Church-based Passover Seders: Another year, another fight? Please just buy my book.

Although Lent doesn't begin for another couple of weeks, it's not too early to plan a church-based Seder, so here's my annual pitch for Come to the Table: A Passover Seder for Parish Use.

First published in 2004, this labor of love and scholarship has been adopted and used by dozens of parishes over the years. One year I had the honor of leading a Seder at a church that used my haggadah and was deeply moved by how it enhanced participants' appreciation of their Jewish roots. It's available as a paperback and on Kindle.

So what's with the fight reference? {insert Big Exhausted Sigh here}

Every year I get caught up in a near-endless loop of conversations about whether it's appropriate for churches to hold a parish-based Seder. One of my written responses was posted to the Ignatian Spirituality blog, dotMagis. For The Rev. Ann Fontaine's interview at Episcopal Cafe, click here.

I have nothing new to add to my well-documented explanation for why these events have theological and spiritual value for Christians.

But I will reiterate this: Please read those posts and read my book, Why Is There a Menorah on the Altar? Jewish Roots of Christian Worship  before picking this fight with me. Again. You do know that I was raised Jewish, right?

Face Palm Sunday

Holy Week Begins 

Consider what it's like 

for anyone raised Jewish. . .

Speaking and writing from experience? Holy Week generates quite a mash-up of emotions.

When Worlds Collide: Pesach Edition (5770)

Behold one view of last night's Seder and no, I did not bring the palm crosses. Those were lovingly placed on the table by someone from the Episcopal frond of my friend's multi-faith family. I had other issues.

Because I've been gluten-free since October, our colloquy went something like this:

Me: "Can't eat the matzoh or matzoh balls."

She: "Oh no! Then you can't have my matzoh kugle."

Me: "Darn, I was really looking forward to being constipated for a month."

She: "Well, there will be brisket."

I didn't even have time to chant dayenu before she continued,

"And, we'll have appetizers ─ chopped liver, herring, and shrimp."

'Tis the Season for Shameless Self-Promotion

Come to the Table: A Catholic Passover Seder was first published in 2004 and I note how with every passing year, more churches contact me about including a Sedar as part of their Holy Week observances.

Some parishes view this as an opportunity to promote family faith formation, others focus on making the Seder an opportunity for specific groups to engage in deeper inquiry about their Jewish heritage.

I treasure the wonderful conversations I'm privileged to have with those in charge of organizing their parish's Seder ─ sometimes at the last possible moment, which then leads to frantic conversations about shipping books really really fast. Most of all, I appreciate spirited follow-up notes about how it went.

This year, I have a pretty good idea of how it'll go at a church in South Carolina, thanks to email received earlier today:

Our pastor told us he wanted a Last Supper Table...set up as Jesus and his disciples would have left it the night after they left Seder. He wanted it hidden behind a curtain and at the end of the Seder, we are to open the curtain showing the empty table and that would be the big ending to our Seder...

Then, the next day, we will place the Tabernacle in the middle of this table (we will still keep all the dishes there) and the Blessed Sacrament will be placed there during the Holy Thursday procession. Adoration will be held there...It will be beautiful! Think of the symbolism!

How could I not? I've requested pictures!!

Lenten Practice: How is my life shaped? (Intro.)

Hedging my commitment, I used the word "probably" when leaving a comment at People for Others. More specifically, I wrote: "As a result of listening to [today's] homily, think I'm probably going to spend Lent pondering this question: 'How is my life shaped by saying, "Jesus is Christ"?'"*

I'm blessed to have Paul zoom in on it, but that's not the only reason I've been haunted (think: Holy Ghost) by this question since Ash Wednesday.

Does anyone reading my work not know I was raised Jewish? For me, asking "How is my life shaped by saying, 'Jesus is Christ'?" is life-shaping for a slew of reasons, many of which become especially manifest during Lent.

This morning I realized there's no "probably" about embracing this inquiry as a Lenten practice (while eating chocolate). I invite you to adopt this question as your own, return here to discover what emerges for me, and to share in the comments box whatever answers you discover during Lent.


*Note the excruciatingly precise iterative use of quotation marks and feel free to correct me if I got the sequence wrong.

Icon: Christ the Teacher by the hand of iconographer, Fr. Peter Pearson.

A bold move during Year of the Priest cheers me up!

