(no subject)
Eco-Kosher Movement Aims To Heed Tradition, Conscience
By Alan Cooperman
Washington Post Staff Writer
Saturday, July 7, 2007; A01
First she had to find an organic cattle farm near Washington. Then
a shochet, a person trained in kosher slaughtering, who was
willing to do a freelance job. Then a kosher butcher to carve the
beef into various cuts and other families from her synagogue to
share it.
All told, it took Devora Kimelman-Block of Silver Spring 10 months
to obtain 450 pounds of meat that is local, grass-fed, organic and
strictly kosher. Which is a lot of effort -- and a lot of meat --
for someone who keeps a kosher vegetarian household.
"Here I am, leading this meat thing, and we don't even eat meat in
our house," she said.
The only way to make sense of Kimelman-Block's effort is to
understand that she is part of a budding movement, sometimes
called "eco-kosher," that combines traditional Jewish dietary laws
with new concerns about industrial agriculture, global warming and
fair treatment of workers. Eco-kosher, in turn, is part of the
greening of American religion -- the rapid infusion of
environmental issues into the mainstream of religious life.
Notoriously drafty churches are insulating their ceilings and
buying renewable energy through a ministry named Interfaith Power
& Light. Synagogues are switching to compact fluorescent light
bulbs. The vice president of the National Association of
Evangelicals drives a Toyota Prius, and more than 50 other
evangelical Christian leaders have pledged to neutralize their
"carbon footprints" through energy conservation.
But, for many people, the primary daily impact of rising
environmental consciousness is on the food they eat. They want it
to be produced locally, sustainably, organically and
humanely. Increasingly, religious people view this as a religious
obligation, not just a matter of good health or ethics. The trend
is advancing particularly fast among Jews, who have a long
tradition of investing food with religious meaning.
"I would no sooner bring eggs from caged, battery-farmed hens into
my home than I would shrimp or pork," said Nigel S. Savage, who
keeps a kosher household in New York. He edits a Web site, the Jew
and the Carrot ( http://www.jcarrot.org), that is devoted to what
he calls "the new Jewish food movement."
Since going online in November, the Jew and the Carrot has vaulted
from 300 hits a month to 300,000. But the most dramatic expansion
of eco-kosher principles is likely to come in the next few years
as Conservative rabbis and congregations, which occupy the middle
ground between Orthodox and Reform Judaism, create a new ethical
standard for food production.
The Conservative seal of approval will not be based on traditional
kosher requirements, such as separating meat from dairy products,
avoiding pork and shellfish, and slaughtering animals with a sharp
knife across the throat.
Rather, the Conservative hechsher tzedek, Hebrew for "justice
certification," will attest that a particular food was produced at
a plant that meets ethical norms in six areas: fair wages and
benefits, health and safety, training, corporate transparency,
animal welfare, and environmental impact.
Rabbi Morris Allen of Mendota Heights, Minn., head of the
committee drafting the rules, said he hopes to have enforceable
standards in place by Rosh Hashanah, in September. Within a year
after that, he said, the justice certification should begin to
appear on packaged foods.
Allen emphasized that the hechsher tzedek is meant to supplement,
rather than replace, traditional kosher certification. Still, the
idea has stirred attacks from some Orthodox authorities, who
contend that it will cause confusion about what is truly kosher.
"We're not trying to muscle ourselves into the business that
others have developed" of certifying kosher foods, Allen said. "We
do believe that most Jews, if given a choice between 'This item is
kosher' and 'This item is kosher and also was produced by a
company that respects its workers and the environment,' that most
Jews will choose the latter."
Only about 15 percent of the nation's roughly 5.2 million Jews
keep kosher. Yet their buying power, plus the appeal of kosher
items to some other consumers, has resulted in a huge
market. Kosher certification now appears on 100,000 food products,
made by 10,500 companies, worth $225 billion a year, according to
Menachem Lubinsky, editor of the trade publication KosherToday.
In consumer surveys, less than a quarter of the shoppers who
deliberately choose kosher products are observant Jews, Lubinsky
said. That statistic is not lost on Conservative rabbis, who
acknowledge that their new certification could appeal to both Jews
and non-Jews.
Kimelman-Block, who is married to a Conservative rabbi, recalled
feeling ashamed after reading articles last year in the Jewish
newspaper the Forward about the treatment of workers and cattle at
a large kosher slaughterhouse in Iowa.
