgy and content with the beliefs and wishes of the deceased as well as the sentiments of his/her loved ones. Trying to do both is possible — it just takes some time, and some conversations, to figure it out.

Many Jewish funerals include two classic pieces of Jewish liturgy: the Mourner’s Kaddish and El Male Rachamim. But today, many people favor more contemporary readings on the issues of death and grief.  For an interfaith audience, a traditional reading from the Torah (such as Psalm 23 “The Lord is My Shephard I Shall Not Want …”) works well, and is recognizable to both Jews and Christians. OR, we can substitute biblical readings with selections that are less theistic in nature, such as an excerpt from the beautiful poem by Marge Piercy called The Seven of Pentacles.

We figure out what readings or liturgy are best to include, based on the conversations I have with immediate family members and friends.

During the memorial service, I love to include one to three guests, who come up during the service and offer a few thoughts or memories about the loved one. We can also include and “open mic” situation, where we open up the floor to any of the guests present for some impromptu memory-sharing.

I also love to include a short eulogy where I share highlights of the person’s life, her loves and interests, and what she will be most remembered for. Prior to my rabbinic life, I worked as a professional journalist for 15 years; this autobiographical information I glean from family members during interviews, and write into a eulogy that I hope captures the spirit and life of the person who died.

So how, exactly, does all of this happen? The process for funeral service planning is the following:

1) An initial phone call to get acquainted and confirm the schedule.

2) If you live in the Mainline, an in-person meeting with one or two family members who knew the deceased really well. We will meet for about 1 hour in your home, and discuss what kind of service you would like, as well as share details about who the deceased was as a person.

3) If you live outside the Mainline, this planning meeting can be done via conference call.

4) Ask you to find out the deceased person’s Hebrew name. You might need to make calls to your extended family to find this out. It might also be recorded on a ketubah. A person’s Hebrew name is usually used during the memorial service.

5) Meet ½ an hour before the service begins to go over any final details or questions.

6) The service itself is usually held at the funeral home. If internment is going to take place, the service is usually followed by a much shorter graveside service, with just immediate family members attending.

If you are on a tight schedule planning your funeral, and wish to contact me, please send me an email, as well as phone call. (I have several small children at home, so I’m not always deeply attuned to all of my technological gadgets!)

They are: joysa@aol.com,  (c) 267-902-7752.

May strength, comfort and peace be with you and your family in this difficult time.

+++

Another article I wrote on this topic can be found here:
http://wanderinghebrew.com/2012/08/15/planning-a-jewish-funeral-in-philly-101-what-you-need-to-know/

Posted in death, Funerals | Tagged , , | Leave a Comment »

What Your Jewish Mom Wants For Mother’s Day

May 9, 2013 by WanderingHebrew


Today, thanks to the wondrous connectivity of Facebook, I was led to a blog post called “What I Want For Mother’s Day.” It is written by a site called The Little White Lion.

I don’t know who the Little White Lion is, or what her reason for blogging might be. Judging from her website’s ad by my favorite yoga clothier, Vickerey, the one thing I do know is that Little White Lion has done a far better job monetizing her website than I have! (Ha ha ha!)

No matter. I so love what this writer had to say, I’m re-posting it here, with some major tweaks of my own. The end result is part Little White Lion, part me, Your Jewish Mother.

dutch

Dear Children: Mother’s Day is coming up, and I thought I should tell you what I want. This way, there is no guilty, panicked, last-minute purchasing of flowers or bric-a-brac at the closest convenience store. There is no need to spend money (which you probably didn’t earn) to buy me something, which I will then have to dust, move, and schlep around with me until my dying days.

No thanks. This is what I want instead.

By the way, since I am your mother, I feel like I have a blessing from the universe to voice this wish out loud, and without hesitation. In case you have forgotten, I’m the person who spent 11+ months uniting your little embryonic cells in a fertility lab; I’m the gal who spent 16+ months hauling your growing limbs and intestines about, each step more painful than the one that had come before; I’m that lady over there who had a career, who had success and who had a whole lot of fun before you two came along. Now, my “career,” my “success” and my “fun” – well, it’s defined differently.

Daughter and son, here is my Mother’s Day wish:

I want you to be a mensch, a decent human being.

I want you to be who you are, but don’t be an asshole.

