hroseman

[hroseman]

Kosher?

A short story. Two guys learn about what being kosher can mean.

“It’s still not right,” muttered Bob to himself as he stared at his sentence on his laptop screen.

 It is about eleven in the morning. Bob, a graduate student in philosophy, was in his apartment on the upper west side of Manhattan, a short walk to the Columbia campus.  He was sitting at the kitchen table holding a cup of lukewarm coffee and working on his dissertation. He put the cup down deleted the offending sentence and typed: “John Stuart Mill was not an academic in an ivory tower. He was a member of Parliament who fought for women’s rights and to relieve the suffering of the Irish. He applied his ethics to the real world.” Moving his lips, Bob read the new sentence slowly and thought: “It’s still dull. It misses Mill’s intensity.”

Robert (Bob) Goodman is in his fourth year at Columbia University. He has learned to do philosophy with originality and common sense. The philosophy faculty at Columbia considers Bob talented and a leader in the department. His fellow students admire his intellect, non-conformity, and sense of humor which often enlivens dull seminars. Bob is looking forward to a promising academic career, but first he needs to complete his dissertation.

A loud buzz of his apartment’s intercom yanks Bob away from his writing. Startled and annoyed by the interruption, Bob looked up from his computer said aloud: “Who the hell could that be?” He put his cup down and walked to the door and jabbed the intercom button:

“Who is it?” Bob barked.

 “It’s Marty.”

Marty Levy is Bob’s oldest friend. They were in the same class in Yeshiva from kindergarten through high school and were both members of Beth Israel, a modern orthodox synagogue. Modern orthodox Judaism synthesizes classical Jewish values with the contemporary world. Followers follow traditional Jewish practices: daily worship, kosher laws, traditional prayers, and study of the Torah, However, they try to integrate these practices with living in a society with secular values. Many Beth Israel congregants were students in their twenties.

 Marty has a gift for mathematics. He is a post doctorate in Columbia’s physics department working on computer systems for solving Einstein’s equations. Marty is happiest when he is absorbed in testing his algorithms. Lacking well developed social skills, he often seeks Bob’s advice on these issues. Irritated at the unexpected interruption, Bob says:

“It’s a drop-in. You know how I love drop-ins.” said Bob, in a tone that emphasized his irritation.

“Come on, let me in.” Marty said, raising his voice. We need to talk.”

“What’s so important?”

“Just buzz me in!”

Marty ran up the two flights to Bob’s apartment and punched the doorbell. Bob opened the door and showed Marty into the kitchen. They took seats opposite each other at the kitchen table. Bob closed his laptop and looked at Marty as if to say:” What’s up?” Without saying hello, Marty breathlessly said:

                “Did you hear. Kenny is going O.T.D and leaving Beth Israel.”

Orthodox Jews use O.T.D. to stand for Off The Derech (“Derech” is path in Hebrew.) to mean a Jew leaving traditional orthodox Jewish observance, i.e. “going off the path.”  Kenny Finkle was a member of the Beth Israel congregation for many years. Highly intelligent and articulate, Kenny was a graduate student in philosophy. Bob had long, philosophic conversations with Kenny about the Jewish idea of God. Bob remembered that Kenny mentioned he was considering going O.T.D. He found it difficult to reconcile the Jewish conception of a moral God in a world in which bone cancer in children exists. Bob picked up his coffee cup and said:

                “News to me, but I’m not sure I care. I know Kenny well, and it doesn’t surprise me.”

“It was troubling news to Rabbi Cohen. He would be upset about losing anyone, but he especially hates losing Kenny. He respects Kenny’s intellect.”

Rabbi Samuel Cohen had recently joined Beth Israel. Impeccably dressed, with a neatly trimmed beard, Cohen has a deep knowledge of the rituals and the spirit of the religion. Like most orthodox Jews he ranks going “O.T.D.” as one of the most pressing and difficult issues facing the Jewish community.

 Marty added: “Rabbi Cohen would like you to talk to Kenny. He thinks you might convince him to change his mind.”

Bob thought for a moment and said:

                “Why me? Does Rabbi Cohen think I could change Kenny’s mind? I have no power over him.”

