June 26, 2026 Categories: Torah / Halacha & Hashkafa
Chew on This: From the Mundane Table to the Sacred Altar
Chullin – Daf 2
We now begin Tractate Chullin which discusses the laws of slaughter and other aspects of kosher food. The Maaseh Rokeach often mines the legal declarations of the Mishna for hints at mystical truths. Regarding Chullin’s placement after the laws of sacrifices, he states that this follows the verses in Vayikra, which first discuss the laws of sacrifices and then the laws of kosher. But what is the deeper meaning of that order?
Eating itself is to be viewed as a form of sacrifice. The consumption of food to empower the body to serve G-d can be as symbolically and intentionally powerful as offering a sacrifice on the altar. It depends on the person’s kavana. This is part of the meaning that “The table in one’s home can serve as an altar” (Menachos 97a). And interestingly, Maaseh Rokeach points out that the words Chullin and shulchan (table) share four identical Hebrew letters, Ches-Vav-Lamed-Nun. The only difference is the Yud in Chullin and the Shin in shulchan. According to one order of At-Bash-like Hebrew letter analysis, the Shin and Yud are parallel letters. (I’ll explain this system shortly.) Therefore, the message is that your Chullin food is only superficially profane, but actually hidden within it is a holy Shulchan and altar by which to live a life of devotion and godly service.
Now to explain this particular letter system, which is called Al-Bam: If you line up the Hebrew alphabet in two rows, from Aleph to Kaf, and then, with a line underneath, you write Lamed through Tav, Aleph will be parallel to Lamed, Beis to Mem, and so on. This makes Yud and Shin parallel. Parallelism from the mystical perspective represents the duality of the lower physical form and the higher spiritual manifestation. Parallels are equivalent, or at least comparable in some way. Just as the Yud and the Shin are parallel and thus upper and lower manifestations of the same godly truth, so too the Chullin on the Shulchan parallel the Temple sacrifice in a hidden, inner way.
In a certain way, one can argue from the mystical standpoint – really from G-d’s standpoint – that all is one and everything contains everything since it all comes from G-d. In human terms, certain places and experiences feel closer to G-d because they somehow allow for more perception of Him. So, offering a sacrifice at the Temple in a designated and holy place allows for a greater sense of the sacred (see Moreh Nevuchim III:47, beginning of chapter.)
At the same time, it’s a representation of an idea that could be true in a broader sense. Just as Yom Kippur is an intensely available moment for repentance, but we could repent any day, so too, the Temple service is a high representation of sacrifice to G-d, but simply eating and living properly to serve G-d can also be sacrifice and service.
Cutting Edge: The Torah’s Ambivalence Toward Technology
Daf 3 Our Gemara on amud aleph discusses the interesting status of metal that comes in contact with a corpse. A corpse, already the highest level of impurity, transmits impurity at the same level through metal that is in contact with it. Ordinarily, a corpse which contacts another item will transmit impurity but also step down one level, which means that the chain erodes and eventually ends at levels 3-5 depending on whether it is for the holiest sacrificial food, kohen portions (terumah), or regular food (Chullin). What is the reason for this intensity of transmission between metal and a corpse? The verse (Bamidbar 19:16) gives us a hint when it describes it as “…anyone who touches a corpse of one who was killed by a sword lying in the field…” We can assume that when the Written Torah uses a specific case to describe a law that will be broader in the Oral Torah, the purpose of the text is to shed light on the law. For example, the Torah forbids cooking meat and milk, but the actual text discusses cooking a kid in its mother’s milk. We are not going to get into explaining this right now, but it is a good assumption that there is some core reason for forbidding the cooking of meat and milk in general that stems from its epitomized example of the kid in the mother’s milk. So too here, while it is true that all metal transmits the impurity, the deeper reason why comes from the particularly noxious and destructive aspects of the sword that killed the corpse. Let us take a deeper look. Recanati (ibid.) hints at something primeval and evil. The field in the verse is the same field in which Kayin killed Hevel, and the sword is the sword of Esav. What is this really about? In general, we can understand the impact of corpses on the human psyche as despair and a feeling of emptiness. The Hebrew word for corpse is challal, which means empty (of soul). Without connecting to G-d, this despair can overtake us, perhaps making us feel lost in the impermanence of everything physical and spiral into nihilism. The more severe the