מי כעמך ישראל

Much of Parashat Shemini is devoted to the basic laws of kashrut, outlining which living creatures are forbidden for consumption and which are permissible. In the final pesukim, the Torah forbids eating insects, and then concludes:

כי אני ה' המעלה אתכם מארץ מצרים להיות לכם לאלוקים, והייתם קדושים כי קדוש אני.

For I am Hashem who brought you up from the land of Egypt to be your G-d; you shall be holy, for I am holy.

There are many mitzvot which the Torah associates with Yetziat Mitzrayim, commanding us to observe them because Hashem took us out of Egypt to be His faithful servants. Here, however, as Rashi notes, the Torah says something slightly different. The Torah here says not that Hashem took us out from Egypt, but rather that He brought us up from Egypt. Normally, the Torah uses the term מוציא (“take out”) in reference to the Exodus, but in this pasuk, the word is מעלה – saying that Hashem “raised” us from Egypt.

Rashi explains the significance of the word מעלה in this context: “If I brought Yisrael up from Egypt only so that they would not defile themselves with insects, like other nations, this would be enough.” Somehow, the word מעלה in this pasuk indicates that our refraining from non-kosher food was enough of a reason for Hashem to bring us out of Egypt. What does this mean? What is so special about this mitzva that it alone would suffice as a reason for us to leave Egypt, and what does this have to do with מעלה, our having been “elevated” from Egypt?

The “Difficulty” of Splitting the Sea

Having just recently concluded our observance of Pesach, and our celebrating on the final days of Pesach the miracle of קריעת ים סוף – the splitting of the sea – let us begin our answer by briefly examining this miracle.

The Gemara makes the famous comment that making matches – bringing a man and woman together for marriage – is as “difficult” for Hashem as the splitting of the Yam Suf. This was also said in reference to earning a livelihood; providing a person with adequate sustenance, too, is as “difficult” for G-d as the miracle of קריעת ים סוף.

The question is obvious: was קריעת ים סוף difficult for Hashem to do? Did He have to work any harder to split the sea than He does to make the sun rise every morning, or to control the weather, make nature run so perfectly, and make every cell in every creature’s body operate? The intricacy of the natural world is simply mind-boggling, and Hashem created and maintains each and every tiny component of the universe at every millisecond, in perfect fashion. Was it really “difficult” for Him to make a sea split?

The answer is that the “difficulty” spoken of by the Gemara refers to the “difficulty” as seen through the eyes of Beneh Yisrael during those moments when they found themselves trapped against the sea by the pursuing Egyptian army.

The Midrash relates that when the people watched in trepidation as the Egyptians pursued them, the heavenly angels turned to Hashem and asked, “Why are these different from these?” Meaning, why did Beneh Yisrael deserve to be saved and the Egyptians to be drowned? Beneh Yisrael were assimilated in Egypt, and worshipped idols just like their Egyptian neighbors. There was no real difference between the two peoples. Therefore, the angels argued, there was no reason for G-d to save Beneh Yisrael. Hashem responded by noting that there was, in fact, an enormous difference between His beloved nation and the cruel, arrogant Egyptians. With all of Beneh Yisrael’s faults, they were still a special people. They stood at the sea unified in prayer, pleading to Hashem for help. They were unique and special. And they deserved to be saved.

This was the “difficulty” of קריעת ים סוף – the difficulty of recognizing that we are worthy of Hashem’s special assistance and protection. It wasn’t hard at all for Hashem to split the sea. But it was very hard for Beneh Yisrael to realize that they deserved to be miraculously saved.

We’re Incredible!

This “difficulty” is something we all very often experience, for very good reason. We are all accustomed to hearing and speaking about everything that’s wrong with the Jewish Nation. And to be sure, there is plenty of room for improvement. We speak incessantly about how we don’t get along, how so many Jews have abandoned the faith, how so many Jews who consider themselves religious are less than meticulous in their observance, how the more observant Jews look down upon others, how we can never agree on anything, how we have so many embarrassing scandals, how so many people talk in shul, and so on and so forth. There is no denying that these problems exist and must be addressed. But this is not the whole story. In fact, it’s only a very small part of the story.

Once in a while – actually, more than once a while; this should be done every day! – we need to take a step back and appreciate just how incredible we are.