"I know that [the Iowa plant] is probably no worse than the other
U.S. food processors, but they're doing it in the name of Judaism,
in the name of holiness," she said. "That's the thing about
kashrut -- it's supposed to be ethical, and it . . . has this dark
side that either people don't know about, or if they know about,
they think it's irrelevant."
Allen voiced similar feelings after he and other Conservative
rabbis inspected the Agriprocessors plant in Postville, Iowa, in
March 2006 and found labor practices that they suspect are also
common in non-kosher plants.
"We found people arriving from the mountainsides of Guatemala on a
Tuesday and being on the front of the production line on
Wednesday," Allen said. "We saw people who could barely read
Spanish getting training in English and having no idea what was
said to them."
Agriprocessors says the allegations were false or overblown and
have been resolved, and Orthodox inspectors have reiterated that
the plant's output is strictly kosher. But Allen said his visit to
the slaughterhouse changed his thinking.
"Having promoted kashrut for 21 years and made it a central part
of my rabbinate, all of a sudden it made sense to me: How could I
be satisfied if the ritual aspects of kashrut were being followed,
but the way the workers were treated was degrading and contrary to
Jewish ethical norms?" he asked.
As the movement catches on, the number of products certified as
both kosher and organic is rising fast. The Jew and the Carrot Web
site has spawned 10 community-supported agricultural cooperatives,
in which Jews around the country have bought shares in local
farmers' organic harvests.
One of them is Kimelman-Block's group of about 25 families at
Tifereth Israel Congregation on 16th Street in Northwest
Washington. Three years ago, they began obtaining fruits and
vegetables from a farm in Brandywine. This year, they arranged for
free-range kosher chickens and grass-fed kosher beef as well.
"I'm very interested in my children having a relationship with
where their food comes from," said Kimelman-Block, 36, who has two
daughters and a son, ages 2 to 7. "I just think it's an important
part of what I'm teaching them that we go out to this farm and we
know the farmer and we help plant the potatoes and help pick the
strawberries."
Since many eco-kosher Jews are reducing or eliminating meat from
their diet, Kimelman-Block is faintly embarrassed to be moving in
the other direction. But after 14 years of mostly vegetarian
eating, with occasional fish for protein, she is excited about
consuming small quantities of beef and chicken -- as long as she
knows its origin.
"Environmental issues used to depress me. It was just bleak," she
said. "Doing something makes me feel much more positive."
By Alan Cooperman
Washington Post Staff Writer
Saturday, July 7, 2007; A01
First she had to find an organic cattle farm near Washington. Then
a shochet, a person trained in kosher slaughtering, who was
willing to do a freelance job. Then a kosher butcher to carve the
beef into various cuts and other families from her synagogue to
share it.
All told, it took Devora Kimelman-Block of Silver Spring 10 months
to obtain 450 pounds of meat that is local, grass-fed, organic and
strictly kosher. Which is a lot of effort -- and a lot of meat --
for someone who keeps a kosher vegetarian household.
"Here I am, leading this meat thing, and we don't even eat meat in
our house," she said.
The only way to make sense of Kimelman-Block's effort is to
understand that she is part of a budding movement, sometimes
called "eco-kosher," that combines traditional Jewish dietary laws
with new concerns about industrial agriculture, global warming and
fair treatment of workers. Eco-kosher, in turn, is part of the
greening of American religion -- the rapid infusion of
environmental issues into the mainstream of religious life.
Notoriously drafty churches are insulating their ceilings and
buying renewable energy through a ministry named Interfaith Power
& Light. Synagogues are switching to compact fluorescent light
bulbs. The vice president of the National Association of
Evangelicals drives a Toyota Prius, and more than 50 other
evangelical Christian leaders have pledged to neutralize their
"carbon footprints" through energy conservation.
But, for many people, the primary daily impact of rising
environmental consciousness is on the food they eat. They want it
to be produced locally, sustainably, organically and
humanely. Increasingly, religious people view this as a religious
obligation, not just a matter of good health or ethics. The trend
is advancing particularly fast among Jews, who have a long
tradition of investing food with religious meaning.
"I would no sooner bring eggs from caged, battery-farmed hens into
my home than I would shrimp or pork," said Nigel S. Savage, who
keeps a kosher household in New York. He edits a Web site, the Jew
and the Carrot ( http://www.jcarrot.org), that is devoted to what
he calls "the new Jewish food movement."
Since going online in November, the Jew and the Carrot has vaulted
from 300 hits a month to 300,000. But the most dramatic expansion
of eco-kosher principles is likely to come in the next few years
as Conservative rabbis and congregations, which occupy the middle
ground between Orthodox and Reform Judaism, create a new ethical
standard for food production.
