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Series
Short Thoughts
Belief: God made world, runs it. Remember that we don’t always see big picture. (14 words, 80 characters) link to similar
Kashrut is: following Torah laws for eating. Turns eating from physical to spiritual. Is not: for health reasons, or food blessed by rabbi. (23 words, 140 characters) link to similar
Shabbat: God rested, so do we. (6 words, 30 characters) link to similar
Tzniut: More than clothes, it’s how we present ourselves to world. Modesty both in dress and in actions. (18 words, 104 characters) link to similar
All Questions Answered by Rabbi Sari Laufer (Emerita)
Question: A friend recently lost both parents in the same week. At the funeral of the first parent he performed Kriah with a ribbon. Five days later at the second funeral not even the conservative rabbi was sure whether to tear a second ribbon or to further tear the first. In the end they decided on two ribbons. Is there correct halacha for such an instance?
First, my condolences to your friend. It must be an incredibly difficult and painful time for him, as he continues to process both of these losses.
Our ancient texts do not shy away from the experience of painful losses. Aaron, Moses’ brother, suffers the unspeakable loss of not one but two of his children. Because of the circumstances surrounding their death, Aaron is commanded NOT to observe what were, apparently, the expected mourning rituals of the time. Among the commands, the text teaches: “...Do not bare your heads and do not rend your clothes...” (Leviticus 10:6). Because he is enjoined NOT to rend his clothes, the rabbis of the Talmud (Moed Kattan, 24a) understand that keriah, or the tearing of a garment, is an obligation of a mourner. And, our tradition understands that the loss of a parent is a different experience from other losses; when we perform keriah for another relative, we tear the garment (or, in modern times—a ribbon) on the right side. But for a parent, we tear it on the left side—the side closest to our hearts.
In Jewish tradition, there is a clear distinction between mourners and everyone else. We mourn, according to Judaism, for parents, children, spouses, and siblings. In reality, of course, we grieve for so many others, just as others will grieve for our parents, children, spouses, and siblings. But, nonetheless, we recognize the uniqueness of those particular relationships, and our mourning customs do as well. They say that these relationships—no matter how complicated they might be—are the foundational relationships in our lives, and we mourn their loss differently than others do, or than we might grieve for other people in our lives.
When I explain the custom of keriah, I talk about the outward significance. I explain that anyone who encounters a mourner during shiva will know, by the simple fact of the ribbon, that they are the mourners, they are the ones who need comforting. That small piece of black fabric—or a torn garment—speaks for itself; it says: I am mourning, and it allows visitors to fill their respsonsibility to be nichum avelim, coming to comfort those who mourn.
As I understand the halakha, it is permitted to make two tears in a garment when two losses are suffered close together. And so, I think that wearing two ribbons in this case is an appropriate way to acknowledge that he experienced the death of not one, but two, close relatives in a short time span, and hopefully—to then be able to receive the support and comfort he might need.
May your friend be comforted amongst the mourners of Zion and Jerusalem.
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Question: It seems that as people are increasingly aware of where their food comes from and how the animals they consume are treated while alive, kosher eating might become more popular, even amongst non-Jews. How does the safe treatment of animals for consumption fit within kashrut dietary laws, and what is the modern take on non-Jews eating kosher as a way to eat healthier and more fairly?
In Sue Fishkoff’s new book, Kosher Nation, she explores the reasons why 86.2 percent of the 11.2 million Americans who regularly buy kosher food are not kashrut-observant Jews. There is no problem with non-Jews choosing to buy kosher products, or even maintaining the laws of kashrut; in fact, it seems almost trendy! But, I think anyone choosing to participate in the system of kashrut, particularly as practiced in America, should consider their reasons why.
Kashrut is a complex dietary system. Beginning with simple injunctions in the Torah, such as (Exodus 23:19, 34:26, and Deuteronomy 14:21) “Do not boil a kid in its mother’s milk,” the Torah gets more complex in Leviticus and Deuteronomy, listing explicitly the animals which are ritually permitted, and those which are not. No explicit reasoning is given, other than to say (Leviticus 11:44): You shall sanctify yourselves and be holy, for I am holy. While many over the years have suggested that kashrut was some sort of ancient attempt at food sanitation and health standards, Maimonides and others suggest otherwise; kashrut is not about health (though it could end up an incidental benefit), but about doing something for reasons of faith, community, and/or connection with the Divine.
Etz Hayim, the Torah commentary published by The Rabbinical Assembly (of Conservative Judaism) suggests the following regarding meat and kosher slaughter: The eating of meat requires killing a living creature, constantly seen by the Torah as a compromise. These laws elevate the eating of meat to a level of sanctity by introducing categories of permitted and forbidden. But, as the laws of kashrut developed, particularly in the rabbinic time, they grew ever more intricate and specific, and soon laws governed not only what animals could be eaten—but how they were slaughtered. Initially, the rules around slaughter were designed not only to meet standards of kashrut, but also so as not to violate the principle of tza’ar baalei chayim, not causing pain to living creatures. For that reason, kosher slaughter (shechita) has long been seen as one of the more ethical ways of slaughtering animals.
