The choice to fast. A choice many of us feel compelled to make as we observe this yontif of Yom Kippur. Fasting goes hand in hand with the observance with Yom Kippur, a biblically rooted and weighty expectation of this holiday. The Levitical hand reminds us that this should be a day in which ועניתם את נפשיכם, we practice “self affliction.” (Lev 23:27) According to the Mishnah, fasting is but one of five ways in which we are to practice ‘self-affliction.’ We are also to abstain from bathing, the use of soaps and perfumes, wearing leather shoes, and sexual relations. (M. Yoma 8.1) Yet, for most of us, fasting has become the primary and most identifiable way in which we put ourselves in that temporary state of self denial intended to help us focus our full attention on the task of t’shuvah, of repentence. How fortunate we are to be in such a position that we can choose such self affliction!
Fasting has always been associated with religious expression and can be found as a form of ritual observance in all mainstream religions. In the ancient world, fasting was considered a direct means to spiritual enlightenment -- to God. In his critique of unintentful fasting, the prophet Isaiah (as we will hear tomorrow morning) forwards fasting as a vehicle for self-improvement. It should lift us and propel us towards working for the betterment of the world!
Fasting as a tool for spiritual enlightenment has now become popular outside of mainstream religious life, so popular that it became subject matter for journalist David Rokaff who experimented with fasting for a segment of National Public Radio’s This American Life. Despite its Norman Rockwell-esque title, Baltimore born Ira Glass’ This American Life offers a far more realistic peak into the corners of our American quirks and obsessions.
Fasts are marketed and popularized on the notion that the human body requires detoxification, an eradication of the apparently unavoidable build-up of toxins in our systems. Self improvement perhaps, but far from the type of t’shuvah our Biblical Isaiah envisioned! Many who embark on such fasts are motivated not only by the physical purge, but also by the role that fasting has played in most religions – namely that promise of spiritual enlightenment - that sense of physical and spiritual uplift not so different from what many of us seek over the next 20 hours or so.
Mr. Rokaff’s journey was enlightening for sure. Not in the way in which we might expect, yet in a way that can help us approach our Yom Kippur fasting with appropriate purpose. First, Rokaff noted the narcissistic elements of fasting. “[it] was one of the most self-obsessed things I’ve ever done in my life, and I say that as a first person journalist,” he remarked. This is a man who, as he reminds us, makes his living by being self-obsessed - experiencing life and reporting on it from the vantage point of “I”, the self. For him to acknowledge the potential for self-absorption in the exercise of fasting should serve as warning to us.
His second relevant observation surfaced after encountering a woman begging for food on the subway. Not money, mind you, but specifically food. Mr. Rokaff had no food in his bag; but, as he noted, though he might not have had food on him anyway, "no clarity or serenity in the world gave [him] the chutzpah" to admit why he didn’t have food on that particular day. His encounter underscores how fortunate most of us are that we are indeed in such a position that we can choose such self affliction.
Many are not as lucky; and the irony of the situation is that while some of the wealthiest members of our society are striving for enlightenment through the purposeful avoidance of available and plentiful nutritious offerings, the poorest members of our nation are starving in an environment of incredibly shallow abundance. The US Farm Bill’s over-funding of and prioritizing of certain crops (a result of placing corporate America over and above the needs of the consumer) has created and fostered a market saturated by an over-supply of nutritionally depressed foods in our nation and an abundance of what have been termed ‘food deserts’ in many urban areas including Baltimore.
A ‘food desert’ is a large geographic area with either no or extremely limited access to grocery stores. The residents in these areas generally have an imbalance of food choices available to them due to their dependence upon fast food outlets, convenience and liquor stores for the bulk of their shopping; they have virtually no access to affordable fresh or whole food. Public health studies have documented that residents of such ‘food deserts’ suffer physically and are at significantly increased risk of documentable diet-related health concerns such as diabetes, cancer, heart disease, and ultimately premature death. And, I’d bet they are as susceptible to a variety of other diet related stresses that are less documentable such as compromised immune systems and depression.
Those of us who have access to and thus can choose to eat, not to eat, and what to eat from a wide-range of options, may not fully comprehend the seriousness of this situation. One can argue that there is no supply in these areas because of a lack of demand. If the residents would buy it, it would be there. Yet despite the seemingly simple logic of this economically grounded argument, there are those who would remind us that the continuous lack of supply of healthy food to these areas has created a situation where the conscious ‘demand’ for anything other than nutritionally compromised foods has been virtually erased.
Anthropologist Sidney Mintz, a research professor at Hopkins who has devoted the bulk of his long career to the study of food systems, notes that we, that is human beings, are the only animal species that no longer naturally knows what to eat and moreover consciously eat foods that have the potential to do us harm. In other words, we are easily susceptible to adapting to changes in what’s offered, what’s supplied. Of course, such ‘food domestication’ as scholars call it – the fact that our mind can trump biology, is what separates us from the rest of the animal kingdom. And for all of its challenges, doubtful any of us would trade in this hallmark of our humanity. We can eat both for survival – for pure nutritional needs; but we can also savor our foods and take delight in them. Who would give up that rich chocolate bar that has little useful value beyond sheer pleasure? Those who are privy to the various chocolate stashes in my office know that I’m no advocate for removing joy from eating. But when offered only certain options, such as inexpensive, overly processed foods saturated with sugar, fat, and salt as the mainstay – what’s offered in the corner markets in these ‘food deserts’, we humans adapt quite quickly to fulfilling our hunger with food that simply won’t sustain us physically or emotionally in the long run. Our urban neighbors dwelling in these food deserts are fasting with no awareness of the magnitude of their hunger.