The Conservative seal of approval will not be based on traditional
kosher requirements, such as separating meat from dairy products,
avoiding pork and shellfish, and slaughtering animals with a sharp
knife across the throat.
Rather, the Conservative hechsher tzedek, Hebrew for "justice
certification," will attest that a particular food was produced at
a plant that meets ethical norms in six areas: fair wages and
benefits, health and safety, training, corporate transparency,
animal welfare, and environmental impact.
Rabbi Morris Allen of Mendota Heights, Minn., head of the
committee drafting the rules, said he hopes to have enforceable
standards in place by Rosh Hashanah, in September. Within a year
after that, he said, the justice certification should begin to
appear on packaged foods.
Allen emphasized that the hechsher tzedek is meant to supplement,
rather than replace, traditional kosher certification. Still, the
idea has stirred attacks from some Orthodox authorities, who
contend that it will cause confusion about what is truly kosher.
"We're not trying to muscle ourselves into the business that
others have developed" of certifying kosher foods, Allen said. "We
do believe that most Jews, if given a choice between 'This item is
kosher' and 'This item is kosher and also was produced by a
company that respects its workers and the environment,' that most
Jews will choose the latter."
Only about 15 percent of the nation's roughly 5.2 million Jews
keep kosher. Yet their buying power, plus the appeal of kosher
items to some other consumers, has resulted in a huge
market. Kosher certification now appears on 100,000 food products,
made by 10,500 companies, worth $225 billion a year, according to
Menachem Lubinsky, editor of the trade publication KosherToday.
In consumer surveys, less than a quarter of the shoppers who
deliberately choose kosher products are observant Jews, Lubinsky
said. That statistic is not lost on Conservative rabbis, who
acknowledge that their new certification could appeal to both Jews
and non-Jews.
Kimelman-Block, who is married to a Conservative rabbi, recalled
feeling ashamed after reading articles last year in the Jewish
newspaper the Forward about the treatment of workers and cattle at
a large kosher slaughterhouse in Iowa.
"I know that [the Iowa plant] is probably no worse than the other
U.S. food processors, but they're doing it in the name of Judaism,
in the name of holiness," she said. "That's the thing about
kashrut -- it's supposed to be ethical, and it . . . has this dark
side that either people don't know about, or if they know about,
they think it's irrelevant."
Allen voiced similar feelings after he and other Conservative
rabbis inspected the Agriprocessors plant in Postville, Iowa, in
March 2006 and found labor practices that they suspect are also
common in non-kosher plants.
"We found people arriving from the mountainsides of Guatemala on a
Tuesday and being on the front of the production line on
Wednesday," Allen said. "We saw people who could barely read
Spanish getting training in English and having no idea what was
said to them."
Agriprocessors says the allegations were false or overblown and
have been resolved, and Orthodox inspectors have reiterated that
the plant's output is strictly kosher. But Allen said his visit to
the slaughterhouse changed his thinking.
"Having promoted kashrut for 21 years and made it a central part
of my rabbinate, all of a sudden it made sense to me: How could I
be satisfied if the ritual aspects of kashrut were being followed,
but the way the workers were treated was degrading and contrary to
Jewish ethical norms?" he asked.
As the movement catches on, the number of products certified as
both kosher and organic is rising fast. The Jew and the Carrot Web
site has spawned 10 community-supported agricultural cooperatives,
in which Jews around the country have bought shares in local
farmers' organic harvests.
One of them is Kimelman-Block's group of about 25 families at
Tifereth Israel Congregation on 16th Street in Northwest
Washington. Three years ago, they began obtaining fruits and
vegetables from a farm in Brandywine. This year, they arranged for
free-range kosher chickens and grass-fed kosher beef as well.
"I'm very interested in my children having a relationship with
where their food comes from," said Kimelman-Block, 36, who has two
daughters and a son, ages 2 to 7. "I just think it's an important
part of what I'm teaching them that we go out to this farm and we
know the farmer and we help plant the potatoes and help pick the
strawberries."
Since many eco-kosher Jews are reducing or eliminating meat from
their diet, Kimelman-Block is faintly embarrassed to be moving in
the other direction. But after 14 years of mostly vegetarian
eating, with occasional fish for protein, she is excited about
consuming small quantities of beef and chicken -- as long as she
knows its origin.
"Environmental issues used to depress me. It was just bleak," she
said. "Doing something makes me feel much more positive."