loss, the longer and more severe the impurity. The impurities that require a seven-day waiting period seem to suggest a need to reprocess and go through a re-creation represented by the seven days of Creation. Childbirth and menstruation are also losses of life – life growing within and potential life – which also require a recentering and re-creation and thus have similar impurity rituals. (This is an amalgam of ideas on how to understand ritual impurity, and is based on themes that have been developed by others; see, for example, Rav Hirsch on Bamidbar 19:13). Keeping that in mind, we can see then why a corpse that was murdered by the sword – and by symbolic extension, metal that comes in contact with a corpse – manifest the highest form of impurity. You might still ask, “I can understand an actual corpse that is in contact with a sword, but why generalize it so much to include metal in general?” We see a similar phenomenon with the stones of the altar. The halachic requirement is not to use any metal instrument to fashion or hew the stones of the altar. The traditional reason given is so that the altar does not have anything to do with warfare and death, which metal utensils often are used for. The verse itself seems to reference both the problem of using metal and its association with instruments of death (Shemos 20:22): “And if you make for Me an altar of stones, do not build it of hewn stones; for by wielding your sword upon them you have profaned them.” To understand this better, I think it’s important to tune ourselves into the Torah’s ambivalence regarding technology. On the one hand, there is technology used in the Torah. This includes mathematical science, in order to calculate the movement of the planets and the moon, and artisanal expertise that was used in crafting the Mishkan and its utensils. On the other hand, the verses in Bereishis give credit to various tools manufactured by the descendants of Kayin, the first man who committed murder (see Bereishis 4:20-24.) Furthermore, although it’s not exactly stated in the text, what was the sin of the tower of Bavel? The simple reading indicates a difficulty with the hubris fostered by the technological achievement of building the tower. Therefore, the extension of impurity from sword to all metal, and the similar application by the altar equating all metal to swords, might be hinting at the importance of recognizing the dangers of technology. Unfortunately, the military often drives technological innovation, and technological innovations are often used toward militaristic aims. Clearly, technology can be used toward the advancement of material and even spiritual success by promoting health and welfare, but we must not let it turn into the Tower of Bavel.The Oldest Con: Yitzchak, Esav, and Seeing the Good
Daf 4 Our Gemara on amud beis brings a proof that one can eat from meat slaughtered by a Jewish idol worshiper. The proof comes from Yehoshaphat, king of Judea, who partook of the feast prepared by Achav, king of Israel, who was a transgressor with the sin of idol worship. Some ask, why not bring a proof from Yitzchak who asked to eat meat from Esav’s hunting? After all, the Midrash states that Esav was already an idolator at the time that Yaakov purchased the birthright (see Rashi on Bereishis 25:27.) The simplest answer is that Yitzchak did not know that Esav had gone astray, as the plain reading of the verse (ibid. 28) states: “And Yitzchak loved Esav because he fed him trappings.” The Midrashic explanation is that Esav trapped Yaakov and “fed” him lines of false piety (see Rashi ibid.). If so, one might ask, “But still, we have a tradition that G-d does not allow the righteous to transgress eating non-kosher, even inadvertently (see Gittin 7a and Tosafos.) If so, how could G-d have allowed Yitzchak to be in the dark about this? The elegant answer is that, after all, Yitzchak never ended up eating from Esav’s hunting because Yaakov fed him first. (Though the simple reading of the text we quoted shows that Yitzchak enjoyed eating food hunted by Esav, perhaps the inference was retrospective, from before Esav went bad.) I will add another thought. Yitzchak could see no wrong with Esav. The Midrashic peshat is that Esav smooth-talked his father and “fed him trappings.” But there is a question: Who was fooling whom? There is an adage that the best con man makes his victim think he is the one conning the actual perpetrator. Yitzchak’s refusal to see evil in Esav can be read as seeing his good qualities and strengths, such as that Esav was a hunter and devoted to his father. This could have “fooled” and inspired Esav into being better than he was, because Yitzchak could only see it as good. In the end it didn’t, and Esav made his choices. But even so, does that mean Esav was fooling his father? If Yitzchak wanted to see Esav with a critical eye, he could have. The point might be that he was right for not doing so, even though it might not have had the effect he intended.
