Parsha dvarim

Mikets and Breaking bread / מקץ און עסן אין איינעם

The frustrations of kashrus and the importance of meal-sharing

Misha Holleb

Misha Holleb

— 5 min read
Mikets and Breaking bread / מקץ און עסן אין איינעם
Untitled/Title Unknown, by Lennart Rosensohn (b.1918–d.1994). Image depicts Jews in Jerusalem outside a kosher butchers.

This is a weekly series of frum, trans, anarchist parsha dvarim [commentaries]. It's crucial in these times that we resist the narrative that Zionism owns or, worse, is Judaism. Our texts are rich—sometimes opaque, but absolutely teeming with wisdom and fierce debate. It's the work of each generation to extricate meaning from our cultural and religious inheritance. I aim to offer comment which is true to the source material (i.e. doesn't invert or invent meaning to make it more comfortable for us) and uses Torah like a light to reflect on our modern times.

Content note: Discussion of food and starvation in Gaza

וַיְהִי מִקֵּץ שְׁנָתַיִם יָמִים וּפַרְעֹה חֹלֵם וְהִנֵּה עֹמֵד עַל־הַיְאֹר׃ וְהִנֵּה מִן־הַיְאֹר עֹלֹת שֶׁבַע פָּרוֹת יְפוֹת מַרְאֶה וּבְרִיאֹת בָּשָׂר וַתִּרְעֶינָה בָּאָחוּ׃ וְהִנֵּה שֶׁבַע פָּרוֹת אֲחֵרוֹת עֹלוֹת אַחֲרֵיהֶן מִן־הַיְאֹר רָעוֹת מַרְאֶה וְדַקּוֹת בָּשָׂר וַתַּעֲמֹדְנָה אֵצֶל הַפָּרוֹת עַל־שְׂפַת הַיְאֹר׃ וַתֹּאכַלְנָה הַפָּרוֹת רָעוֹת הַמַּרְאֶה וְדַקֹּת הַבָּשָׂר אֵת שֶׁבַע הַפָּרוֹת יְפֹת הַמַּרְאֶה וְהַבְּרִיאֹת וַיִּיקַץ פַּרְעֹה׃ וַיִּישָׁן וַיַּחֲלֹם שֵׁנִית וְהִנֵּה  שֶׁבַע שִׁבֳּלִים עֹלוֹת בְּקָנֶה אֶחָד בְּרִיאוֹת וְטֹבוֹת׃ וְהִנֵּה שֶׁבַע שִׁבֳּלִים דַּקּוֹת וּשְׁדוּפֹת קָדִים צֹמְחוֹת אַחֲרֵיהֶן׃ וַתִּבְלַעְנָה הַשִּׁבֳּלִים הַדַּקּוֹת אֵת שֶׁבַע הַשִּׁבֳּלִים הַבְּרִיאוֹת וְהַמְּלֵאוֹת וַיִּיקַץ פַּרְעֹה וְהִנֵּה חֲלוֹם׃

And it came to pass at the end of two years, that Par῾o dreamed: and, behold, he stood by the River. And, behold, there came up out of the River seven cows, well favoured, and fat of flesh; and they fed in the reed grass. And, behold, seven other cows came up after them out of the River, ill favoured and lean of flesh; and stood by the other cows upon the brink of the River. And the ill favoured and leanfleshed cows ate up the seven well favoured and fat cows. So Par῾o awoke. And he slept and dreamed a second time: and, behold, seven ears of corn came up on one stalk, plump and good. And, behold, seven ears thin, and blasted by the east wind sprang up after them. And the seven thin ears devoured the seven plump and full ears. And Par῾o awoke, and, behold, it was a dream.

Bereshis 41:1–7

I can't do normal Torah study right now.

Paro's (Pharoh's) dreams are still coming true, collapsing and flattening time: the seven good years and bad years are both happening right now. There is a disturbing contrast between my life in New York City, walking through the beautiful December fog and spending the week in Yiddish New York, celebrating and fully participating in my ancestral culture; and the lives of my Palestinian friends, barely surviving in the IDP camp in Nuseirat, living in tents unfit for rain or winter, cold and starving through a genocide. One of them is a 14 year old girl, Areej, who has the flu and no access to medicine. Her uncle, Kamal, has ear problems now because of the bombing so nearby. My friend Madaleen's mother, Manal, frantically calls me 20 times a day because she doesn't know what else to do. We are living in Paro's dream. I am having nightmares.

If I must comment on the parsha, the only part that feels possible—the only part that lets me be grounded in some righteous anger rather than swimming in endless despair and intergenerational trauma-empathy—the only moment that I can latch onto is the psuk on the place settings for the meal Yosef hosts for his brothers.

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