The headline grabbed my attention the moment I clicked open this morning's weekly digest from Tikkun Daily.

In case you don't already know, tikkun is the Hebrew word for the commitment of every Jew* to "mend, repair, and transform the world." Tikkun, the magazine, and now the daily multimedia blog has longstanding cred among spiritually progressive Jews. Heck, they're so spiritually progressive and open to interfaith rants they even cite my work. My naches, for sure.

The headline? Say Hello to the World First Female Orthodox Rabbi!

Pretty darn exciting, even after reading the fine print revealing that Rabbi Avi Weiss, founder of the Yeshivat Chovevei Torah Rabbinical School ("where open orthodoxy begins") may, in fact, have bestowed the title "Maharat" rather than "Rabbah" on 32-year old Sara Hurwitz.

That's okay with her because even though she cannot be part of a minyan (prayer quorum) or serve as a rabbinic witness, she can do just about everything else. She says she "functions in the same capacity as a rabbi."

In other words, she's like what the Roman Catholic church calls a deacon. And you know where I'm going with this, right? Does the Catechism of the Catholic Church's reference to Jews as "elder brethren" (CCC 63) ring a bell?

I'm sure Rabbi Weiss is getting some major flack for his bold move, which has cheered me up during this Year of the Priest. Oh that there might ever be a pope courageous enough to risk the same by welcoming women into the Roman Catholic diaconate.

*Note: A commitment I never ditched after getting baptized.

'Tis the Season to be Unconscious

Back in October, the American Family Association* starting polling members about Christmas blah blah. Would members be willing to boycotting at least one national retailer for failing to use the word "Christmas" in holiday advertising? Guess they were, because at the beginning of November the AFA called for a two-month boycott of Gap, Old Navy, and Banana Republic stores.

I believe in First Amendment rights, which I liberally interpret to include every American's right to sound/read unaware, insensitive, or downright stupid. Normally, I choose to ignore these kinds of campaigns. I'm having more difficulty doing so this year, probably because I'm more focused than usual on what passes (or doesn't) as interfaith dialogue.

Ever the glutton for aggravation, I've spent time trolling the blogosphere for posts and comments about the AFA campaign. First, the good news: a fair number of observers manage to zoom in on the offensiveness of turning an important Christian holy day into a celebration of retail transactions. I'm with them on that, but my non-rhinoplastied nose is still out of joint.

These commentaries still fail to zero in on what, as far as I am concerned, a more radical issue: not everyone in the world magically becomes Christian during December. Assuming that everyone does (or should) is beyond insensitive. It's insulting to Jews and Muslims.

Old habits of being die hard -- or not at all. I was baptized (as an adult) years ago, but having been raised Jewish, I nevertheless derive some seasonal cheer from knowing Christianity didn't even exist when Jesus was born. Heck, December 24th didn't even exist.

I confess: pondering this generates the same frisson of glee I feel whenever I have an opportunity to explain that Jesus wasn't Catholic and Christ was not his last name.


*The AFA "represents and stands for traditional family values and exists to motivate and equip citizens to reform our culture to reflect Biblical truth on which it was founded."

While blogging at Jewcy.com. . .

I spent the past week blogging over at Jewcy.com and learned a lot. Like what?

Like even though I write every day, there's a reason why I don't blog daily. It's the same reason why I never aspired to work on a daily newspaper or a weekly magazine. Those venues require very fast thinking and writing. Yipes!

Even more importantly, I learned more about what a difference a cohort makes.

Last week plunged me into the world of Generation X but mostly Generation Y Jews who do indeed seem to be more culturally tolerant than Jews of my generation. An entire world of "Funny, you don't look Jewish" Borscht Belt shtick is lost on them. This might be a good thing for interfaith relations; something I need to think about more and more carefully.

My posts were intended to work as stand-alone pieces, but if you read them in order, I hope you'll see the dawn's early light emerging in my skull mush:

"My Own Private Exodus" (Wednesday, 11/11)
"Multiple Spirituality Disorder" (Thursday, 11/12)
"The Hebrew Word for 'Holy'" (Friday, 11/13)

Again, I invite you to spend more time at Jewcy.com. That's my plan!

Next up: I have something to say about the GAP boycott called for by the American Family Association.

Blogging at Jewcy.com

Although doing so would certainly put me into a much-needed theta state, I haven't ditched blogging for chanting the Litany of the Saints. Quite the contrary. This week, my adrenal system is working out at Jewy.com.

