Author: Meir Goldstein
The Prophecy of Animal Treatment
In one of my favorite scenes from the Simpsons, Marge runs into Reverend Lovejoy, her minister and says: “Good morning, Reverend, are you here to perform last rites?” Reverend Lovejoy responds, “No, Marge, that’s Catholic; I might as well do voodoo.”
It’s rather easy to see other peoples’ rituals and customs as bizarre. But, hey, we’re Jews. We don’t need to look to others, when we have so many bizarre rituals of our own. And parashat Hukkat is no exception. In fact, this week we begin with what might be called the mother of all bizarre mitzvot.
Parah Adumah, or the red heifer, the story goes that we sacrifice red cow without any blemishes on the altar. The subsequent ashes are essential to purification and priestly duties.
In the Mishnah, Parah Adumah is so important that the rabbis spend an entire book dedicated to its details. The importance of our ritual is underlined not only by how the animal is treated, but by how boy who participates in leading the heifer is treated as well. In fact, the boy’s purity was essential to the process. So much so that he was guarded his entire life, prohibited from ever leaving the Temple Mount.
A parallel exists between the boy and the heifer that is instructive for our lives. Both are pure, both are perfect, and both are alone. Each has been raised for someone else’s purpose, each is viewed solely through the utilitarian lens—what can this other, this thing provide for us? Each has been sentenced to a prison-like upbringing due to our communal needs.
Parah Adumah has grave implications upon our food industry. For both parah adumah and for the boy, we viewed them first in terms of our own needs—thus turning them into things instead of fellow creatures, thus turning us into prison guards and beneficiaries of inhumane practices. We learn, then, that reifying an other—turning them into an object rather than recognize their subject-hood—is a first step in degrading their lives.
The time has come to completely relinquish the nostalgia for animal sacrifice—both in the ancient Temple as well as in industrial meat. Perhaps by ceasing our dependence on food that is produced by abusing animals, we will empower ourselves to stand strong in opposition to food that is produced by abusing the workers as well. Shabbat Shalom.
Rabbi Meir Goldstein was ordained by Ziegler School of Rabbinic studies and loves music, riding his bike, and teaching. He is the rabbi of Commack Jewish Center in Commack, New York.
In one of my favorite scenes from the Simpsons, Marge runs into Reverend Lovejoy, her minister and says: “Good morning, Reverend, are you here to perform last rites?” Reverend Lovejoy responds, “No, Marge, that’s Catholic; I might as well do voodoo.”
It’s rather easy to see other peoples’ rituals and customs as bizarre. But, hey, we’re Jews. We don’t need to look to others, when we have so many bizarre rituals of our own. And parashat Hukkat is no exception. In fact, this week we begin with what might be called the mother of all bizarre mitzvot.
Parah Adumah, or the red heifer, the story goes that we sacrifice red cow without any blemishes on the altar. The subsequent ashes are essential to purification and priestly duties.
In the Mishnah, Parah Adumah is so important that the rabbis spend an entire book dedicated to its details. The importance of our ritual is underlined not only by how the animal is treated, but by how boy who participates in leading the heifer is treated as well. In fact, the boy’s purity was essential to the process. So much so that he was guarded his entire life, prohibited from ever leaving the Temple Mount.
A parallel exists between the boy and the heifer that is instructive for our lives. Both are pure, both are perfect, and both are alone. Each has been raised for someone else’s purpose, each is viewed solely through the utilitarian lens—what can this other, this thing provide for us? Each has been sentenced to a prison-like upbringing due to our communal needs.
Parah Adumah has grave implications upon our food industry. For both parah adumah and for the boy, we viewed them first in terms of our own needs—thus turning them into things instead of fellow creatures, thus turning us into prison guards and beneficiaries of inhumane practices. We learn, then, that reifying an other—turning them into an object rather than recognize their subject-hood—is a first step in degrading their lives.
The time has come to completely relinquish the nostalgia for animal sacrifice—both in the ancient Temple as well as in industrial meat. Perhaps by ceasing our dependence on food that is produced by abusing animals, we will empower ourselves to stand strong in opposition to food that is produced by abusing the workers as well. Shabbat Shalom.
Rabbi Meir Goldstein was ordained by Ziegler School of Rabbinic studies and loves music, riding his bike, and teaching. He is the rabbi of Commack Jewish Center in Commack, New York.
A d'var torah about a modern application of the red heifer story. Originally distributed for the Hazon CSA listserve.