I want you to work hard at everything you do, because life is too short to not try your best.

I want you to ask for help when you need it.

I want you to notice when others might need help, and offer it without them asking.

I hope you can be proud of your successes, and yet always aware that your inate gifts come from a place outside of yourself, and hence, you cannot take credit for them.

I want you to learn how to cook, do your own laundry, live within your means, do things when you say you’ll do them, and show up when you say you’ll be there.

I want you to know how to clean a bathroom. I don’t want to ever hear you say that it is “someone else’s job.”

I want you to realize that laundry, cooking and cleaning is your job in every home or plcabinsace you ever stay in, including your parents’.

When you screw up, and you will, I want you to embrace it, because screws-ups serve as a lid for our egos.

I want you to travel, because the world is huge, and you are a tiny crucial part of it.

I want you to know that even when we hate each other, I will never stop loving you.

Once you’ve grown up, I want you to subscribe to The New Yorker magazine, and never stop reading.

I hope you will always know that everything you do, and everything you don’t do, has an impact on this planet. To someone or something.

I want you to gain financial and emotional independence; plan for the worst, but hope for the best.

I want you to be more interested in other people than you are in yourself.

I want you to know that you are flawed, and you are extraordinary. There is no one else like you.

I want you to know that I would lay down my life for you in Lily Potter fashion any day of the week.

I want you to speak and act like a person who is aware of the immensimagesCANP7078e privilege you have inherited by simple virtue of being born in this time, country, and family. You didn’t earn this gift; so you don’t have a right to squander it. Your luck is one in a billion.

I want you to never lose your soul connection to nature, animals and the natural world. These concrete jungles we build are devoid of almost everything that matters.

I want you to know that even in the darkest of times, you can choose happiness.

This Mother’s Day, and on that Mother’s Day when I am no longer here to hold your pint-sized hands (or when your pint-sized hands have outgrown holding,) humankind hopes for the gift of your smile.

                                                                                                                                                 Love,

                                                                                                                                                      Your Mamma

Posted in a LIVING progressive Judaism! | Tagged , | 2 Comments »

How to write your own wedding vows: Advice for Jewish, secular and interfaith ceremonies

April 23, 2013 by WanderingHebrew


To write your own wedding vows, or not to write your own vows: That is the question. About half of the couples whose weddings I have officiated have wrestled with that question. Most of them, in the end, decide not to.

What are the pros and cons of writing your own vows? What are the different ways it can be done?  This blog post strives to answer those questions, by offering some examples of successful vow exchanges I have seen.


Pros to writing your own vows:

● You get to say exactly what you want to say.

● It’s a chance to show off your fine verbal skills – and your sense of humor.

● It is sure to make half the women in the audience cry.

● It is sure to make half the men in the audience struggle really hard NOT to cry.


Cons to writing your own vows:

● It’s hard. Really hard. How do you boil down such sweeping concepts as “love” and “eternity” into the English language? That’s why we have poets. Not everyone is cut out for this work.

● It takes time. And time is one of the few things couples have before weddings. Don’t you have some centerpieces that need stuffed? And where in the world is grandma’s old blue garter belt anyway? Has that been found?

● You don’t just have to write it. You have to read it. Out loud. In public. Without making a snot-filled fool of yourself. Hey, if you can get through it, you have my endless admiration. I can never get through a wedding without losing a tear or two myself, and I’m the officiant. I’m the one person who is supposed to have it pulled together! So if you can write and deliver your vows and keep your composure while doing it, my kippah is off to ya!


Here are three different ways of writing your vows:

1)      The groom reads his words. Then the bride reads her words (or vice versa). Below is a draft of one groom’s vows to his wife, which I found particularly lovely. With his permission, I am pasting them below. The vows were kept as a surprise to the other party; I looked over them to make sure they were similar in length and tone, and made slight editing suggestions to make them “match up.”

2)      The groom and bride alternate sentences. This came off really well; the crowd was touched, and everyone laughed a lot too.

3)      The groom reads; then the bride reads. The couple planned their vows together, to play off the same words and phrases. The guests loved these vows too.


OPTION No. 1: Surprise Vows

Groom reads. Then bride reads. (Or vice versa). Only the officiant has checked their vows before the big day. Here is just what the groom wrote.