Jewcy describes itself as: an online media outlet/blog, social network, and brand devoted to helping Jews and their peers expand the meaning of community by presenting a spectrum of voices, content, and discussion.

I was invited to come over for a week-long play date by editor, Lilit Marcus whose writing is delightfully thought-provoking in both content and style. Exhibit A: "New York Is My Israel." Exhibit B: "A History of My Jewish Identity Viewed Through Men I've Dated."

My posts to date reveal yet more about my interior experience as a [adjective]:

"Why Is There a Menorah on the Altar?" (Monday, 11/9)
"The Muzuzah and the Crucifix" (Tuesday, 11/10)

Hope you'll click over to read more and will spend time visiting the entire site while you're there.

My High School Reunion: Identity and Faith on Saturday

By Saturday morning of my high school reunion, I was pretty darn full of...myself. The previous evening I'd heard, "you look exactly like you did in high school" a zillion times. (Really? Gray roots were showing back then?)

I was also feeling rather perky thanks to a powerful combination of achieving Internet connectivity and getting a good night's sleep. Thus fortified, I drove to the high school for nearly six hours of schmoozing. Identity and faith continued to be a central topic but not because I was so darn busy fulfilling Matthew 28:18-20. I had other stuff to do.

This other stuff included but was not limited to paying off a bet I'd made with one of the reunion organizers. (He won a jar of macadamia nuts.) I also wanted to find out for myself if a former football player who scared the snot out of me really does now study with a guru for months at a time in India. (He does.) And, I wanted some quality time with Peter Balakian.

I've always felt a special affection for and affinity with Peter. This, I believe, is because my mother made sure two things happened by the time I entered fifth grade. First, I was taught how to play the string bass. Second, I was shown documentary footage of Nazi death camps being liberated by Allied forces. As a result, I spent several formative years standing behind Peter while he played cello in the elementary school orchestra and to this day I consider genocide a clear and present danger. By genocide, I'm thinking Rwanda and Darfur, not...oh never mind.

Don't know if he still plays cello, but Peter has become a poet known for his prize-winning memoir, Black Dog of Fate and work about the Armenian genocide.

In Black Dog of Fate, Peter captures perfectly what it was like to grow up where we did and at a time when no one thought twice about making comments like, "You're eating like a starving Armenian" and "Don't try to Jew down the price." Peter's memoir revealed how I wasn't the only one whose childhood was shaped by a collective unconscious memory of diaspora.

While tucking into lunch, I learned that Peter is currently teaching a course in "Genocide" at Colgate University. ("Mom! Dad! I got an A in genocide!!") We chatted about antisemitism; the first century and Constantine. This proved to be perfect prelude to conversations throughout the day during which I was asked, "Why Catholic?" in the most thoughtful and thought-provoking ways.

Exactly the question I've been pondering lately, but one I put on hold to enter the embrace of Vigil Mass at Our Lady of Mount Carmel that evening before reconvening for the gala dinner.

My High School Reunion: Faith and Identity on Friday

So, I didn't attend Temple Sinai on the Friday night of my high school reunion weekend. I did not come to this sanity-affirming decision all by myself. A dear friend reminded me what happened during an impromptu visit years earlier.

Silly me, I'd stopped by the synagogue office to ask for permission to tour the sanctuary and was treated to an inquisition. Because visiting from out-of-town wasn't a good enough reason, I got huffy in return, "My grandfather of blessed memory designed and built the bimah. My family donated most of the landscaping." (Because reforesting Israel wasn't enough.)

"Well, we don't want people wandering around," snarled the synagogue secretary. I muttered dayenu and promptly decided to expand my tour to the kitchen where I once scrounged around for B'nai B'rith breakfast leftovers. (One Youth Group activity I remember.) Take a WAG, did I open the refrigerators?

With that memory reignited, I decided to ditch services and join the cloud of witnesses gathering at a local restaurant. Thanks to the humorous grace of God, the first clutch of classmates happened to be those who'd attended Our Lady of Mt. Carmel (Roman Catholic) parochial school before transferring to public high school. Bemused curiosity all around about what the h-e-double hockey sticks had happened to me.

Not for the last time during the weekend did I trot out my "Jewish in identity, Christian in faith and Catholic by religious practice" trope.

