The Divine demand that Moshe Rabenu communicated to Pharoah was not just“let my people go”. It was “let my people go that they may serve me.”
As Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch notes, freedom is the opportunity to choose, and the value of such freedom lies in what one chooses. The higher the ideals that one lives by and strives for, the greater the value of such freedom.
Of all the social values that the Torah derives from the Pesach story, arguably the most important is that of compassion.
When demanding of us to care for and share with the poor; the orphan, the widow, and the stranger; the Torah draws on the experience of our deliverance from bondage as the historical impulse for such moral conduct. Our sages point out that we are reminded thirty-six times in the Torah that we were (persecuted) strangers in the land of Egypt, in order to galvanize our moral sensitivity and conduct.
And it is not only towards other human beings that the Torah requires us to be compassionate. The various laws regarding the prohibition of causing pain to animals(tza’ar ba’alei chayim) reflect the words of the psalmist “His mercies are over all His creatures.” (see Maimonides, GuideSection 3Chapter 48.) Indeed, this phrase from psalm 145is referred to by Rabbi Avraham Yitzhak Hacohen Kook to clarify that the charge of “dominion”given to the first humans in relation to sentient life as a whole, must be the rule of care and compassion for all creatures (and not, Heaven forbid , a license for exploitation), as we are commanded to emulate the Divine Attributes (and be holy as the Creator is holy.) In the words of the Talmudic sage Abba Shaul “Just as He is gracious and merciful, so you should be gracious and merciful.”
While the Torah permits the consumption of animal products (and there may have surely been times and places when people might not have been able to obtain all necessary nutrients otherwise), it is evident that a diet that does not involve killing any creature is the Torah’s ideal.
The first human beings in the Garden of Eden lived on a plant-based diet (see Rashi on Genesis 1:29 ) and only after the corruption of humanity and the consequent great Flood was meat eating permitted. Many of our greatest rabbinic commentators over the generations saw this concession as a temporary license to accommodate human weakness and envisioned a messianic return to a plant based diet in keeping with Hosea 2:20 , “On that day, I will make a covenant for them with the beasts of the field, the birds of the air, and the creeping things of the ground; I will also banish bow, sword, and war from the land. Thus, I will enable them to lie down in safety.”
Great mediaeval rabbinic authorities like Rabbi Joseph Albo, declared that the original plant-based lifestyle will be reestablished in messianic future. This affirmation was developed significantly in modern times by Rabbi Abraham Isaac Kook, the first Chief Rabbi of pre-state Israel and one of the greatest Orthodox Jewish thinkers of the modern era. He declares in keeping with the statement by our sagesthat ”in future times all sacrifices will be abolished except for the thanksgiving offering” (Vayikra Rabbah 9:7),that the latter is referring to the meal offering and that “sacrifices in the Temple will consist of vegetation, and it will be pleasing to God as in days of old…” in accordance with the vision of Isaiah (11: 6-9.)He writes that it is inconceivable that the Creator who had planned a world of harmony and a perfect way for man to live, should jettison this original plant-based diet and not reestablish this way of life in the ideal future. He explains that meat eating was a concession granted to man after humanity’s corruption and the consequent Flood, out of Divine concern that people might even eat the flesh of human beings due to their inability to control their lust for flesh. Thus, the permission to slaughter animals for food was a temporary dispensation until a "brighter era" is reached when people would return to vegan diets. Furthermore, he states that the very language of the Torah’s permission to eat meat "in accordance with all the lust of your soul" is an implied reproach and a qualified allowance. He declares that the day will come when people will be morally revolted by the idea of eating the flesh of animals, and then it shall be said that "because your soul does not long to eat meat, you will not eat meat."
He explains the many laws and restrictions of kashrut, as an elaborate construct to keep alive a sense of reverence for life, with the aim of eventually leading people away from their meat-eating habit.