 

Example from their Jewish wedding, replete with military honor guards, at World Cafe Live:

Alanah: Two-and-a-half years ago, I asked you out for coffee, out on our first date and thankfully, you said yes. After that date, we so effortlessly became entwined in each other’s lives, it was easy to picture this day ahead.

Eighteen months ago, while on a very long distance phone call, I asked you to move with me from California all the way here to the East Coast, and thankfully, you said yes. It was a leap of faith for both of us; a fantastic storyline still unfolding.

One year ago, while on vacation in paradise, I asked you to join me up here, witnessed by our family and friends, under this chuppah we’ve since created together, to take my hand and be my wife, and thankfully, you said yes.

So now, in front of our family and friends, I have another question to ask, one that you spend the rest of our lives answering:

Will you forever be my partner in this adventure of life and lend your endless patience to help me create a loving household where mutual respect, communication and unconditional love reign over all. Will you continue to be an everlasting source of deep personal strength, the rock by my side through trying times and stay the reassuring voice of better times ahead. Will you forever be the smiling face by my side every morning, to lighten my days with the sweetness of your personality and continue to be the most genuinely kind person I’ve ever met.

Though we walked up here separately, in a few minutes you and I will take hands and walk down off this stage, and down the aisle past our family and friends, and into our future as partners, as husband and wife. I can’t wait.

 

OPTION No. 2: The Planned Back-And-Forth

(The couples exchanges one-line vows, which they clearly wrote together. Groom in bold. Bride in plain script.)

 

Example from their secular wedding at a funky nightclub in Manyunk:

Groom: With this ring, I promise to be your best friend

Bride: With this ring, I promise to be your best friend

I promise to cook for you

I promise to try your cooking and bake you treats

To have family dinners every night

To ask you about your day and tell you about mine

To listen and hear your point of view

To respect you

To always be honest

To tell you how I feel

To play with your hair

To fold your socks and do the dishes

To support you in achieving your goals

To be your biggest fan

To compromise

To share my bowl of ice cream, and other things in life

To control my temper

To always say ‘I’m Sorry’

To hold you in good times and bad

To make you laugh

To let you have the window seat on the plane rides home

To take lots of pictures so we can always remember the good times

To tell you that you’re beautiful

To love you even in the moments when I don’t like you

To take care of you

To try new things

To never stop traveling the world

To be open minded

To be the best father I can be

To be the best mother I can be

To always put family first

To kiss you every morning

And tuck you in every night

I love you

I love you too

 

OPTION No. 3: The Planned Paragraph Vow

(The couples takes turns reading their half of a script, which the pair clearly wrote together. The upside is it creates and plays off of the parallel structure and promises. The downside is, neither bride nor groom is surprised in the moment.)   

 

Example from their secular Jewish wedding at Morris Arboretum:

Lauren:

Standing with you here today, among our family and friends, I cannot wait to begin this journey into the rest of our lives, with you by my side and my hand in yours.

I promise to listen. I will listen to your thoughts, your worries, your dreams and your concerns.

I promise to look after you. When you have a knot in your back, I will kneed it. When your head has a fever, I will cool it. And when you need ice cream, I will help you eat it.

I promise to treasure what you treasure. From furry and mischievous kittens to your interests and hobbies, I will help you enjoy life and experience it fully.

I promise to accept and embrace your idiosyncrasies. I will remember that our quirks make us who we are. When you wake up with only breakfast on your mind, I will steer you to Kashi. When we are out of Kashi, I will make you eggs.

I promise to support you emotionally. I will give support as you seek out your goals, when you are successful and when you fall short. When you achieve your goals, I will be there to celebrate. When you do not, I will be there to comfort.

I promise to not take our relationship for granted. I will actively nurture ‘us’. I will continue to communicate and check-in, to keep us stronger together than we are apart.

Stephen:

Standing with you here today, among our family and friends, I cannot wait to begin this journey into the rest of our lives, with you by my side and your hand in mine.

I promise to listen. I will listen to your zany, impossible ideas, your worries, and your dreams.

I promise to look after you. When you can’t figure out how to use our kitchen appliances, I will help you.  When you have a bad dream, I will comfort you.  And when you crave the mushroomy thing I make that you love, I will make it for you.