As it turned out, I really didn't have to brace myself. The big negative reaction never came, not from them nor from classmates with whom I'd once raided the refrigerators at Temple Sinai. Instead, on Shabbat I was treated to a delightful riff about what the nuns would have done with me had I attended OLMC. Think: The Trouble with Angels meets Doubt and The Sound of Music.

Thus began a weekend tuned to the Self-Discovery Channel. Saturday would be even more illuminating in the domain of faith and identity, although I do plead guilty to indulging in unrepentant schadenfreude at times.

Rescuing the Catholic-Jewish Dialogue...from (some) Catholics

So glad I waited a month before following up my Recognito post. That post was about how in June, the U.S. Catholic Bishops (USCCB) managed to set Catholic-Jewish relations back a few years/decades/centuries.

First, they messed around with the United States Catholic Catechism for Adults. Then, after being busted for insensitivity, the putzim issued a clarification.

How does issuing a Statement of Principles for Catholic-Jewish Dialogue (October 2, 2009) make it all better? It doesn't. . . not even with this reassurance:

"Jewish-Catholic dialogue, one of the blessed fruits of the Second Vatican Council, has never been and will never be used by the Catholic Church as a means of proselytism -- nor is it intended as a disguised invitation to baptism."

Can the USCCB possibly be more out of touch with what's going on within certain (growing) sectors of the U.S. Catholic population?

Before convicting me for being too tough on the Roman Catholic Church, please compare and contrast this piece posted on Spero News (dateline: October 6) with this one on the Catholic News Agency website (dateline: October 8).

If deep text analysis is your thing, notice how each Catholic news service organizes information, uses quotes from the Statement, and provides links to resources. If that's too darn exegetical for you, then take a deep breath and scroll down to comments posted on the CNA site. Here are a few excerpts:

"Frankly, I'm getting tired of Jewish people telling the Catholic Church what it can pray, believe, and teach."

"Incidents like this always leave me wondering whether Christian-Jewish dialogue is even worth the effort. It gives the impression, in fact, that what passes for dialogue is really just a Jewish monologue with a Christian audience."

"More Apostasy, cowardice,and caving in to the Jews from the USCCB. The Old covenant is dead!!! Our Lord is the fulfilment [sic] of the old covenant."

Despite artfully worded proclamations, anti-Judaism (i.e., hatred of the Jewish religion) and anti-Semitism (i.e., hatred of Jews as an ethnic group) are alive and sick. At least one disturbingly hefty segment of the Catholic population is clue-free about the debt of gratitude all Christians owe to Judaism and the Jewish people.

I suppose I should, in some bizarre way, be grateful for validating proof of persistent ignorance about Jews and Judaism. Instead, I'm mostly annoyed and discouraged by bungled communications from those entrusted with church leadership.

If the USCCB can't adhere to the standard set forth in Matthew 7:12 when they attempt to clarify Catholic-Jewish dialogue, they should at least consider adopting this one from the Hippocratic Corpus: "First, do no harm."

Note: You can find links to all USCCB documents about Jewish relations at the USCCB website. Find copies of declarations and proclamations from the Vatican, as well as ones from the Episcopal and Lutheran churches in my new book, Why Is There a Menorah on the Altar?

Recognitio this: CCC 121

So much was going on for me this summer, that I just wasn't in the mood to deal with any United States Conference of Catholic Bishops (USCCB) or Vatican-generated chazzarai about Catholic-Jewish relations.

More specifically, I'd just calmed down about the SSPX situation when the USCCB issued its June statement, "A Note on Ambiguities Contained in Reflections on Covenant and Mission." I read and printed out a few news reports, then set them aside. Didn't read the original document. Shame on "Jewish in identity, Christian in faith, and Catholic in religious practice" me for not paying attention.

Even more shame on me for only glancing at news reports about the U.S. Catholic Bishops voting to ask the Vatican "to approve a small change" in the United States Catholic Catechism for Adults. The small change? Striking this sentence: "Thus the covenant that God made with the Jewish people through Moses remains eternally valid for them." (p. 131).

What they kept in is a pile o' words that includes a quote from Paul's letter to the church in Rome (Romans 9:4-5). Read that scripture snippet in context and you'll find yet another great example of, revealed especially in his use of pronouns, Paul's own identity-faith issues. Have I mentioned lately that I'm glad it's no longer the Year of St. Paul?

