Rabbi Michael Leo Samuel

The ancient biblical writers believed that the kidneys were the seat of desire and emotions. For this reason, the kidneys are frequently mentioned in conjunction with the heart (Psa. 7:9; 26:2; 139:13; Jer. 11:20; 17:10). The kidneys were also regarded as the center of the rational and moral faculties (Psa. 16:7; Jer. 12:2).

The reason the kidneys are associated with the person’s innermost being is probably because when an animal is dismembered, the kidneys are the last organ to be reached. Hence, kidneys are a symbol of the innermost being and self-consciousness. Parallels to the biblical references may be found in the Ras Shamra texts, “his kidneys instruct him,” which incidentally has a parallel in the Talmudic concept that “one kidney prompts a man to do good and the other prompts him to do evil.” [1]

Did the rabbis really believe the kidneys “instruct,” a person in a literal or metaphorical sense? This question is unclear. Based on their lack of scientific knowledge, the rabbis probably thought that the kidneys functioned like the brain—at least to some degree. On the other hand, a case could be made that they were speaking merely metaphorically. Most people have what is commonly called, “a gut feeling,” or a “gut reaction,” whenever one is confronted by a situation requiring a quick judgment and decision.

While we typically associate these traits with the brain, it is important to bear in mind that Biblical Hebrew is a visceral kind of language; abstract words like “theology,” or. “theory,” “philosophy,” or even “religion” do not exist, unlike Koine Greek. Rather, there is a concreteness that characterizes the language. A living faith impacts the total person.

In terms of a biblical psychology, the human mind is more often associated with the heart, while judgment is associated also with the kidneys; emotions are associated with one’s bowels (cf. Isa. 63:15). Physical strength is associated with the term “horn,” while the “bones,” represent the self. In fact, the medieval Hebrew term atzmut means essence, for once the body is removed of all its guts, all that remains are the bones (atsamut)-the essence of the once viable person. These expressions are visceral and primal because the human being acts not just on the cerebral level, but also with one’s entire body.

Modern science seems to suggest that a person’s gut feelings are actually connected to the brain via a complex network of neurons derived from the lining of the guts. In fact, scientists refer to this network as a “second brain.” These neural tissues are filled with important neurotransmitters that perform more than just biological functions such as digestion or produce anxiety. A deeper understanding of this mass of neural tissue, filled with important neurotransmitters, is revealing that it does much more than merely handle digestion or inflict the occasional nervous pang. The little brain in our innards, in connection with the big one in our skulls, partly determines our mental state and plays key roles in certain diseases throughout the body, influencing a person’s moods and stress level. Continue Reading

As people get ready for Passover, everyone runs around trying to find suitable foods for the holiday. Over the last several years, I have returned to an old Sephardi custom of my family that goes back literally hundreds of years-I now eat rice and beans during the holiday!

For the greater part of early rabbinic history, rice and legumes used to be considered staple foods for Passover, but when did the change occur? More importantly, why did so many Ashkenazi communities give up on eating rice and legumes? Granted, this may not be the most interesting topic. True, many people could care less about the pedantic discussions regarding the Passover status of rice and legumes.

Nevertheless, the history of this old rabbinic controversy reveals something interesting about the psychology of the forbidding mind that continues to shape the attitudes of many observant Jews who are unaware of this custom’s history and controversy. From a psychoanalytical perspective, the human compulsion to forbid the permitted is what really fascinates me. Understanding the evolution of a community’s mindset can be as exciting as reading a good Sherlock Holmes mystery.

The Talmud mentions how Rav Pappi once gave permission to the Resh Galuta’s bakers to thicken a pot with flour made from hasissi (“oven-dried grain”—Rashi). Tosfot considers Rashi’s insight to be a no-brainer and suggests that hasissi refers to lentil flour; ordinarily, this kind of flour does not become chametz—leavened. [1]. But even this interpretation is unclear. Why was lentil flour forbidden? Tosfot does not really offer a logical explanation. Could the appearance of anything that rises-even if it derives from vegetable flour be the reason for the custom to avoid eating legumes during Passover?

One of the subsequent Tosfot scholars named Rabbi Yitschak of Corbeil (13th century) offers an explanation in his SeMaK (Sefer Mitzvot Katan). He claims that the prohibition was by no means a “new custom,” but had already existed for many generations. The rabbis of early medieval times feared that the grains of rice or legumes might get commingled with wheat, millet, barley, rye, and spelt. “Supposedly,” argued R. Yitzchak, “people used to place their grains in any sack container that was available for storage.” Perhaps the lentil flower became commingled with a bit of wheat flour. A person might easily think he was eating lentil bread, not realizing that some of the forbidden grains might also be a part of the bread. [2]

R. Yosef Caro (author of the Code of Jewish Law) writes in his Beit Yosef commentary to the Tur, that some scholars felt that the average person might not be able to distinguish between the unripened kernels of grain and legumes since they resemble one another.[3] In practice, R. Yosef Caro (in his Beit Yosef) disregards this fear, whereas the Ashkenazi Jews follow the more stringent view and abstain from eating rice and legumes during Passover. Once canonized as “tradition,” people tend to think this is the way it has always been, but it ain’t so! Early Ashkenazi rabbis objected to this stringency for many reasons.

Some rabbinic scholars considered the special Passover proscription as a “mistaken custom,” while R. Yerucham brusquely called it a “foolish custom.” One might wonder, “Why perpetuate a custom that is logically absurd?” Evidently, the champions of common sense ran into a proverbial brick wall. We may derive solace knowing that not all the medieval Ashkenazi rabbis blindly followed this custom. The real reason why beans became forbidden was because beans were the standard food of mourners, and mourning is forbidden during the holidays! The medieval rabbis had forgotten this simple truth, hence the confusion.

There are other reasons why rice and legumes ought to be used for Passover:

• There are not a lot of Passover foods to choose from.

• Rabbinic certification traditionally charges exorbitant prices for their “kosher” supervision. Once again, the public gets taken advantage by the shepherds who are supposed to be concerned with their welfare (cf. Eze. 34ff).

• Halachic stringency sometimes creates a “Holier-than-Thou” type of mentality that trivializes the holiday’s spiritual importance.
• Food affects mood. Eating rice and legumes are healthier for a more balanced diet, and are also arguably preferable to the heavy animal proteins people imbibe during the holiday. A healthier diet makes one feel lighter and less weighed down-perfect metaphors for the spiritual lightness we ought to feel during this special time of the year. Complex carbohydrates are good for mind and energizing for the body!

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