Parshat Shemini Lev. 9:1-11:47
Parshat Shemini concludes with God describing to Moshe many of the laws of kashrut (dietary laws), namely, lists of animals which are either permitted or forbidden to eat. Moshe also receives information about procedures for responding to cases in which the corpse of a deceased animal – that is, an animal which was not ritually slaughtered – comes into contact with people or objects, thereby transmitting ritual impurity.
Note the difference in how different materials are treated after contact with the body of a sharetz – any one of a number of “crawling animals,” including several species of rodents and lizards:
וְכֹל אֲשֶׁר־יִפֹּל־עָלָיו מֵהֶם בְּמֹתָם יִטְמָא מִכּל־כְּלִי־עֵץ אוֹ בֶגֶד אוֹ־עוֹר אוֹ שָׂק כּל־כְּלִי אֲשֶׁר־יֵעָשֶׂה מְלָאכָה בָּהֶם בַּמַּיִם יוּבָא וְטָמֵא עַד־הָעֶרֶב וְטָהֵר׃ וְכל־כְּלִי־חֶרֶשׂ אֲשֶׁר־יִפֹּל מֵהֶם אֶל־תּוֹכוֹ כֹּל אֲשֶׁר בְּתוֹכוֹ יִטְמָא וְאֹתוֹ תִשְׁבֹּרוּ
And anything on which one [of these animals] falls when dead shall be impure: be it any article of wood, or a cloth, or a skin, or a sack—any such article that can be put to use shall be dipped in water, and it shall remain impure until evening; then it shall be pure. And if any of those falls into an earthen vessel, everything inside it shall be impure and [the vessel] itself you shall break. (Lev. 11:32-33)
If an item of wood, leather, or cloth becomes impure, it is able to be re-purified through immersion in water and the passage of time. If the inside of an earthen vessel becomes impure, there is no method of recourse. The vessel cannot become pure again, and must be smashed.
On the one hand, we could learn from this that there is a system for addressing situations where irreparable damage has occurred. On the other hand, we could ask why the Torah permits earthenware vessels at all? Clearly, they carry a risk of becoming permanently impure that is not common amongst all materials. Why not use other materials, and not have to worry about the consequences and ripple-effects of potential physical/spiritual contamination?
One explanation is that earthenware vessels have practical uses which might outweigh these risks. They might be more durable, better at insulating heat, or offer greater protection from elements. Another explanation — which does not need to oppose logic, but can exist alongside it — is that engagement with risk is part of the sacred system in which we live our lives. It is valuable to use earthenware vessels for all of the practical reasons listed above, even though this entails some balance of risk and reward. One justification for the laws of kashrut and ritual purity presented here is that just as God is holy, so too, shall we be holy (Lev 11:44-45). Balancing the material need for subsistence with the spiritual need for holiness need not be limited to how we interact with food sources — it can also expand to how we interact with ourselves and our surroundings.
Chizkuni (13th century France) offers a third explanation for the command to break an impure earthen vessel:
ואתו תשברו לפי שהוא שואב את הטומאה יותר מדאי ועוד שדמיו קלים ואין בו חסרון כיס רק מעט.
“And you shall break it” – Since it has absorbed too much impurity. And further, [an earthen vessel] is inexpensive, and there is only slight monetary loss.
Chizkuni leans on knowledge of kashrut, that earthenware vessels cannot be made kashered because their porous surfaces are thought to absorb ta’am (taste/flavor) from foods. The comment also suggests that perhaps we shatter these vessels because they are not so special – in a desert environment, there is no shortage of clay. The cost of replacing an earthen vessel was far less than the cost to replace an item of wood, linen, or leather; comparatively, rarer materials.
This comment raises important questions about the value of objects, sustainability, and how we care for our possessions – whether in the wilderness, in the Middle Ages, or today. It reminds us that we already have, around and within us, the resources we need to engage with many kinds of risk and uncertainty. Yes, an earthen vessel might become ritually impure. However: we are surrounded by earth, and also made up of it. Perhaps a specific vessel is not salvageable – that’s too bad, but we know from experience that the broader project can likely continue.
Sometimes, we navigate this risk around food preparation and storage in environments not subject to our will. Sometimes, we take on risks through challenging conversations, trying out new ideas, or learning new skills.
In all of these cases, may we recall how we already have within us the resources, skills, and knowledge we need to engage with taking risks. May we know that the process of creation might involve brokenness — and that this is not a bug, but a feature. Dust we are, and to dust shall we return.
Alyssa Coffey (she/her) is a rabbinical student at Hebrew College, where she also serves as Editor of the 70 Faces of Torah blog. Prior to rabbinical school, she studied religion and history at Hampshire College, worked at a Jewish social service organization in Chicago, and spent two years studying in Jerusalem at Pardes. When not learning Torah, Alyssa is often knitting, spinning yarn, or solving puzzles.