Bob was not being totally honest with Marty. Bob was aware that he was a leader at Beth Israel. He was flattered that Rabbi Cohen acknowledged his social status by requesting his help. At the same time, he was uneasy about confronting Kenney, who was a student in his department. He looked directly at Marty and said:

                “Marty, why do you think Kenny shouldn’t go O.T.D.?”

 “No question.” Marty said raising his voice. “If he goes O.T.D., he will harm Beth Israel and the religion.

Bob absorbs Marty’s unthoughtful answer, and his Socratic training asserts itself. He looks directly at Marty and asks:

“Why do you think Kenny is harming anyone?”

“Isn’t it obvious.” Marty answered, shrugging his shoulders as if he realized his answer was inadequate.

Bob paused to phrase his next remark carefully, and answered:

“It’s not obvious to me. I think you need to get clear on harm.  John Stuart Mill’s Harm Principle may help you. You may not know it, but Einstein read Mill’s book on logic.” Bob chuckled and added. “Do you read Mill for your general relativity courses?”

Reacting to the good-natured slight, Marty replies: “I suppose you read general relativity for the ethics courses in the Philosophy Department.” Bob smiles, acknowledging that Marty has scored a point. He pauses for a moment gathers his thoughts and says:

“Marty, do you agree that although freedom in society can’t be limitless, we should strive for a society which gives citizens maximum freedom to speak and act.

“Definitely. I agree.”

“And do you also think a society will prosper if its citizens have maximum freedoms.”

Marty readily agrees to this as well. Bob concludes:

“Marty, whether you know it or not, you have accepted Mill’s famous Harm Principle: the actions and speech of individuals can be limited only to prevent harm to others. There’s no reason for Rabbi Cohen or me to pressure Kenny because going O.T.D. harms no one.”  

“Sounds logical. But there’s got to be something wrong with your reasoning. Kenny is harming himself.”

 “Do you think you are a better judge of what harms Kenny than Kenny himself,” and Bob can’t resist adding: “Don’t they teach you to reason in the physics department?”

“I still think Kenny shouldn’t go O.T.D.” said Marty, weakly. He was worrying about having to tell Rabbi Cohen that he couldn’t convince Bob to help.

Bob smiled and realized that there’s no changing Marty’s mind. In the real-world emotion and not reason wins arguments. Bob sensed that Marty was upset and thought that he should drop the issue. To keep the pressure on would be using his advantage in debating skills to embarrass his best friend.

Bob picked up a menu from the local deli and announced:

“Forget about Kenney. Let’s order lunch, I’m buying. The deli isn’t kosher, but they have great veggie salads. What do you want to eat?”

                “I’ll have a salad.”

                “I’ll have the same.”

Bob called the deli and ordered two large salads. While they were waiting, they argued about which was a better sports town, New York or Boston. Bob was trying to defend New York, but Marty kept bringing up the Patriots and Tom Brady. Bob was losing the argument when he was saved by the buzzer. Bob went down to the lobby to get the lunch bag and pay the delivery man. When he returned, he cleared the kitchen table and tore the bill off the bag:

“What the hell!” He shouted. “They sent us the wrong order. We got two sandwiches instead of salads. And Marty, you’re not going to believe this, but we got two BLT’s.”

“No salads?” Marty asked.

“No. Damn deli. They’re always screwing orders up. I’m not sure I should touch the bag.”

Marty said: “You can’t make this up! Two kosher guys with BLTs for lunch!”

Frustrated and annoyed, Bob said: “Very funny! I’ll call the deli.”

Bob picked up his phone and began to dial the deli. Before he punched the deli’s number, he was struck by an unexpected, outrageous thought: “The deli’s foul up is my chance to taste bacon. I’ve been curious about the taste of bacon for years. Why send them back?” He dismissed this thought as ridiculous, he had been strictly kosher for over twenty years. Then he thought: “This is my chance to see what I’ve been missing all these years.” He turned to Marty and blurted: “Let’s eat them.”

                “What!” exclaimed Marty.

                “Let’s eat the BLT’s. They smell great.

Marty has also been eating strictly kosher food for his whole life. Kosher laws are ingrained into his life. He can’t conceive of violating kosher laws. He says:

“Are you insane. The Torah says bacon is unkosher.”

“People crazy about bacon,” Bob replied. “In America, they even use it to garnish their salads. Wouldn’t you like to know why it’s so popular?”