There is a phenomenon in the Jewish world that we’ve become so accustomed to that we fail to recognize just how special it is, and how fortunate we are. Anytime a Jew faces some kind of trouble or crisis, there are dozens, and often hundreds or even thousands, of fellow Jews on call ready to step in and help. Right here in our community, each and every one of us can probably count around ten or twenty occasions when a family was in trouble and the community mobilized to help. We have dozens upon dozens of hesed organizations devoted to helping people in need without expecting anything in return. Whether a family is beset by illness, financial trouble, or any other kind of serious problem – there are large groups of people ready to help. This is so much a part of our communal life that we just take it for granted. We don’t appreciate just how precious this is – that we all live knowing that whenever we have a problem, we have scores of people eagerly prepared to help us out. We are so fortunate to live with this kind of security – something that few, if any, other people enjoy.

This special quality of the Jewish Nation is beautifully expressed by the Midrash in describing the events of קריעת ים סוף. The Mishna in Pirkeh Avot (5:4) tells that ten different miracles occurred at the time the sea split, and these miracles are enumerated by the commentators, based on the Midrashim. One of the miracles was that twelve separate lanes formed through the water, so that each tribe could pass through on its own. Another miracle was that the walls separating the different lanes were transparent, so that the tribes all saw each other passing through.

We must wonder, why was such a miracle necessary? Why was it so important for each tribe to see the other tribes as they crossed through the sea? As long as the entire nation passed through to safety, what difference would it have made if they saw or could not see the others?

The answer is that we’re Am Yisrael. We cannot cross safely without ensuring that all our brethren are also crossing safely. This is just how we are. It would not have been enough for the families of Reuven to cross through the sea without seeing their distant cousins in the other lanes crossing. We are programmed to look out for one another. This is part of what makes us great.

Of course, we should not be going around bragging. Part of being a great nation is acting and speaking respectfully, sensitively and kindly to all people, without ever looking down at them. And of course we should not be ignoring the many problems that we need to fix. But at the same time, we need to feel proud. We should wake up each morning feeling excited about who we are, about what kind of nation we are part of.

Our Special Sensitivity

G-d did not just bring us out of Egypt. המעלה אתכם – He elevated us, raising us to an entirely different standard. And this is the reason behind the Torah’s strict dietary code.

If we return from the butcher and forget to put the raw meat in the freezer, and it stays out all night, we would, naturally, discard it. We wouldn’t eat it, because it would likely make us sick. But if we leave it outside, animals, birds and insects would eagerly eat it. Human beings are higher-level creatures, and so our bodies have a higher level of sensitivity. Our bodies cannot tolerate the things that other creatures can tolerate, because our bodies are more refined and delicate due to our unique stature, having been created in the image of G-d.

At the time of Yetziat Mitzrayim, G-d elevated us above other people. From that point on, we cannot eat the kind of foods that other people can eat. We were propelled to a higher level, and so our beings are more sensitive.

This is the meaning of Rashi’s comment. He is telling us that the laws of kashrut demonstrate the reason why Hashem took us from Egypt – to elevate us, to raise us above the norm. We were given our freedom in order to become an exceptional nation, and just as humans cannot eat the same food that animals eat, an exceptional nation cannot eat the same food that other nations eat.

This explains some of the intriguing differences that exist between the various kinds of creatures vis-à-vis kashrut. Halachah distinguishes between three types of creatures: fish, birds, and land animals. Fish do not require any procedure to be made permissible for consumption. A fish belonging to a kosher species (meaning, it has fins and scales) may be eaten once it is drawn from the water and dies. Nothing more needs to be done. Birds and land animals, by contrast, require shehitah. Another distinction exists between birds and land animals. The slaughtering of a kosher bird – such as a chicken – is valid if either its trachea or its esophagus is severed. The chicken may be eaten even if just one of these two pipes has been slaughtered. With regard to land animals, however, the guidelines are stricter. Their meat is forbidden for consumption unless both the trachea and the esophagus have been severed. Why?

These different categories of creatures represent different levels of spirituality. Fish, which reside in natural bodies of water, are considered “pure.” Natural bodies of water can serve as a mikveh, and thus bring purity. In a certain sense, therefore, fish are considered pure, and so they do not require any action to be fit for consumption by a Jew. Birds reside mainly in the sky, and are thus closer to spirituality. Therefore, they require less intensive preparation to be fit for consumption than land animals, which tread the earth and are purely mundane.