And of course every other commentator jumped all over this story. I let it slide when it was reported first on August 12 and two weeks later when the USCCB received Vatican Recognitio for this change. So what finally prompted me to yank my head out of the sand?

I dunno. Maybe it's because I'd just finished explaining -- to a Catholic who had to look up the word -- that supercessionism is, at long last, considered a disreputable theological stance. (Making a comeback?) Or, maybe it's because I read Rocco Palmo recent post about the Vatican announcing that its teachings about the Jewish people are "not negotiable." (Oh really?)

More likely it's because all this interfaith dishabille seems especially distressing as Rosh Hashonah approaches. I really do prefer the new year include stuff worth celebrating. In the domain of Catholic-Jewish relations, this is hardly the case. I'm counting it all oy.

Now in Print: Why Is There a Menorah on the Altar? Jewish Roots of Christian Worship

In print at last! In print at last!
Thank God Almighty,
my new book is in print at last!

For a while, I thought I'd have a much better chance of seeing Jesus come again in glory, but a carton filled with printed copies of Why Is There a Menorah on the Altar? was at long last delivered by UPS earlier this week.

Of course, the snafus continue, latest one being Amazon.com's persistent belief that "this title has not yet been released." I've asked the publisher to look into it, as well as authorize (note ironic word use) the "Look in the Book" function. We'll see how long that takes, meanwhile I hope you will:

• order my book by clicking through to amazon.com from the Shelfari widget on this blog.

• post a favorable review directly on the amazon.com page for this book.

• encourage adult faith formation folks in your church to use my book as foundation for discussions about Judaism's enduring legacy. I wrote this book for Christians who worship at "high liturgy" churches.
  

• contact me directly (as someone already has) with your personal concerns about the ecumenical turn my work and life seem to be taking.
  

And now, I think I'll go sit on my front stoop to wait for Jesus and Elijah.

An Author's Life: Reviewers (X)

Only an uber-fool would stumble forward without having her book manuscript read in draft by several "first readers." Only an uber-fool would attempt publishing in the dangerous domain of interfaith anything without rigorous review.

Being a regular fool (read: author), I had eight first readers -- Christians and Jews -- checking all or parts of Why Is There a Menorah on the Altar?

I asked everyone to review my work for factual errors and too-weird-to-be-credible thinking. I discussed Jewish "family [spiritual] purity" laws and practices with someone who observes them. I consulted with a Roman Catholic canon lawyer after a first reader expressed concerns about the way I explained transubstantiation. I welcomed counsel and counted ninety-eight percent of it joy.

And then, my editor sent the final draft of my trade book for regular folks to a Famous Scholar in Biblical Studies who went vituperatively berserk. No joke, I'm talking about personal attacks bloated with sarcasm and disdain. Famous Scholar dissed my Jewish upbringing, my academic training, and my scholarship; took umbrage at my humor.

My editor was slightly freaked out, especially after I described the level of incivility that seems to come with this writing territory. Oddly enough, I found Famous Scholar's vitriol affirming because, as anyone who writes in controversial areas knows, whenever we write one of these:
Reviewers see this:

Lent at the Western Wall

At some point during the next 12 hours, I'll hunker down to prepare a prayer for transport to Jerusalem where it'll get tucked into the Western Wall next week.

Yes, I believe God will have already received my prayer before its physical arrival, but I like this tradition. Plus, it should come as no surprise that I think Catholic-Jewish relations could use some divine intervention these days. Petitioning God during Lent at the remains of the Second Temple makes cosmic sense to me.

So as not to suck up too much space, I'm planning to use a teeny slip of paper, although I really shouldn't worry about generating sacred litter. To make room for more prayers, notes are cleared out before Passover and Rosh Hashonah, and then buried on the Mount of Olives.

This practice of tucking notes into the Wall began during the 18th century which, considering the scope of Jewish history, makes it a relatively recent custom. Even more recent is the option of sending a prayer to Jerusalem via email, where it will be written out and then placed in the Wall for you. Kidding you, I am not.

This service is offered by Aish HaTorah (free and donations welcomed), Virtual Jerusalem (free), and the enterprising folks at Writing to God, who have recently marked their service fee down to $7.97 from $12.97 ("It's easy, It's fast, It's simple.")