“Look Bob, observant Jews have obeyed Kosher laws for thousands of years. Breaking these laws is against the Torah”

Recalling his reading of The Guide for the Perplexed, Bob replies: “The great Moses Maimonides, argued that the Torah’s dietary laws are not spiritual. They are for health only. Since Bacon isn’t unhealthy today the laws aren’t needed.”

Marty countered: “Following the law is a duty from God. Knowing that a Jew disobeyed God harms all observant Jews.”

“But we can eat our bacon in secret. We’re the only ones who know about it. If no one knows what we did, how can there be any harm? You just agreed with Mill’s harm principle. We’re free to eat the BLTs if there is no harm to an individual.

Marty was silent for about a minute. He knew some Jewish scholars argue that kosher laws have no explanation in reason. They are God’s commandments which people must obey without question. Kosher laws are a tradition that is over five thousand years old. He said:

                “We can’t disobey a command of the Torah, period. We don’t need to understand it.”

“Is it reasonable to expect intelligent beings to obey a rule with no reason? If a Torah command were found to be wrong, it couldn’t change unless people disobeyed it. Do you think we should obey the Torah command to stone adulterers?”

Bob stood up and walked away from the table and back. To emphasize his point, he sat down and said:

“Marty, you just agreed that it is right to maximize freedom. Don’t the kosher rules limit personal freedom. And since disobeying kosher rules in private hurts no one, don’t people imposing these rules violate the Harm Principle.”

“I see your point, but I’m still not convinced.” said, Marty indecisively.

Bob forcefully replied. “C’mon Marty. I can’t do it without you.”

AUTHORIAL INTETRVENTION

Our protagonists are at an impasse which I must resolve to end this story. I thought about finishing the story as did Frank R. Stockton in his famous short story, The Lady, or the Tiger. You may recall that the lover of a semi-barbaric princess must choose between two doors one concealing a lady and the other a tiger. The princess indicates one of the doors to her lover, and Stockton presents elaborate reasons why the princess might wish her lover to choose either door. Stockton ends the story with:

"And so I leave it with all of you: Which came out of the opened door – the lady, or the tiger?”

I originally thought I would end the story as did Stockton. But his story appears so frequently in anthologies that his ending has become a cliché. Besides, the drama of the prospect of a tiger tearing a young man apart is far greater than the possibility of eating a BLT.

Bob and Marty are at an impasse. Bob presents a solid rational argument for eating the BLT’s while Marty’s strong commitment to Judaism causes him to emotionally reject Bob’s arguments. I have no way of resolving these two incommensurable positions, so I must resort to something external to the argument. I hope you enjoy it.

END OF AUTHORIAL INTERVENTION

Bob finally understood that there could be no further argument, and he did not want to further embarrass his friend. He said:

“Marty, I realize that no argument will convince you to eat a BLT. Your commitment to Judaism prevents you from violating an ancient rule. Reason and the Harm Principle convinced me to eat the BLT. I can think of no argument that proves that my argument is better than your faithfulness. To quote a lame cliché: ‘We must agree to disagree.’”  

His mind made up, Bob unwrapped his sandwich and held it in front of his mouth as if he needed to work up his courage to take the first bite. At the same time, Marty unwrapped his sandwich, and lifted a corner of the bread. He smiled and began to laugh. Bob said:

“What’s so funny.”

“It’s vegetarian bacon. We have it at our house all the time.”

“What’s vegetarian bacon?”

“They make it from soy protein and other vegetables.” Marty answered, as he took a bite. “It’s a pretty good sandwich. Veggie bacon is good with scrambled eggs.” Channeling Hamlet, he adds: “There are more things in this world than dreamt of in your philosophy.”

Bob took a healthy taste of the sandwich, chuckled, and said: “There goes my rebellion. I’m still a bacon virgin.”

Bob got two cans of Coke from his refrigerator and returned to the table. The two friends ate their sandwiches and resumed the comparison of New York versus Boston sports. For this argument Marty presented cold facts against Bob’s appeal to Yankee tradition. Like the BLT debate, their argument was a standoff between reason and emotion, which philosophers have been debating since Plato.  

After Marty left, Bob returned to his dissertation. He refilled his coffee cup and reread the offending sentence. The BLT debate didn’t improve it. Bob thought and began to type.