Awareness is the first step in challenging this complex cycle that dictates the utter lack of wholesome options in these areas and in turn distorts demand for such options. And my goal in this sermon is just that – to raise awareness about this issue, an issue that in my opinion should be on the forefront of our consciousness as liberal Jews. It is not to judge anyone’s dietary habits (I’m certainly in no position to do that: has anyone seen the chocolate stashes in my office?), but rather to help us become aware of the food options being offered to us and to our urban neighbors, the business behind those offerings, and the ultimate impact such offerings make on our society as a whole.
Awareness. “Agribusiness” -- the business behind farming and an extremely powerful lobby that greatly impacts the supply side of our food offerings due to its influence on the Farm Bill an important piece of renewable legislation that dictates government subsidies to US farmers. Under the current Farm Bill, 80% of farm subsidies go to grains that can easily be made into inexpensive, not necessarily healthful, foods; 80% goes there as opposed to fruits and vegetables. It is precisely these unbalanced food subsidies that dictate the relatively high prices of fresh food as opposed to the inexpensive prices of packaged processed food. And it is these unbalanced subsidies (and our demand for inexpensive food) that create an environment where wholesome options become simply too expensive and unavailable to many in our society. Our most nutritious food offerings have become a luxury instead of the necessity that they are.
The impact of agribusiness on the nation’s farm bill ultimately impacts our nation’s health care industry as well. To quote Journalism professor, author, and New York Times Magazine contributor, Michael Pollen, “The American way of eating has become the elephant in the room in the debate over health care.” (NYTimes 9/10/2009) Yes, our first lady has committed herself to planting an extraordinary garden on the property of the White House and to educating our nation’s youth about the importance of whole foods (kol hakavod to her for her efforts), but food system reform has not formally entered the conversation about health care; and it should. The government’s gross subsidy of convenience over whole foods leads to a situation where our tax dollars are in a very real sense contributing to the high costs of health care. As Mr. Pollen writes, there’s a ton of money to be made selling an over abundance of fast food and then treating the resulting disease that this over abundance causes.
Perhaps most frustrating is the historical lack of interest in changing the system. As an older colleague of mine reminded me this past winter when we were studying together, the lack of equitable access to wholesome food is far from a new problem. Certainly the issue gets more publicity than in the past (most likely due to our nation’s gross obsession with diet in general), but it is a problem that dates, as she recalls, at least to 1969 (to put that year into perspective, I was 3 yrs old in 1969!). One would think we’ve made some significant progress by now.
An example of how little progress has been made on the public need for affordable wholesome food? Our public school subsidized meal programs. The ideal behind government sponsored meals in our nation’s public schools can be summarized by Napoleon’s motto, “An army marches on its stomach.” Literally. America’s school lunch program began in 1946 under the tenure of President Truman in response to malnutrition in young people who were enlisting into the armed forces. Paradoxically, today’s subsidized meal programs, which now include breakfast and after school snacks in many schools, might be causing or at least reinforcing malnutrition in many cases.
I had the less than tantalizing experience of sampling a typical subsidized breakfast offered in our Baltimore city schools recently at a study session on this issue in which I participated. Every item made available to us was an example of a pre-sweetened, processed food. Not a single fresh fruit or vegetable– whole or in juice form - was offered. It was all beige: cereal, pre-sweetened waffles, sugary muffins, pop-tarts, and either chocolate or strawberry milk. No white milk. When asked why white milk was not served? We were told there was no demand for it by the students. An example of the complex cycle of supply and demand – which really comes first? And what’s our responsibility to challenging it and making sure there is white milk available to our kids, particularly the very kids who may need it most because they ain't getting it elsewhere?
Poverty is certainly a factor. “There will never cease to be those in need,” the Deuteronomist reminds us. Poverty, however, is not the entire problem, an easy scapegoat perhaps; yet, the biblical text makes it clear that we are not to accept these circumstances as unchangeable. Rather, it is incumbent upon us to identify those in need and to address the situation with an open and generous hand.
The production, preparation, as well as the eating of food is a holy occupation that impacts our very sustainability. It is not enough to approach food solely as consumers. Perhaps the ideal of kashrut can be informative. Few of us give much thought to kashrut – we either routinely accept or more likely dismiss the minutia of the ritual standards, standards codified for the most part in the middle ages and accepted as immutable due to the Orthodox hold on the institution. But the idea of creating a modern expectation of sanctity and wholeness – a sense of kasher, of fitness - surrounding the production and marketing of food is compelling.
To do so, we must recognize the impact of agribusiness and our role as consumers. We must do our part to pressure the food industry towards considering what is best for humanity by demanding healthy, sustainable options that are as available and as inexpensive as those supported by the current Farm Bill. We must support those farmers who remain committed to growing produce not currently valued by our Farm Bill while pushing for changes in future Farm Bills (the current Farm Bill is up for renewal in 2012, by the way). We must celebrate small advances such as the fairly recent innovation which allowed recipients of food vouchers to purchase fresh produce at neighborhood farmer’s markets. We must support local efforts at education and community gardening such as those currently being made in Baltimore by the Food & Faith Project of the Johns Hopkins Center for a livable future.
On this Day of Atonement, a day when so many of us are choosing to fast, let us be sure that our fast not become a narcissistic, self-absorbed occupation. As Isaiah demands, “הלוא זה צום אבחרהו” : “Is not this the fast that I have chosen: to unlock the shackles of injustice, to loosen the ropes of the yoke…” Indeed, let us not take for granted how easy it will be for us to break our fast. Not everyone has that choice. Tzom Kal – an easy -- yet thoughtful & intentful fast to you.
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