When I was younger and had a different chevra (of secular Jewish public school kids), I was invited to a treif sushi restaurant. I figured I would just hang out with them and not eat anything. Even though we’d hung out before, this was the first time I sat down to eat with them in a treif restaurant. When you are in the company of others who are eating and you aren’t, the energy isn’t quite the same. So after 20 minutes of feeling very insecure and scrutinized, I left. Walking back to my car, I remember wondering why Hashem made laws like kashrut and Shabbos, which by their very essence separate Jews from everyone else. What’s the big deal about hanging out and enjoying a wonderful dinner along with friends, Jewish and non-Jewish alike. Why couldn’t I just blend in with the gang and perhaps just have some fish and a salad?
A constant theme found throughout Judaism is the idea of separation. Whether G-d refers to us as a holy nation that shall “dwell alone,” or that we should distinguish ourselves by our language, dress, restaurants, schools and shuls. This unique distinction is found within the Torah as we are constantly reminded to separate meat and milk, Shabbos and chol, life and death, tamei and tahor, matzah and chametz, wool and linen…
This theme pervades Judaism because Hashem wants us to realize that the soul of a Jew is different from others.
Different as in holy.
And just as the finest gold can only be obtained by separating it from impurities, so too, for the Jew to shine and be a light unto the nations, he must separate himself from the impurities of the world.
Because we are different, the world by de facto views us as differently, harboring jealousy and hatred towards us as evidenced by the Black Plague, Chelminski massacre, Crusades, Spanish Inquisition, Haman, Hitler, Nasser, Hussein, Sinwar, Hamas and most recently, October 7, all remind us just how different we really are. The double standard that Israel is held to, coupled with the world’s vile response to antisemitism, only deepens the alienation, so many Jews feel after October 7. The fact that we have to justify defending ourselves while evildoers still hold hostages boggles the mind.
A while back, the first hostages came out, I recall viewing a video with a split-screen down the middle showing Hamas’s insidious reaction on one side juxtaposed with the Israelis on the other side. The difference between good and evil was palpable.
On one side stood a nation of angels, whose hearts bled with the pain experienced by their respective brothers and sisters, filled with love and tears. L’havdil, on the other side stood what can only be described as the epitome of evil: faceless, barbarians celebrating the release of 3,000 risha’im, many of whom are known terrorists responsible for crimes against humanity.
As my wife put it, on one side are angels crying for the return of their babies and on the other side, the devil crying for more death. The separation on that screen between good and evil could not have been clearer. The Torah, by its very definition, epitomizes truth. We believe in the sanctity of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. L’havdil, they believe in the sanctity of death and the pursuit of evil (through suicide, murder, torture, rape, beheading) – all in the name of G-d.
On the side of good stands a nation that values higher education, hard work, and contributing to the betterment of the world and society at large. And we’ve got the technology and Nobel prizes to prove it.
They believe in Sharia law, covering up women and abusing them, and raising their kids to become suicide martyrs.
We give the world monotheism, the polio vaccine, the stent, Waze, Levi’s jeans, and the pacemaker.
They give the world martyrs who blow up babies.
To quote my father-in-law, Rav Mordechai Weiss, shlita: “Hamas has fostered a culture that celebrates the degradation of human life and the people of Gaza aren’t bystanders or innocent civilians, but rather they support and celebrate death-driven agendas. Hamas is an organization built on the glorification of death, where suffering and torture are seen as active resistance with methods steeped in terror and violence. Israel celebrates life, the Israeli state is driven by a desire for peace, prosperity, and coexistence. We celebrate the birth of our babies and pray that they will become Bnei Torah and contributors to society.”
Their contribution to the world? 9-11, airline hijackings, October 7, cemetery desecration, human mutilation, Munich, Arafat, Sinwar, Isis, Farakhan, Hamas, Talib and AOC…
Thinking back on that night 35 years later, I probably would’ve told myself: “Avi, there’s a multitude of reasons why G-d tells us to keep kosher. Aside from elevating our souls by only eating clean fish as opposed to bottom feeders like shrimp and catfish, G-d wants us to avoid carnivores that eat other animals (lions or sharks) and to avoid eating pigs who live in filth. G-d demands that we slaughter the animal in the least painful, most respectful manner.
“But G-d clearly wants the Jew to separate milk from meat as well, because we are a holy nation and this very separation was not designed to limit us in any way, but rather, to protect us from the toxic elements of a very impure world.”
So while breaking bread in a treif restaurant with friends doesn’t seem like a big deal, the bigger implication means I wasn’t distinguishing myself from everyone else. I wasn’t separating from the shmutz and allowing myself to shine like the finest gold, realizing my true value. I didn’t consider the spiritual impurities I was being exposed to every time I ate out in the wrong places.
But that could only happen when I started keeping 100% kosher.
Well, it’s been almost 35 years since that night, and the proof is in the pudding. Hindsight is 20/20. Perhaps, because of these decisions, Hashem granted me a true aishes chayil and family, baruch Hashem. Sadly, most of the people at that dinner – if not all – aren’t frum at all, and some even intermarried.
Too often, we look at the mitzvot as restrictive and limiting, failing to understand that their ultimate purpose is to free man from the bondage of himself. The alcoholic who drinks beyond his limit has the freedom to do whatever he wants, but is he really free? The diabetic who eats jelly donuts by the hour is certainly free in his choices, but how free can he be when his appearance, health and very life are compromised? True freedom means becoming the best version of yourself, where our actions and beliefs are in sync with one another. This ultimately brings an inner peace that can only be attained by living a genuine Torah life.
Beyond an inner peace, it also provides us with the Divine protection we need now more than ever as the world rallies against us, as Hashem tells us in Devarim, “If you carefully observe all these commands I am giving you to follow – to love the L-rd your G-d, to walk in obedience to him and to hold fast to him – then the L-rd will drive out all these nations before you, and you will dispossess nations larger and stronger than you.
It’s true that many halachot like kashrut, head covering, or even wearing tzizit remind us that we are indeed a nation that dwells alone. Yet when we bring Hashem into our world and live a life filled with Torah and mitzvot, we are hardly alone at all.
