blogs/rabbi-huberman

I don’t think there’s anyone among us who hasn’t heard of the Ten Commandments.

But how many of us have heard of the Seven Commandments?

This series of laws, which predate the giving of the Torah at Mount Sinai, serves as a foundation upon which our country and, perhaps the civilized world, are based.

In 1987, President Ronald Reagan signed a proclamation speaking of "the historical tradition of ethical values and principles… known as the Seven Noahide Laws.”

These laws were reinforced in 1991 by Congress as it officially launched National Education Day.

This is the week in our Torah reading where these rarely-referenced laws are identified and set in motion.

As Noah’s family begins to resettle the earth following the Great Flood, our rabbis identify within the text seven ethical values to govern all of humanity, and these become known as the Noahide Laws:

1.  Do not worship idols.
2.  Do not curse God.
3.  Establish courts of justice.
4.  Do not murder.
5.  Do not engage in sexual immorality.
6.  Do not steal.
7.  Do not eat flesh torn from a living animal.

While many of these Seven Commandments are subsequently covered by the Ten Commandments and other edicts, that last one has always intrigued me.

It deals with respect for animals.

We are told not to tear a piece of flesh from a living animal. (Genesis 9:3-4) Indeed, this commandment would not have been necessary, if it were not likely a prevailing practice within the Middle East.

Therefore, the Torah makes special mention of it. By extension, we are taught to respect and protect all of earth's creatures. Indeed, where would we be without animals?

I recall the excitement one autumn afternoon in 1993, while working in the First Nations community of Fort Chipewyan, Alberta, as a group of hunters entered the main town square with a moose they had procured. 

Immediately, the community went to work. A prayer of gratitude was offered by the elders. Meat was divided among all households.

Organs were identified according to their use in either food or medicine. Skins were removed and treated for conversion into gloves and mukluks. Glands were gathered to sell to perfumers in Paris.

One word rang in my ears as I stood back, watching all of this, and that word was respect.

This week’s Torah reading speaks of respect. We are commanded to reflect on the dignity of all of God’s creatures.

Our ancient rabbis saw within this a commandment to avoid inflicting pain on animals. It became incumbent on us, as human beings, to ensure the respect and protection due these beings with whom we share the earth.

This commandment isn’t included among those received later in the Torah at Mount Sinai. Rather, it came before these, and is intended for all of humanity. The earlier commandment reminds us of our lifelong partnership with animals.

In particular, our pets are precious to us. When a new pet arrives in our home, it overwhelmingly grants us the privilege of feeling unconditional love. And when a pet passes away, we understand that we have lost one of our family, and we mourn that loss. 

Pets provide us with comfort. They share the world with us, and they demand so little.

Jewish tradition takes humanity’s relationship with animals seriously. Within the Talmud, this prohibition against animal cruelty is covered under a series of laws under the category of — tza’ar ba’alei chayim: the suffering of animals.

The laws of Kashrut demand that we think about what we consume, and how we consume it. In part, they are designed to provide a more humane and thoughtful way of killing an animal. For each carries blood, the essence of life.

Our laws forbid working an animal day and night, or combining a short and tall animal together under the same yoke because doing this causes suffering to both. On the Sabbath, we are commanded to consider animals as ourselves, and ensure that they rest.

It is a beautiful series of laws connected with this week’s Torah reading which confirm, as humanity begins to raise itself from a devastating flood, the need for sensitivity towards the rights and comfort of these creatures who we share the world with.

And perhaps, just perhaps, if we are kinder to the smaller animals which surround us, that kindness will grow into a habit that defines how we treat one another.

How many of us, after all, first learned to share love as children, in the caring of a new kitten or puppy?

As we read second parashah of Genesis this week, we are reminded not to tear the limb off of a live animal, and therefore, by extension, we are urged to think about the treatment of all animals, and the blessed role they play in our lives.

This coming Sunday, in recognition of this commandment, our synagogue—and many churches, as is tradition—will bless our animals in a parade, to take place just after noon.

For each creature is a gift from God.

From the smallest to the largest. From the weak to the mighty.

Each is precious in God’s sight.

Shabbat shalom, v’kol tuv,

Rabbi Irwin Huberman