This idea of kashrut weaning people away from barbaric practices towards greater refinement is already expressed by the sages in Breshit Rabbah 44:1 and further developed by mediaeval commentators such as Rambam (Maimonides, Rabbi Isaac Arama, Rabbi Isaac Abarbanel and Rabbi Joseph Caspi.
Rabbi Solomon Efraim Lunschitz in his commentary on the Torah known as Kli Yakar, writes that the whole necessity for “the entire procedure of ritual slaughter is for the sake of self-discipline. It is far more appropriate for man not to eat meat; only if he has a strong desire for meat does the Torah permit it, and even this only after the trouble and inconvenience necessary to satisfy his desire. Perhaps because of the bother and annoyance of the whole procedure, he will be restrained from such a strong and uncontrollable desire for meat.”
Another great Orthodox rabbi and thinker of the 20th century, Rabbi J.B. Soloveitchik, wrote that “there is a distinct reluctance, almost an unwillingness, on the part of the Torah to grant man the privilege to consume meat. Man as an animal-eater is looked on askance by the Torah. There are definitive vegetarian tendencies in the Bible.”
Based on the aforementioned reference in Genesis 1:29 to the originally mandated vegan dietary regimen, Rabbi Soloveitchik explains that while humanity was initially meant to eat plant foods, people “acquired new drives and began to display new demands.”“Man-animal became life-killer, an animal-eater. He became bloodthirsty and flesh-hungry,” and “a (Divine)concession was made to (restrict) an evil drive.”
He adds that the Torah displays a dislike for meat eaters, and associates the strong desire for meat with ta’avah, “lust” and “illicit demand.”In summary, he declares that “while the Torah “tolerates (meat-eating), it is far from fully approving it.”
Even concerning korbanot, the offerings in the Temple, there were already those of our ancient sages who saw animal sacrifices as a concession.
In Vayikra Rabbah (22:8), Rabbi Pinchas in the name of Rabbi Levi comments on the verse in Leviticus 17:7 “and they shall no longer offer up their offerings to the demons to whom they have prostituted themselves…”. ‘The Holy One Blessed be He declared (that) in order that they may separate themselves and be delivered from idol worship, let them offer up their offerings to me at all times in the tent of Assembly.’ This midrash serves as the basis for aforementioned mediaeval authorities to describe the Temple offerings as a concession to a human need and even failing.
Similarly, Rabbi Shlomo Yitzhaki (Rashi) commenting on Isaiah 43:23, states that it was not the original Divine wish to be sacrificed to, but it was the Israelites' choice to do so, since other nations around them sacrificed to their gods.
Rambam (Maimonides) expounds this idea further explaining that as the Israelites lived among idolaters who served their gods through animal sacrifices, they would have found it unfathomable for such practices to be forbidden. Thus, some aspects of this form of worship with which the people were familiar were maintained but now directed as service to the Creator with the intent to gradually wean the Israelites away from idolatrous practices to the higher service of prayer and good deeds.
There are of course today many other Torah based imperatives for adopting a plant-based diet today – concerns for health, for combatting poverty and malnutrition in the world , and especially preserving our planet that is threatened by carnivorous lifestyles and the factory farming involved that does so much harm to our environment.
But for many of us the moral imperative is above all one of compassion that is so profoundly connected to Pesach and to Judaism as a whole. Indeed, our sages declare that true Jews are “compassionate ones the children of compassionate ones”, and even go so far as to indicate that if a person lacks compassion, we must doubt his or her Jewish prevenance.
Above all, as the Maharal (Rabbi Judah Loewe) of Prague writes “if we truly love God then we must truly love all His creatures and creation. If we do not love these, then we do not truly love God.”
Pesach of course is also the Spring festival celebrating the renewal of nature’s cycle that manifests the Divine creative presence in the world.
In keeping with the Maharal’s insight, if we truly love God and wish to be free to serve Him, then we must live with compassion and do our utmost to care for His creatures and His creation. This is the supreme message of the celebration of Pesach.