On Keeping Kosher and Becoming Vegetarian

What follows is an excerpt from a presentation I gave recently in which I talked about my journey into vegetarianism:

My next remake of my life with food was when I started to observe the dietary laws of Judaism, that is, when my kitchen became kosher. For those of you who may not be familiar with these dietary regulations, they revolve around four basic principles, drawn from the biblical text and elaborated upon by the rabbis and centuries of tradition: 1) only prescribed animals can be eaten, and the lists are set out in the biblical text; 2) the animal cannot have “died in the field” and must be slaughtered according to certain principles; 3) the blood cannot be consumed with the meat (the life is in the blood); and 4) milk and meat, broadly defined, are not mixed.

It seems clear to me that the laws of kashrut are one way of dealing with the Great Paradox, that is, with the intersection between life and death and our implication in causing the death of other creatures to sustain our own lives. Carrots are not circumscribed with elaborate rules – just meat. The original order of creation did not include meat-eating (in the Garden).  After the flood, meat-eating is permitted – but it is surrounded with rules, and the rules are elaborated as time moves forward.

The rules are in place not to generate guilt over meat eating or to suggest that it is not ok but to allow us to eat meat while straightforwardly facing the reality of what we are doing. It provides a way to manage our responsibility for taking a life. A blessing before and /or after eating is yet another way of raising consciousness about the source of our food and of our own responsibility for both taking life and contributing to life.

I became vegetarian a third time in the late 90s when I was invited to teach a class on vegetarianism at a weekend retreat. I had a chance to explore some texts more deeply as I prepared for the session and then to live out the meaning of the texts in the framework of a weekend devoted to wilderness training and Judaism. I am still vegetarian today, 15 years later. This time I believe it is finally sustainable – and expandable. My Phase III vegetarianism is inspired by joy and meaning.

I can best describe what I mean by this by telling you about a weekend I spent camping a number of years ago. I liked taking my two dogs and heading out for weekend camping trips on a regular basis. It was always a rush to get to my campsite on Friday early enough that I could set up my campsite and prepare my Sabbath meals. We are required to enjoy three meals on Shabbat, the Jewish Sabbath, all to be prepared before the Sabbath begins since no cooking is allowed during those 25 hours. I don’t know why I remember this particular weekend, but I had my two beagles, and I had prepared a particularly delicious vegetarian Shabbat dinner for myself. Everything was ready, and I lit my candles just before sundown and said the blessings.

There was something about that vegetarian feast in that moment and place on a warm evening with a beautiful sunset over the Mississippi and my two dogs by my side – that felt harmonious and complete. It was a rich moment, and it was one of the most joyful meals I have ever eaten. I felt fulfilled, I felt like “all was right with the world” – and I felt as though I was part of a harmonious whole. This is what I was seeking through all those years of experimentation and searching and obsessing . . . the ability to be alive with full consciousness, to eat delicious food with joy and to feel that I was living in harmony with creation. For me, this was the ultimate Slow Food experience – a meal with meaning.