Still Cravy – Parshat Re’eh 5776

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When I was pregnant, all I wanted to eat was French fries, soft serve ice cream, pizza, and peanut butter. Literally, all the time. Of course the choice was mine. I could eat those amazingly craveable foods and satisfy the urge, but I would probably gain an obscene amount of weight during the pregnancy. Or I could really listen to what my body needed in those moments and continue to maintain my mostly healthy lifestyle, perhaps satisfying the cravings in moderation. Usually, I ended up compromising somewhere in the middle. It’s hard to win when it comes to cravings. Even now that I’m not pregnant anymore, I’m constantly trying to find the middle ground between what my body needs and what my brain tells me I want.

One of the best pieces of advice I’ve received on my journey in pursuit of daily health and fitness is to listen to your body, to know what your body needs. If you’re bruising a lot, you might need iron; if you’re chronically tired, try reducing the carbs. As you might presume, conscious eating isn’t a new medical theory. In fact, the idea of being conscious about our cravings and what we put into our bodies started as early as our Torah.

We read parshat Re’eh this week as the Torah races to the finish line of its lessons for us. In our parshah we learn about the blessings and curses that will come with observance (or lack thereof) of the mitzvot we’re given. We receive some final warnings about following the laws against idolatry, laws for keeping kosher, and the importance of treating each other as equals. Finally, we receive some more information on our three pilgrimage festivals.

Within the laws about kashrut (Jewish ethical and spiritual eating) we begin to engage in the conversation about how and what we’re supposed to eat. As the text details the laws of ethical slaughter, the Torah very clearly describes in chapter 12, verse 20 that when someone has the urge to eat meat, he may, as long as time and care are taken to obtain that meat. This is the difference, according to renowned Torah scholar Rabbi Abraham Isaac Kook, between human beings and animals. Rabbi Kook suggests that an animal does not have the mental capacity to weigh urges and instincts against careful thought. Human beings, on the other hand, take into account ethical, rational, and thoughtful behavior.

Of course in the past century, science has been able to uncover much more about the way animals act, respond, and communicate. However, the Torah still commands us to employ thoughtful consideration before eating and to obey rules like not eating the blood of animals, pausing to offer blessing, and choosing certain foods over others. Beyond kashrut, our parshah this week reminds us that eating right, like other aspects of our lives, is about balancing urges with intelligence to make decisions that are right for us.

Raining Cats and Dogs – Parshat Eikev 5776

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Like many children, when I was growing up I had a chore chart. I received monetary compensation for doing small jobs around the house like making my bed, getting the mail, and putting away my laundry. One special responsibility of mine was taking care of our family pet. Part of my allowance was earned for giving our dog her treats in the morning and at night, and for making sure she had food in her bowl. Caring for a pet is often one of the first responsible acts we give our children. Even now at three years old, my daughter Shiri is responsible for helping us feed our dog Stanley at breakfast each morning and at dinner each night.

What you may not know is that feeding your pet is not just a good entry-level chore for a little one, but is actually mandated in our Torah portion this week. Parshat Eikev teaches us in many different ways how to build a community. It begins by asking us to make the choice whether or not we will live according to God’s laws. If we make the “wise” choice, we will be blessed and increase the love and acceptance in the world. Adhering to these laws means, at a basic level, remembering to say please and thank you. On another level, it means remembering that we are a part of something bigger.

Chapter 11, verse 15 implores, “I will also provide grass in the fields for your cattle – and thus shall you eat your fill.” The Talmudic commentators took special notice of the order of the words in this verse. The rain doesn’t allow us to eat first; rather, the rain comes so our animals will eat and then we will eat. In other words, the Talmud teaches us that one may not eat before feeding one’s animals. It isn’t just a chore to feed your pets, it is a mitzvah. Taken further, the verse reminds us that our responsibility is to take care of others who cannot take care of themselves before satisfying our own needs. In fact, our own hunger only adds to our empathy for others who are hungry.

God’s weekly chore list includes many obligations to others, but most important is remembering those who cannot feed (or take care of) themselves, including our pets. Responsibility comes in all shapes and sizes, but you’re never too young to learn what it means to care for others.

Original Recipe – Parshat Vaetchanan 5776

Original Recipe

On my father’s side of the family, I come from a line of what I like to call “creative in the kitchen” people.  My Nana was an excellent cook and baker, and my Uncle Larry is an executive chef who loves recipe development.  There are certain dishes that played starring roles in family meals for as long as I can remember.  If you ever want to talk food, ask me about rancho beans or my Nana’s peanut-butter-wrapped, chocolate-dipped cherries.  Those, by the way, were a featured dessert treat at our wedding reception.

I inherited this duality of a love of the classics plus a willingness to add my own spin.  No doubt the basic recipes are fantastic, but I also like to experiment in the kitchen.  That might just mean playing around with my challah recipe by adding chocolate chips or a cinnamon sugar crust if I’m in a sweet mood. For me, the recipe on its own is merely the starting point for the adventure, but in general, following the directions will lead you to the expected outcome.

The Torah provides us with a similar guideline.  It’s considered the instruction manual for living a Jewish life, or in other words, the recipe book.  But one of the biggest puzzles in Judaism is determining how much can we stray from the original recipe and still maintain the integrity of the flavor and structure of the dish, so to speak.

Parshat Vaetchanan, the Torah portion we read this week, continues with the retelling of the laws again here in the book of Deuteronomy.  We also read about God’s persistent refusal to allow Moshe to enter the Land of Israel.  The Torah then issues a caution to uphold the mitzvot as the key to building an Israelite society.  Moshe then sets three cities of refuge, and we receive probably the most well-known instruction in the Torah, the Shema.  

Here’s where we step into the kitchen.  Chapter 4, verse 2 reads, “You shall not add anything to what I command you or take anything away from it, but keep the commandments of the Lord your God that I enjoin upon you.”  Well, that seems clear.  Right there the Torah tells us that this is a recipe for the community to follow to a T.  And yet, as you may have noticed, the world we live in is different than the biblical world of the Torah.  No big shocker.  You just have to go back to the red heifer in Bamidbar to see that many of our original mitzvot aren’t applicable today.  So we’re left with the dilemma of how to live in a Torah-dictated, post-Torah world when we’re commanded not to change it?

The way we’re able to do this without rupturing the space-time continuum is by acknowledging the truth in the words “etz chaim hi.”  It is a tree of life.  We see the Torah as a living organism, and we have precedent for clarifying and extending the laws so that the Torah can change and evolve, adapting to present day.  The tree that is watered and pruned thrives.  The tree that is confined and starved does not.

Going back to the recipe for Jewish living, we’re not taking anything away from the Torah when we apply a modern-day philosophy.  Instead, we’re adding to the recipe to ensure its success for years to come.  Parshat Vaetchanan warns us about changing something that has lived, breathed, and inspired for so many years because it’s a good basic recipe.  But the Torah as a whole teaches us that recipes, like our laws and traditions, are the foundation.  They tie us to the past and give us a jumping-off place for the future.  Your Judaism means adding dash of this, a pinch of that.  The point is just get in the kitchen and cook.  No matter what, you’re going to make Nana proud.