I promise to treasure what you treasure. From kittens, to data analysis, to moments of peace and quiet, I will help you enjoy life and experience it fully.

I promise to accept and embrace your idiosyncrasies. I will remember that our quirks make us who we are.  When you get so hungry that you forget to eat, I will bring you a snack.  When you need to double check something one more time – just to be sure – I will smile and remember that your careful nature is a wonderful part of who you are.

I promise to support you emotionally. I will be there with you as you pursue your dreams.  I will celebrate with you when you are successful, and I will comfort you when you fall short.  I will never let you forget how exceptional you are.

I promise to not take our relationship for granted. I will actively nurture ‘us’. I will continue to communicate and check-in, to keep us stronger together than we are apart.

Posted in Jewish, Weddings Wedding Weddings | Tagged , , , , | Leave a Comment »

Aviva Zornberg explores hidden meanings of the Exodus, and the poem ‘Miriam’s Song’ by Eleanor Wilner

March 19, 2013 by WanderingHebrew


The following poem, called “Miriam’s Song,” was written by contemporary American poet named Eleanor Wilner. Born in Ohio in 1937, Eleanor was on the faculty of the MFA Program for Writers at Warren Wilson College. She lived part of her life in Philadelphia. It strikes me as a beautiful addendum to my previous post, on women’s role in the Exodus.

For sale at http://www.imagekind.com

Miriam’s Song by Eleanor Wilner

Death to the first born sons, always —
The first fruits to the gods of men.
She had not meant it so, standing in the reeds,
back then, the current tugging at her skirt
like hands, she had only meant to save
her little brother, Moses, red-faced with rage
when he was given
to the river. The long curve of the Nile
would keep their line, the promised land
around the bend. Years later
when the gray angel, like the smoke trail
of a dying comet, passed by their houses
with blood smeared over doorways, Miriam,
her head hot in her hands, wept
as the city swelled
with the wail of Egypt’s women.
Then she straightened up, slowly plaited
her hair and wound it tight around her head,
drew her long white cloak with its deep blue
threads
around her, went out to watch the river
where Osiris, in his golden funeral barge, floated by forever …
as if in offering, she placed a basket on the river,
this time an empty one, without the precious
cargo
of tomorrow. She watched it drift a little from the shore.
She threw one small stone in it,
then another, and another, til its weight
was too much for the water and it slowly turned
and sank. She watched the Nile gape and
shudder,
then heal its own green skin. She went
to join the others, to leave one ruler
for another, one Egypt for the next.
Some nights you still can see her, by some river
where the willows hang, listening to the heavy
tread
of armies, whose sons once hidden dark
in baskets, and in their mind she sees her sister,
the black-eyed Pharaoh’s daughter, lift the baby
like a gift from the brown flood waters
and take him home to save him, such  pretty
boy and so disarming, as his dimpled hands
reach up, his mouth already open
for the breast.

To hear an NPR podcast about Exodus and Wilner’s poem ”Miriam’s Song,” click here! This interview first aired On Being in 2005 and includes an interview with Aviva Zornberg. Zornberg is a scholar of Torah and rabbinic literature, and author of several books including The Particulars of Rapture: Reflections on Exodus.

Posted in Authors, Jewish, Parshat B'shalach, Parshat Bo | Tagged , , | Leave a Comment »

Women and Miriam in the Exodus story: A narrative framed by death, water and rebirth

March 15, 2013 by WanderingHebrew


This year, I had the honor and pleasure of delivering the following d’var Torah for a women’s seder hosted by the Women of Reform Judaism at Beth David Congregation of Philadelphia. I was asked to speak for about 5 minutes on the topic of women in the Exodus story. This is what I shared:

Original artwork for sale at the Reiss Gallery in Greenwood Village, Co. http://rreissgallery.com/mishory.html

Death. Water. Rebirth.

Death. Water. Rebirth.

This is the pattern we see in the famous story of the Exodus. Each is a stepping stone in the great circle of life.

First we have the Pharaoh of Egypt, a powerful yet fearful man who has grown paranoid that the population of his Hebrew slaves is becoming too great, and might one day overpower him. So, he issues a decree that all firstborn sons be killed. Death.

A loving sister named Miriam takes her baby brother and releases him to the fates of a raging river, in the hopes he will survive. Water.

