Shabbat Shemini 2013

My first stop was the Dunkin' Donuts on Greenfield, and then I double-backed to the Bagel Factory at Twelve Mile and Telegraph. Since I was there anyway, I made a third stop as well: Starbucks. Thus began the first full day after Passover for this rabbi, husband and father. I called it Yom Chametz--the day for eating anything and everything we could not eat the previous eight days. Abba was happy. Eema was happy. And, perhaps most important of all, the children were extraordinarily happy. We, "somewhat" like our ancestors, had experienced going from slavery to freedom.

Why is it that at Passover time, more Jews celebrate their Judaism than any other time of the year? The statistics back it up, and of course, there are a number of reasons. I wonder if, then, in addition to the classic foods and the in-home, family-oriented Seder experience, so many Jews celebrate Passover because, subconsciously, we know there is meaning and power to giving something up. Perhaps it is through that giving something up (in the case of Passover, chametz) we become much more aware and appreciative of the tremendous blessings we have in our lives.

This week we read in the Torah Parashat Sh'mini. Our parashah comes to lay out for us the basic laws of Kashrut: permissible and forbidden animals of the land, sea and air. The "whys" of keeping kosher are few and far between, summarized by God's declaration (Lev. 11:44-45): "For I am the LORD your God-you shall sanctify yourselves and you will be holy, for I am holy; and you shall not contaminate your souls ... for I am the LORD Who elevates you from the land of Egypt to be a God unto you; you shall be holy, for I am holy." Non-kosher food, therefore, contaminates our soul and its consumption inhibits our holiness. Why? Ultimately, because God said so. But in avoiding these types of foods, the rewards are, apparently, heavenly.

We made it through Passover and, hopefully, found deep meaning and satisfaction in 1) the accomplishment and 2) the symbolism of avoiding chametz. For eight days, we felt what it was like to make personal sacrifices and thereby gain deeper holiness and purpose. As we now consider the laws of kashrut--a lifetime system of partaking and avoiding, let us also seek the great holiness and sense of purpose that comes with self-sacrifice and heeding God's word. And, like Passover, let us use our own self-sacrifice to remember those who are truly in need many more than eight days out of the year: the poor, the widow and the orphan. Let us commit ourselves to providing for their most basic needs, because we really only had a small taste of what it is like to go "without."

Rebecca, Caleb and Ayal join me in wishing you a Sabbath of holiness, rest and re-Jew-venation.