However, scandals in the news remind us that the ethics of kashrut are not only about the way the animal is slaughtered, but also about how the animal is treated while still alive; it should also be about the way the workers are treated as well. Samantha Shapiro, writing in the New York Times Magazine in October 2008, wrote the following about kosher slaughter: Is it simply about cutting an animal’s neck and butchering it in a specific way? Or is the ritual also meant to minimize an animal’s pain or to bring sanctity to its death? Does it matter how the animal was treated when it was alive? How about the workers who processed it? Is reverence for life possible in a factory-farming setting? For me, the answer to all of those questions must be yes. The laws of kashrut are no more binding or important than the many times that Torah reminds us (Deuteronomy 24:14-15) “You shall not oppress a hired servant who is poor and needy, whether he is of your brothers, or of your strangers who are in your land inside your gates.” Our ethical and ritual commands are intertwined, and one should not trump another. Therefore, anyone choosing kashrut as a path towards a more conscious, ethical way of eating should considering being a vocal part of the movement trying to reform the system of kashrut in the United States.
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Question: I am a nurse working 12 hr. shifts at night. When I began my current job my hiring boss allowed me to work 8 hr. nights on Saturday night, then two twelve hour nights Sunday and Monday. So I was always able to observe Shabbat because I didn't have to work until 11pm on Saturday night. Then that manager retired. Since then the eight hour shifts were eliminated. I must be off Tues. nights to prepare for lessons on Wednesday nights as I teach Hebrew school on Wednesdays. I requested to be off Tues, Weds, Fri, Sat. I was told I could have either Fri night or Sat. night off but not both. Since I am a nurse- and sick people don't take "time off", then as another Jewish friend reassures me, am I doing "divine work?" I happen to be Reform. I chose Fridays off so I can usher in Shabbat, but have to be at work by 6 pm on Saturday. What does Judaism say about this situation?
Obviously, the ideal work schedule would allow you to be off for the entire 25 hours of Shabbat, but in your case—as for many people—it seems like that is not an option. Most health-care workers—doctors, nurses, EMTs, etc—are allowed to do lifesaving work on Shabbat based on the principle of pikuach nefesh, the saving of a life. As my colleagues have written, this responsibility supersedes even the stringent rules of Shabbat.
It sounds like your schedule is set in such a way that Shabbat for you can be Friday night and Saturday through 6pm. My advice is to make Shabbat in any way that your schedule allows. Since your shift begins at 6pm on Saturday, perhaps you can find time or space within your shift to make havdallah, the ceremony separating Shabbat and the rest of the week, in the hospital.And because you are off on Friday night and most of Saturday, you have the experience to observe a meaningful and connected Shabbat practice. Here are some suggestions, if you don’t already do this: Light candles on Friday night, have Shabbat dinner, attendservices, read, study…..Good luck.
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Question: I know that it is not law, but custom, regarding Ashkenazim not naming babies after living relatives. However, I am very torn as I am about to have my 3rd (and last!) child. We have named our other 2 children's (English) middle names after deceased relatives. My grandmother is 85 and not doing well but we don't expect her to pass away anytime in the immediate future. I am her only grandchild and I would really like to honor her by naming our upcoming baby with her name as our baby's middle name; however I do not want to be doing something horribly wrong in other's eyes. Of course I do not wish my grandmother would die but the reality is she will at some point in the near future given her age while my child will likely live a long life and I think honoring my grandmother with her name as my child's middle name would be a special way to honor her. What do you think? My husband is fine with it but my in-laws are not sure. I am a convert (Conservative) so my family doesn't really have much input (however my grandmother is Jewish). Thank you!
As you stated from the very beginning, these customs around naming are just that—customs, and customs do change over time. A Reform Movement responsa on customs of naming does cite many instances in the Talmud where children were named for living figures; R. Nathan, a teacher of the second half of the second century, reports that in his travels he occasionally was able, by his advice, to save the lives of newborn children. The parents of those children, out of gratitude to him--and probably to suggest that their children will grow up and become men as good as R. Nathan--named their children Nathan, after him. (Chullin 49a).
But over time, the customs of naming responded to the folk superstitions of the time. In a book called Sefer HaChayim¸there is a teaching that "a man's name is his soul.” Tied up with this was the belief that one, and only one, person in possession of a certain soul identified with a special name can be living on earth. Hence, the long-standing Ashkenazi hesitance—even fear—of naming a child after a living parent or grandparent. Clearly, a superstition, but these superstitions do run deep. How comfortable do you feel with the superstitious side of you? Also, know that you will likely face some raised eyebrows and surprise should you choose to go in that direction.
I’d like to make two suggestions that might help you. First, it sounds like you should—before you do anything else—ask your grandmother how she feels about it.Or, could you imagine picking a middle name for your child that represents a quality in your grandmother that you particularly admire? Is it her strength? Her compassion? Her sense of humor? That way, you could honor your grandmother and her contribution to your life without giving your child “her” name.
B’sha-ah tovah—I wish you the best on this upcoming birth!
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Rabbi Sari R. Laufer
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THE VIEWS EXPRESSED IN ANSWERS PROVIDED HEREIN ARE THOSE OF THE INDIVIDUAL JVO PANEL MEMBERS, AND DO NOT
NECESSARILY REFLECT OR REPRESENT THE VIEWS OF THE ORTHODOX, CONSERVATIVE OR REFORM MOVEMENTS, RESPECTIVELY.