He does survive. And it is Moses’s survival that will make possible the transformation of the Hebrew slaves into the Israelite people — a free people on their own land. Rebirth.

But even within this story’s mega-journey from Death, Water, to Rebirth, we also witness smaller inner-journeys that mimic this same pattern. The Exodus story begins with God deciding that enough is enough; he will no longer tolerate Pharaoh’s cruelty against his people. Through Moses, God sends 10 plagues. The plagues culminate, each more horrible than the last, until the final plague. Death to the Egyptians! But it not just death to firstborn sons. (You might have thought this. This is how it is depicted in the famous Charlton Heston movie about the Exodus.) But the movie was wrong! That is not what the texts say. The Torah says that the edict of death was for the firstborn of all the people and even of all the animals in the Egyptian kingdom.

Did you know? Pharaoh’s daughter was a first-born child. The woman who plucked Moses from the reeds and raised him as her own son, she was destined to perish in the 10th plague.

But, she did not perish. P’sikta D’rav Kahana 7:7 — a 5th century rabbinic text — tells us that Moses prayed for his adoptive mother. The text gives her the name of Bithiah. Moses’s prayer invoked a passage from Proverbs 31:18 about a “woman of valor.” According to this passage, the lamp of a woman of valor never goes out at night. P’sikta D’rav Kahana understands this to be a metaphysical reference to Pharaoh’s daughter, whose soul was not extinguished on that terrible night.

Color pencil drawing inspired by the songs of Debbie Friedman. For sale at Soulworks Studio. http://www.soulworksstudio.com/SongMandalas.en.html

Color pencil drawing inspired by the songs of Debbie Friedman. For sale at Soulworks Studio. http://www.soulworksstudio.com/SongMandalas.en.html

But, let us return to our circle.

We have Death — again — of innocents, of children. Just as Pharaoh decreed, so decrees the Hebrew god.

With the plague of death unleashed upon his empire, the exhausted Pharaoh finally relents and let’s his people go. So eager is he to see the Hebrews leave, Midrash tells us, that he leaves all of the slain first-born of his kingdom, unburied, broiling, sweltering, left to rot where they had died. He did this not out of callous indifference, but rather because he ordered the Egyptians to help the Israelites pack up their belongings and get out — lest there by any further delay in their departure.

After Death comes Water. The Israelites collect their sheep and their ox, their blankets, and their bread — which had not had not even had time to rise — and they flee for the relative safety of the desert. Eventually, they arrive on the shores of another mighty river. No longer the River Nile, they are now on the banks of the Sea of Reeds.

But, the story tells us, Pharaoh had a change of heart. He let the people go — but then he sent the Egyptian armies out after them. As well-armed chariots and soldiers were advancing upon Moses’s bedraggled bunch, the waters of the great river miraculously part, enabling the entire Hebrew people to walk through its waters. Just as the last of them has cleared the way, the waters come crashing back down, drowning every last one of Pharaoh’s men. Pharaoh is the only survivor, and he left to hear the death cries of his entire kingdom.

The Israelites break out into song, celebrating their deliverance. It is one of the most famous poems in the Bible, known as the Song of the Sea. And it is here, at this moment of Rebirth, that we see Moses’s sister Miriam again taking center stage.

Death, Water, Rebirth. Miriam has been a major actor in every step of this circle of life and redemption.

Shared on Flickr.com. If you know the artist, please email me!

Shared on Flickr.com. If you know the artist, please email me!

***

What I am about to tell you is a secret. It’s a secret because it isn’t told in the Torah, or in the Maxwell House hagaddah you grew up with, and is probably not found in many of the other dreadful hagaddot you have seen or read in your life. They were all written by men, for men, about men.

The Torah’s Song of the Sea begins at Exodus 15:1 and says this: “Az yashir Moshe u’bnai Israel et Hashira Ha-zot l’Adonai, v’yom’ru …” In other words: “Then Moses and the Israelites sang this song to Adonai, saying,…”  What follows is a victory poem cheering the Hebrews’ deliverance over Egypt, and hailing God as the ultimate warrior.

What the poem doesn’t tell us, but what modern-day scholars know, is that it was usually the women in a society who create the victory songs of war, not the men. The men are the ones off fighting the battle. It is the women, nervously waiting back home, who craft the melodies and the words that impassion this style of poetry. Victory songs belong to a genre of literature composed by women and used to greet victorious troops after battle.

