Kashrut* & Jesus

*(also kashruth or kashrus, כַּשְׁרוּת) is the set of Jewish dietary laws.

I've been reading a book called "Miriam's Kitchen" by Elizabeth Ehrlich. It's about a Jewish woman who slowly eases into keeping a kosher kitchen. Raised by somewhat nominal Jewish parents, her husband's parents continue to hold fast to a diet deemed acceptable by the Torah. Her mother-in-law, Miriam, serves as one of her main guides during the journey, seemingly unaware of the inner-battle going on within Elizabeth to learn, understand, and implement the Jewish diet in her own home.

For the past few days, I've been stuck on this one passage that Ehrlich writes. I was shocked when 130 pages into the book, she wrote one paragraph about Jesus. Five days after reading that paragraph, I still can't get it out of my head.

Ehrlich writes,

"Kashrut, I believe, gave Jesus his great opening. He ate with the common people in their homes, when other learned teachers wouldn't. Poor folk might not have had enough wooden bowls, ceramic vessels, and cooking implements to adhere perfectly to dietary laws. They might not have enough knowledge or resources to make their kitchens kosher enough for the standards of a truly learned man. Jesus swallowed his own squeamishness, perhaps, sat down and broke bread. You can get to heaven without all of this, he taught. I can see the appeal. But oddly enough, and at the same time, trying to be kosher confronts one with the ultimate impossibility of perfection. Finally you have to live with your accommodations, the limits of being human. As with a calculus problem, the solution may draw close to an imaginary line, but never quite get there. At least, I'm sure I never will."

I love how Ehrlich shows that trying to keep a kosher kitchen is just another reminder of our inability to live perfectly; we can't do it on our own. It's been such an adventure to read this book while also reading a chapter-a-day of Leviticus, and reading through Acts. It's neat to see the juxtaposition of sacrificial offerings for atonement of sin (Leviticus) alongside the Council of Jerusalem's decision not to force Gentiles to live as Jews (Acts).

I like where Peter says, "Why do you try to test God by putting on the necks of the disciples a yoke that neither we nor our fathers have been able to bear? No! We believe it is through the grace of our Lord Jesus that we are saved, just as they are." (Acts 15:10-11).

I think that, as an outsider to Judaism, it's easy to point fingers and say, "Oh, but to live like that is so hard!" But to hear Peter say, "a yolk that neither we nor our fathers have been able to bear," I feel like I can hear the commitment in his voice. Maybe he is pointing out that the laws found in the Torah were their sacrifice to give to God, in remembrance of his promise that the Messiah would come. Maybe he was saying that even though they had been waiting for the promised Messiah for generations, and even though the Gentiles hadn't experienced the same sacrificial waiting, salvation was still extended to them all, through the power of the Holy Spirit.

I wonder if the Jewish Christians who had concerns about the new Gentile Christians kept on with their Kashrut diet. Somehow, I think they did. Even though their salvation was no longer to be found in their attempts to keep the perfect Kosher kitchen or by celebrating all the Jewish observances as immaculately as possible, it was another way to remind themselves that no matter how hard they tried to separate the milk from the meat, no matter how hard they tried to rid their kitchens of flour during the Feast of the Unleavened Bread, they still fell short. The only difference was, now they looked back to the cross, being reminded that Jesus was the atonement they still needed, and their perfection was still not possible through their sacrifices, but through his sacrifice on the cross.