These laws reflect our special sensitivity, how we require special food because we are a special people. The strict laws of kashrut should not be viewed as a nuisance. They are a sign of our royal stature, of the higher level of existence that we are expected to adhere to, and for which we were taken from Egypt and taken by Hashem as His treasured nation.

“This is the Real Us”

I will never forget the scene on the streets of my Brooklyn neighborhood on the last night of Pesach one year, when, towards the end of our Yom Tov meal, we received word that an autistic boy from our community, who lived across the street from me, was missing. I left to join the search, and what a sight it was to behold. Throngs of Jews of all stripes and colors, who were supposed to be around the table with their families enjoying the final night of Yom Tov, were crawling around the neighborhood in search of the missing youngster. Ashekanazic, Sephardic, Hassidic, “not-so-religious,” “very religious,” black hats, no hats, men and women, young and old, white shirts and colored shirts – you name it, I saw it on the streets that night. People were storming the control center that was set up to organize the search by neighborhoods. Groups would leave to do their search and then return an hour later to get their next assignment.

Thousands of Jews mobilized to search for a boy they did not know and who would never be able to say “thank you.” Many of these people had never had anything to do with the Syrian Jewish community before that night. It didn’t matter. They knew a Jew was missing, and so they knew they needed to help find him. They did not allow themselves to “cross the sea” alone with their families, to enjoy a Yom Tov meal and then have a good night’s sleep, if somebody from a different “tribe” was in trouble.

And when, at around midnight, it was confirmed that the boy was found, these crowds of people erupted in festive singing and dancing, celebrating the fact that a fellow Jew in danger whom they never knew was rescued.

I met there a woman from Lakewood whose husband I know and who was in Brooklyn for the holiday. As we marveled together at this remarkable sight, she commented, “This is the real us.”

How correct she was. We talk a lot about the divisions in the Jewish world, how fractured we are, how we can’t get along, how we fight with each other. This is an important conversation to have, but there is also another important conversation that we need to have – a much happier conversation, about how fortunate we are to be part of such a special people. The “real us” is a nation of people who look out for one another, who care for one another, who generously assist one another, who make sacrifices for one another, and who give of themselves for one another. And we need to recognize this and feel proud and fortunate, even as we work to improve and make ourselves even better.

Kindness, Jewish Style

One of the birds which the Torah in Parashat Shemini labels as non-kosher is the חסידה (commonly identified as the stork). Our Sages teach that the חסידה is so named because of its special quality of חסד. As Rashi writes, עושה חסידות עם חברותיה במזונות – “It performs kindness for its friends with food.” Unlike most other creatures, the חסידה shares it food with its peers, rather than looking out only for itself.

Many have asked the question, if this is the distinguishing characteristic of the חסידה, then why does the Torah designate it as a non-kosher bird? There is nothing more beautiful than sharing. Why would this generous creature be considered forbidden and impure?

The answer that has been given is that a חסידה is considered impure because it is kind עם חברותיה – with its friends, with those that it knows and likes. It would never consider sharing with those outside its close circle.

This kind of חסד is not Jewish חסד. In fact, it is so drastically different from Jewish חסד that the Torah considers it “impure.” Our conception of kindness means extending ourselves even for those whom we do not know and do not necessarily like. It means being generous, sensitive and giving even to people with whom we disagree on very important matters, and whose lifestyles are different from ours. This is a crucial part of המעלה אתכם, the elevated status to which we have been raised. For us, it’s not enough to be nice to our friends and relatives. We need to be nice to everybody, even those well outside our inner circle. Being nice only to the people we like is considered “impure.” We have special standards of חסד, because we were elevated to a higher standard of living, a special standard that we are required to always maintain.

The Gemara teaches us that Hashem “wears” tefillin, so-to-speak, just as we wear tefillin. But whereas our tefillin contain certain portions of the Humash, Hashem’s tefillin contain the words, מי כעמך ישראל גוי אחד בארץ – “Who is like Your nation, Yisrael, a singular nation on earth.” When we put on tefillin, we think about Hashem’s greatness; when He puts on tefillin, as it were, He thinks about our greatness.

The Gemara teaches us this so that we will always remember that we are special and unique. We must live with a degree of pride and excitement over who we are. As mentioned earlier, this does not mean that we should boast about our accomplishments or ignore the many problems that need to be addressed. It does mean, however, that we should feel fortunate and blessed to belong to a very special nation, and devote ourselves to live each day on the especially high standards expected of this special nation, so that we bring honor and glory to the Jewish People, to the Torah, and to Hashem.