I am thinking a lot about food at the moment ... not because I am hungry as I write this post, but because I am in the midst of a twenty-one day cleanse. Under the guidance of Jen Nassi - my holistic health coach - Renee and I are participating in an exhaustive eating exercise. During these three weeks we are eliminating many foods that are common to our everyday diet and adding foods that will help our bodies remove toxins and work more efficiently.
For the first time in a long time (albeit collaterally) I am observing Kashrut. No meat, so no worries about animals’ cud chewing proclivities or the cleft-ness of their hooves. No dairy, so there is no cheese to put on that waiting hamburger (that I cannot eat). The cleanse maintains no ideological connection to these emblematic rituals of the Jewish Dietary laws. However, I believe that my cleanse and the spirit of Kashrut are profoundly connected. The traditional Jewish expression of eating properly has evolved into different sets of dishes of milk and meat and butchers who know how to kill and animal in a certain manner - there are other paths to follow from this original practice. Kashrut or Kosher means ‘fit’ or ‘proper’. In that sense the command to keep Kashrut can be understood as a charge to to produce and consume foods that are fit and proper - fit and proper for my body, for my spirit and for the world around me. Even though I have followed the traditional sense of Kashrut before in my life, during these three weeks I think I may be keeping kosher - eating ‘properly’ - in a way that I have never done before.
The idea of what is fit and proper for me (and the world) physically and spiritually contains a wide range of considerations. For example ... I pay close attention to how my body reacts and works quite differently when think so differently about the food I ingest. I observe how often I associate a choice of what to eat and when to eat it by an emotion (a treat for a long run or because I have had a long day). I notice the resources (time, money, intellectual) needed to make these choices. I pay attention to how what I choose to eat connects me to (Renee, with whom I am sharing this exercise) or disconnects me from (spending time with family and friends over meals, drinks, etc.) the social interactions that sustain me. I reflect upon the way I contribute to justice, compassion or peace for my world around me because of the way my food is produced and distributed.
I invite you to take a day to keep ‘kosher’ ... to simply pay attention to the ‘fitness’ of the food and drinks you choose to ingest for a day. Don’t even worry about changing anything you eat because of the attention you are paying to your food ... just consider what you put into your mouth for the day. Why are eating or drinking in that moment? What physical need does what you are choosing to eat or drink fulfill? (Hunger, exhaustion) What spiritual need does what you are choosing to eat or drinking fulfill? (Anxiety, loneliness, celebration). How will the nature of this particular food that you are ingesting affect your body and its function? How did the production of this kind of food affect other living things? (Animals, human beings, the environment)
There is great potential and even power in every single choice we make ... from the obvious life-changing choices to the mundane choice of everyday life that lose our attention and their meaning.
Welcome to Mo-Drash ... the weird confluence of the Jewish tradition of Midrash and me!
What is Midrash? Literally, the word derives from the Hebrew root that expresses interpretation. Figuratively, it is the process by which Jews read between the lines of our sacred stories and seek insight from what we discover from each story, verse, word, letter and stroke of the pen.
Who am I? My name is Adam Morris, but known by many as Rabbi Mo. I spend a lot of my time serving in the role of rabbi, but I am also a husband, a dad, a runner and a 'weekend' craftsman (among other things). I try to move like Abraham to find my Place ... to wrestle like Jacob to know my Place ... and to snicker like Sarah to keep me in my Place.
B'makom she-ani omayd (from The Place where I stand),