When I think about what my grandparent’s lives were like and I think about what Poale Zedeck meant to me, my mind naturally gets drawn to thoughts about the kosher way of living.
For my entire life I paid attention to others who were talking about the meaning of keeping kosher; mostly people who said that pork would “go bad” in that climate. But that doesn’t encompass all the meats we were not allowed to eat. The part about not eating a kid if it was boiled in its mother’s milk–yes, I agree, that must be a disagreeable sight but I wasn’t satisfied. My grandparents represented a big part of my life and my grandparents, especially my grandfather, were zealous about keeping to the rules. So what? What does it all mean?
There’s a book (on tape) called The Jewish Book of Why and it’s read by the actor Eli Wallach. I learned a lot from that as an adult. But it wasn’t enough for me because the image I get if my grandfather said “Once, just once, I’d like a Mineo’s pizza with sausage.” makes me laugh until I ache. So there was no longing there, no craving–just a craving to be a Jew and be a good Jew.
I tell people that my grandfather, for 50 years, ate the same lunch, Monday through Friday. He walked from his law office in downtown Pittsburgh to the Colonade which I’m sure isn’t there anymore, and got a plate with cottage cheese and fruit and a leaf of lettuce. Now–there are Jews who would argue that it WAS NOT KOSHER because the plate and fork certainly were not washed and dried using kosher materials. This is what I mean when it seems that no two Jewish homes keep kosher alike. (Anyone is free to argue with me about this.) However, this was my grandfather’s “thinking it over” and then making a compromise between two opposing forces.
What do I think? I’ve come to a decision that I don’t absolutely know is true–there could be no such thing–but a decision I believe and if you get peace of mind about a question like this, there is no point in arguing with yourself.
When the Hebrews were a tribe among many different tribes, they–if you believe in God or if you don’t–made a decision to eat different foods from their neighbors. They ruled out a lot of foods that the others ate. Also, and this was brought to my attention by the basic Reconstructionist book of essays and rules, the animals must be killed using one long gash of the knife–a clean and merciful death because we are a people of compassion.
I once looked up the word “treyf” and it is Hebrew for “torn apart.” I was overwhelmed by this and it put an end to my struggles with this part of my faith. WE ARE NOT LIKE ALL THOSE OTHERS WHO EAT CHAZZERAI. WE DON’T SHARE MEALS WITH THEM. WE DON’T WANT OUR SONS AND DAUGHTERS GOING OVER THERE FOR DINNER. WE WON’T PERMIT THE ANIMALS WE USE FOR FOOD MEET THEIR END BY BEING ‘TORN APART.’ WE HAVE SELF-CONTROL.
So what is this really all about? Keeping to the kosher way of life builds character. It makes you strong. These rules certainly kept my grandfather strong. It wasn’t something that he longed for but couldn’t have–it was something done with joy and with open arms.
lgmwriting 