Indeed, there is at least one ancient Jewish text we have found that gives a tantalizing hint to this historical fact. One ancient scroll titles the Song of the Sea as “Miriam’s Song.”

It was probably a mistake. I can so image in the poor schlub — the professional scribe — who may have lost his job over it.

But, maybe not. Maybe, this “mistake” was intentional after all. Maybe what this text reveals is a tantalizing, almost maddening clue that somewhere deep in our collective subconscious, in the verbal traditions of our people, we knew all along that it was Miriam — and not Moses — who led the people in song after the redemption.

Death. Water and Rebirth. It turns out that the Exodus story begin and ends with a woman. It began, and ended, with Miriam.

Image shared on Flickr by tbabchak.

This is why, today, more than 1,500 years after the Passover seder tradition evolved in Palestine and Eastern Europe, we women gather to have what we call a “women’s seder.” Because it is here, with the love of sisters, mothers, and friends, that we may relish the joy in sharing the rest of the story.

Posted in Authors, Jewish, Parshat B'shalach, Parshat Bo, Parshat vayera, Parshat Veira | Tagged , , , | Leave a Comment »

Father gives daughter away at a wedding with a laugh and a tear: It’s perfect!

March 4, 2013 by WanderingHebrew


In Judaism, we don’t have a tradition of mothers or fathers giving a speech after they walk their daughter or son down the aisle. Here, however, is an example of how it can be done so beautifully, with the right person and the right words.

The video clip is a few minutes long, and really worth watching — especially if you want an example of a perfect way to deliver a speech during a marriage ceremony!


http://www.godvine.com/Father-of-the-Bride-Gives-the-Most-Touching-Speech-Ever-2831.html?utm_source=newsletter&utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=2-13-2013

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Kosher cows, treif pigs: What’s the real reason behind the Jewish dietary laws?

February 19, 2013 by WanderingHebrew


Why is it kosher to eat beef but not pork?

Why is it okay to eat locusts (!) but not lobster?

What’s so wrong with eating a vulture or an eagle?

The origins of the Jewish dietary laws are found in Leviticus 11 and are repeated in Deuteronomy 14. For one of my rabbinical school courses, we spent several weeks studying the biblical origins and theological ideas behind these laws, and what makes some foods kosher and others treif.  For class, we translated them, made comparison lists, and tried to notice patterns in the categories – as well note differences between the two texts. Then, we read some of the top theological/sociological/historical theories on these laws.kosher 1

What the rules of kashrut “really mean” is one of those topics people have debated for centuries. Everyone has a theory of what they really are about, and the most popular explanation is that they were primarily about hygiene. According to this line of thought, the ancient Israelites somehow figured out that meats like pork and shellfish were prone to food poisoning, and unlike our less-savvy neighbors, the Israelites wisely decided to ban them.

It’s a nice idea, I’ll admit. It makes us sound smarter than the rest of the world. The truth though, is that there is very little truth to this theory, and in fact it is one of the more weakly supported theories out there.

After our studies on this topic, what I walked away with was an appreciation for how difficult it is to grasp what these laws were about without understanding Jewish theology at the time the laws were written — and that is no small feat. It isn’t that it’s rocket science; rather it involves a whole way of looking at the world that is so alien to how we think today, it’s simply hard to wrap your mind around it!

That said, I’m not copping out! Here is the extremely abbreviated version of the origins of the dietary laws, as I understand them. My sources are three fine pieces of scholarship by three leading thinkers in the field. While they disagree with each other on some subtle areas, in the bigger picture they are largely in agreement.

Levine, Baruch A. Leviticus. Philadelphia: JPS, 1989, pp. 243-248.

Milgrom, Jacob “Ethics and Ritual: The Foundations of the Biblical Dietary Laws.” Religion and Law: Biblical-Judaic and Islamic Perspectives. 1990. pp. 159-191.

