Meat-Eating and Spiritual Practice

The ongoing discussion at Philocrites’ blog about the UU response to animal abuse has spurred me into making the commitment to not eat factory farmed meat.

This was just the push I needed. I can’t claim ignorance to what happens to animals in our nation’s 'slaughterhouses', as my parents were telling me these things from the time I was in grade school. We did not eat very much meat when I was growing up for two reasons. First, our observance of Islamic dietary laws meant that we only ate meat that had been killed in God’s name*, and with mercy. Secondly, my mother did not think it was healthy to eat meat daily, and my parents had read works like Diet for a Better Planet and took some of those messages to heart. My mom had never been a big meat eater anyway, so it was easy for her, but even my father, a self-described “carnivore” was willing and able to dramatically reduce his consumption under my mother’s influence.

Ever since reading The Spiral Staircase, wherein Armstrong writes about the distinction between belief and practice in religion, I’ve been wondering what it would mean to re-adopt some Islamic traditions. In my very first blog entry here, I wrote that there were “many things I miss about my old faith.” I miss waking up early in the morning for the first prayer, for example. I miss structuring my day around prayer, even though I don’t pray very much anymore (only for my friends). I miss the discipline of fasting, too. I did it every year, and now not eating or drinking for a whole day seems practically impossible!

So I began to think, what would it look like if I resumed praying five times a day? To what place would I make pilgrimage? How could I fast as a spiritual practice? And so on. One of the ideas that sprang to mind was adhering to some of the dietary laws. Would I give up alcohol (which, admittedly, I don’t drink often)? How about meat that wasn’t kosher or halal?

With all this in mind, I read those comments at Philocrites and was very moved. I felt ashamed of myself for ignoring what my parents had tried to teach me. I knew well enough the horrors of the meat industry to only purchase fresh meat and eggs that are raised hormone free and free-range. And the one time I attempted to buy "regular" meat at the grocery store, I became physically ill. But I easily eat meat at restaurants and friends' homes with little thought.


Islam exhorts us to be mindful. For me, that mindfulness became distorted into constant fear of God and Death, and constant self-reproach. I’ve pretty much healed myself of those excesses, and now I want to be mindful again. Taking care with what I put into my body, and expressing compassion for the other animals on this earth is a good place to start.

From time to time I think of something told to me by a young adult within the continental community. He told me that before he eats, he always takes time to think about the food in front of him. Where did it come from. The people who might have grown it. The workers who picked it (he was a vegetarian), the drivers who transported it, the folks who cleaned it and sorted it, wrapped it or stored it, and lastly, the people who prepared it for him to eat. At the time I was impressed, but that seemed too time consuming for me! And who would I think about when I ate a Tootsie Roll? I don't even know what they're made of! Yet I was someone who had grown up saying a Muslim "grace" before meals. How quickly that practice was just dropped, wholesale! Looking at myself now and seeing how I’ll devour something before I even have a chance to think about what it is, nevermind where it came from – it seems perverse, really. If I might dare to sound like a sappy religionist, I would say that I’ve joined millions of other US Americans in counting calories and carbs instead of blessings.

This is a good opportunity for me to renew a spiritual practice in my life. When my non Muslim friends would ask me why I couldn’t eat this or that, I would tell them, “it helps me to remember that I am Muslim.” The prayers, the fasting, the ablutions, the restrictions, the hijab, the hundred “superstitions” – even my name – all of these served to reinforce, in every minute of my day, that I was a Muslim. What am I today? How do I remember my spiritual self in a way that is healthy, practical and respectful of other beings? These are the thoughts I am occupied with today. I will start with animals.

What I know I can do is this: eat only meat and eggs I know are from animals that were raised “cruelty free.” This likely means restricting my meat intake to what I purchase personally. And I will take care in buying only products not tested on animals or containing animal byproducts. I know I can do these things because I've done them before. But it will be a challenge. The hardest thing in the world, I fear, will be cheese. Am I ready to go practically vegan? Mmm. That is new territory for me, but I will truly offer my best.

This has been an exciting day!



*As usual, there is disagreement about what the Islamic dietary laws are. My parents adhered to a strict practice that included seeking out cheeses with no animal rennet, and purchasing only those skin care products that did not contain animal by-products.

(photos by HSA, 2005. Two llamas in Oregon. I nicknamed them Bunny and Boots. The second photo is just Boots.)