A story is told about two brothers who took a day trip to Deep Creek Lake, a popular recreational destination in western Maryland. As one brother marveled over the placid waterfront and the beautiful greenery, the other muttered that all that he saw was a murky haze.
Upon their return, the brother with the cloudy vision immediately paid a visit to his ophthalmologist. After a thorough examination, the doctor pronounced that he could find nothing amiss. Frustrated, the doctor asked to see his patient’s glasses. Lo and behold, a white film obscured the lenses. The diagnosis was clear: it is impossible to perceive beauty through the prism of sour milk.
One of the most beautiful and breathtaking sights of the year is the preparation for the Pesach holiday (Passover).
Not only in haredi (ultra-Orthodox) or dati (National-Religious) neighborhoods, but all over Eretz Yisrael, families of all stripes and Jewish affiliations are meticulously purging their homes of every last vestige of hametz, arduously lining counters and exchanging dishes as they transform their kitchens from their familiar year-round appearance to their special Pesach charm, and scurrying to and fro as they empty supermarket shelves and hardware stores, stocking up on supplies for the celebration.
The expense is enormous and the labor intense, and it is all for only one week, yet it is embraced with loving arms and devout hearts by those eager to offer at least this annual tribute to the One Above, Who redeemed us from bondage, miraculously protects us from our enemies, and constantly breathes life into our nostrils.
Yes, unfortunately, there is a minority that excuses itself from this great, national expression of gratitude for divine kindness bestowed, past and present. According to surveys, nine percent of Israelis do not eat matzah on Pesach, 21% do not attend a seder, and 33% eat some hametz.
Although these numbers of the non-adherent are relatively small, they still testify to the sad reality – that some of our people are very distant from our faith and heritage. And it appears that Dan Perry, author of “Time for Israel’s non-kosher public to push back,” which appeared as an op-ed in April 12’s Jerusalem Post, is a card-carrying member of this fringe group.
Mr. Perry did not let us know whether he prefers a Big Mac to an Egg McMuffin, Krug champagne to Brunello di Montalcino, oysters to lobsters, or caviar to crayfish. But he has made it clear that it disturbs him to the nth degree to behold his co-religionists refraining from hametz on Pesach, frequenting hotels and restaurants with kashrut certificates, and “turn[ing] the day of rest (Shabbat) into a time of rules and inconvenience.”
TO HIS chagrin, even “the moderate religious and traditional public – people who live modern, global, open lives” have become tolerant of the “imagined rules” of Shabbat and kashrut, even though, in his distorted calculation, they certainly must frequent non-kosher restaurants and desecrate Shabbat whenever they lodge in the “London Hilton” and other paradigm venues of religious sterility.
Mr. Perry’s article is riddled with unsubstantiated, imagined, and inaccurate assertions. Throughout his diatribe against the widespread expansion of kosher certification and its rapidly growing clientele, he does not cite a single source for his misinformation.
A distorted narrative
His entire article is unfounded, from its beginning volley that Passover is a celebration of our freedom from and our ingratitude to the God who removed the shackles of our Egyptian bondage to its conclusion that only the “[un]-patriotic, [un]-Jewish, and [un]-Israeli” seek kosher food in public places and that “those who wish to observe kosher restrictions may do so at home.”
Despite our revulsion over Mr. Perry’s baseless attacks, we must thank him for that final, generous gesture of religious tolerance.
Midstream, without realizing that he has done so, Mr. Perry reveals the source of his venomous attacks: he is frightened and haunted by the reality that what he imagines to be the “almost certainly still majority” that abhors the scourge of kosher certification will “not indefinitely” retain its numerical advantage.
Actually, Mr. Perry has awakened late to fear defeat in a battle already lost. Anyone involved in kosher certification or food service in the Holy Land knows that the overwhelming majority of its inhabitants prefer to eat kosher if it is available.
And this reality is the inherent contradiction to Mr. Perry’s line of reasoning. As he writes, almost all Israeli hotels and restaurants obtain kosher certification as an entrepreneurial necessity. This has nothing to do with “boycotts.” It is just plain common sense, for the first rule of business is to cater to one’s customers.
Yet this secular and religiously insecure journalist has proposed a boycott of his own by “the public that does not want kosher hassles.” Thus, he invokes the typical, contemporary liberal expression of democracy, which we have witnessed over and over again: demonstrate against and trample any expression of free choice that is not to one’s liking.
No, Mr. Perry. The ubiquity of kosher certification is not a product of religious coercion, not of corruption, and not of surrender. It is a simple commercial calculation, in acknowledgment of the ever-increasing numbers of the faithful and even of the not-yet-fully faithful, who are nevertheless proud of their traditions. And it does not take a lettered economist to figure that out.
Mr. Perry, I suggest that you visit your ophthalmologist very soon. Perhaps he can show you how removing the sour milk from your glasses will afford you the pleasure of beholding the splendor of the Jewish Renaissance. I hope that you do not require laser surgery.
The writer has worked in kosher certification for over three decades, is a rabbi of a congregation in Telz-Stone, and has authored various halachic works.