Wright, David. “Observations on the Ethical Foundations of the Biblical Dietary Laws: A Response to Jacob Milgrom.” 1990. pp. 193-198  

1) In a word, the Jewish dietary laws come down to holiness: the belief they made the Jewish people holy.
In biblical Judaism, and unlike the widespread animism that existed in surrounding pagan communities, holiness was not an innate quality.
It was something assigned by God alone.image

“The emulation of God’s holiness demands following the ethics associated with his nature. Since the demand for holiness occurs with greater frequency and emphasis in the food prohibitions than in any other commandment, I conclude they are the Torah’s personal recommendation as the best way of achieving this higher ethical life.” (Milgrom)

2) The laws set the Israelites apart from non-Jews, as they believed they had been specifically selected for a special and unique relationship.

“Israel’s attainment of holiness is dependent on setting itself apart from the nations and the prohibited animal foods. The dietary system is thus a reflection and reinforcement of Israel’s election.” (Milgrom)

“The main reason for their formulation is to provide a means of making and maintaining Israel as a holy people, setting them apart from other nations.” (Wright)  

“Pure creatures are to impure creatures as the Israelites are to the other nations. A pure people eats pure creatures in a pure state.” (Levine)

“The Israelites must adhere to this ideal way of life although other nations do not. Required along with avoidance of improper sexual unions, which would corrupt the family of Israel, the avoidance of pagan worship, which would alienate Israel from God, is the avoidance of unfit food. By such avoidance, Israelites are kept from bestiality, their humaneness is enhanced. Such a pure people deserves to live in its own land, unmolested.” (Levine)

3) It is no accident that one of the first acts of Christianity was to abolish the dietary laws. 

 “Historians have claimed that the purpose was to ease the process of converting to Gentiles. This explanation is, at best, a partial truth. Abolishing the dietary laws, according to Scripture, also abolishes the distinction between Gentile and Jew, and that is exactly what the founders of Christianity intended to accomplish — to end once and for all the notion that God had covenanted himself with a certain people who would keep itself apart from all the other nations. Further, it is these distinguishing criteria, the dietary laws (and circumcision) that were done away with. Christianity’s intuition was correct: Israel’s restrictive diet is a daily reminder to be apart from the nations.” (Milgrom)

4i want one of thse mezuzahs!) The Jewish value of reverence for life was something fairly unique in that time and place in the world, and that value was reinforced by a myriad of laws, of which the dietary laws are just one of them.  “The list of prohibited animals forms a unified and coherent dietary system with the blood prohibition and the prescribed slaughtering technique whose clear, unambiguous purpose is to inculcate reverence for life.” (Milgrom)

5) Those rabbis didn’t like boundary-crossing: As for the exact nature of the categories of what is or is not forbidden, they actually follow a subtle but clear pattern.  

“In Genesis I, there are three elements of creation; water, air and earth. Each sphere has a peculiar mode of motion associated with it. However, creatures that cross boundaries are anomalies. Insects that fly but have four or more legs are an abomination, but if they have two legs to hop with they are edible. Birds that are carnivores are taboo because carrion contains blood and creepers engage in an indeterminate form of locomotion.” (Milgrom)

Creepers are neither fish, flesh nor fowl, and those that walked on the sea floor were viewed similarly as scavengers who ate the ‘life blood’ of other animals.

6) Forget the ‘hygiene hypothesis’ : Most interestingly, the theory most often recited in lay circles – that the dietary laws are mostly about hygiene — is the theory that holds the least water, although it’s not hard to see why it is so popular. Famous Jewish theologians of the Middle Ages, including Maimonides, wrote in support of that position.

“The hygiene hypothesis says that the forbidden animals are carriers of disease. The ancients discovered the harmful animals empirically and modern science has verified their findings: the pig is a bearer of trichinosis, the hare of tularemia, carrion eating birds harbor disease and fish without fins and scales attract disease because they are mud burrowers. … But there are weighty objections to this theory. For example, a camel, a prohibited animal, is a succulent delicacy for the Arabs to this day and there is no evidence that they suffer gastronomically. Also, if hygiene were the sole reason for the diet laws, why were they restricted to the animal kingdom? Why were poisonous plants not prohibited?” (Milgrom)

“There is no evidence of a broad nutritional or health-related basis for the specific dietary classifications of the Torah. It is more reasonable to assume a socioreligious basis for them.” (Levine)

I don’t know about you, dear readers, but these scholars completed convined me.

What do you think? If you disagree, what is your “proof”?

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