I'm sure you can find other options on the Internet. In any case, I invite you to join me in praying for reconciliation among all God's people -- this year in Jerusalem.

Cardinal Egan on SSPX...Tweaked

Had I been asked to review Cardinal Egan’s statement on SSPX, I would've suggested he seize the opportunity to express a bit of teshuva (repentance) and perhaps some gratitude. I would've also suggested a couple of line breaks to enhance readability to make it seem less perfunctory.

Here’s what went out:

As Archbishop of New York, I add my voice to that of the Holy See and the United States Conference of Catholic Bishops in rejecting Williamson’s words as hurtful, baseless, and outrageous. It is my prayer that all of our Jewish brothers and sisters understand that we in the Catholic community here in New York hold them in the highest esteem, and look forward to continuing to cooperate with them in countless good works for our community and our nation.

The first sentence is okay. Here’s how I would’ve tweaked the rest:

It is my humble prayer that all our Jewish brothers and sisters understand that we in the Catholic community here in New York deeply regret the persistence of anti-Semitism and anti-Judaism in our Church.

We ask the Jewish community’s forgiveness for the ways that we, as Catholic Christians, have failed to honor, respect, and express gratitude for all the gifts we have received from the Jewish people throughout history. We need to become more mindful of our Jewish roots.

We stand in solidarity with you against those who minimize or ignore the persecution you have suffered through our thoughts and words; in what we have done and what we have failed to do.

Feast of Mary, Mother of God? World Day of Peace? How About the Feast of the Circumcision?

Many centuries before today's Holy Day of Obligation was established as the Feast of Mary, Mother of God, it was known as the Feast of the Circumcision. Here's why: Jesus was Jewish.

According to Torah law, Jewish boys must be circumcised eight days after birth as a sign of the enduring covenant God made with his Chosen People (Genesis 17:10-14).

That's right, my dear sisters and brothers in the Lord, Jesus had a bris. I want to encourage you to remember and celebrate this event. Doing so cannot help but strengthen awareness of your Jewish heritage. It also provides a great excuse to have lox, sable, whitefish, bagels, and cream cheese for blunch -- if you need an excuse.

As you might imagine, I'm working on shtick about why the name of this feast might have been changed. It seemed to be working just fine from the 6th to the 20th century.

My Chanukah: When Worlds Collide

Be Not Afraid of Chanukah

About that yoga center...

A couple of years ago, someone wrote to Marcellino D'Ambrosio at The Crossroads Initiative to question the wisdom of featuring The Catholic Home on his ministry's website. This person had discovered my marketing communications work for Kripalu yoga center -- toward the end of the 20th century. This person, who apparently had never read anything by Anthony de Mello, S.J., was very concerned. Thus ensued a terrific exchange between me and the ever gracious, sensible, and smart Dr. D'Ambrosio. Note: He still stocks my book.

I have more to say about my yoga years, specifically this: ghee whiz, cut me a break. Anyone who knows anything about contemporary Judaism knows that for American Jews born between 1948 and 1953, futzing around with Hinduism would be as central to our spiritual formation as having a bar/bat mitzvah. Plenty of them would end up picking oranges on an Israeli kibbutz and making a pilgrimage to India. Not me! I would end up peeling carrots in Massachusetts.

As a matter of demographic fact, the proportion of Jews either visiting or in residence at Kripalu far exceeded the proportion of Jews in the general population. And feature this factoid: much of the pranayama, hatha yoga, chanting, meditation, puja, and fire ceremonies took place before a towering mosaic of St. Ignatius Loyola in the main chapel. During an earlier incarnation, the building had been a Jesuit novitiate. No regrets about this pit stop on my spiritual journey. I loved my time in and around that yoga community (née ashram), later depicted in all its delightful weirdness by Stephen Cope.

Shortly after 10 continuous hours of chanting our guru mantra, I switched to the Holy Name, but not because breathing in "Jesus" and breathing out "Christ" got me through 108 mala beads any faster than om namo bhagavate vasudevaya. Jesus Christ was making a whole lot more sense than the guru we ended up firing. Yes, we fired our guru. I eventually ended up becoming Catholic.

By the way, the interest in Buddhism among Jews which ramped up during the 1990s is something I've never quite understood, even after reading Roger Kamenetz and then Sylvia Boorstein on the matter. Okay, so the fixation on suffering makes sense, but the food? Gag me.