Parashat Shemini: The Pig of Return
What is the Connection between the Pig and Redemption?
Why is the Pig Considered the Most Unkosher Animal?
My father, who grew up in a kosher home, had an instinctive aversion to eating any form of pig – whether pork chops, ham, or bacon. That reaction is deeply familiar in Jewish life. Even among Jews who are not otherwise careful about kashrut, there is often a particular line in kashrut that they will not cross – namely, eating pork. Somehow, of all the forbidden foods, it has come to carry a unique sense of revulsion and taboo.
Many people assume that this is simply because the pig is seen as especially coarse, filthy, or repulsive. Yet objectively speaking, bacon or pork is no more forbidden than shellfish or cheeseburgers. Personally, I always felt more put off by slimy oysters, shrimp, lobster, and crab than by the pig itself. And yet, despite this, the pig has continued to evoke a uniquely strong sense of aversion.
This heightened aversion is not accidental. Already in Tanach, the pig is singled out, as the prophet Yeshayahu condemns “those who eat pork” (Yeshayahu 65:4). It seems that the pig represents something deeper than merely one more prohibited food. It has become the very face of what is spiritually unfit to consume.
Perhaps this is because the pig embodies a particularly dangerous kind of distortion. Unlike most non-kosher animals, it outwardly displays one of the kosher signs while inwardly lacking the other. In that sense, it represents not just impurity, but impurity masquerading as purity. And perhaps that is why the pig evokes such a powerful reaction: it reminds us that the most dangerous falsehood is not what looks obviously corrupt, but what presents itself as acceptable, refined, or even holy while concealing something deeply misaligned beneath the surface.
Why Does the Torah Single Out the Chazir (Pig) as the Ultimate Symbol of False Purity?
Of all the animals the Torah forbids in Parashat Shemini, the chazir is the most striking. Unlike the camel or the hare, the pig actually displays one of the kosher signs in a very visible way. It has split hooves:
ספר ויקרא פרק יא פסוק ז וְאֶת הַחֲזִיר כִּי מַפְרִיס פַּרְסָה הוּא וְשֹׁסַע שֶׁסַע פַּרְסָה וְהוּא גֵּרָה לֹא יִגָּר טָמֵא הוּא לָכֶם:
“But the pig, because it has a cloven hoof that is completely split, but does not chew its cud; it is impure for you” (Vayikra 11:7).
Outwardly, the pig looks as though it belongs among the pure animals. Yet inwardly, it lacks the deeper sign of chewing the cud. This sets the chazir apart from just another non-kosher animal. It becomes the Torah’s most vivid symbol of a split between outer appearance and inner reality.
This is precisely why Chazal connect the chazir with Edom and Esav, the forefather of Edom. The problem of Edom is not merely outward wickedness. It is that Edom often appears polished, elevated, and even morally refined, while inwardly remaining estranged from holiness. Tragically, history has shown how even the most outwardly refined civilizations can conceal the darkest corruption beneath the surface, as seen most horrifyingly in Germany, the very cradle of the Holocaust. Chazal, therefore, associate the chazir with Edom, a civilization that often presents the outward signs of legitimacy while lacking inner refinement. In this light, the pig stretching forth its split hoof as if to say, “See, I am pure,” becomes a fitting symbol for a culture that appears polished and elevated on the surface while concealing a deeper estrangement from holiness. The Torah is therefore teaching us a profound lesson in discernment: “not all that glitters is gold.” Appearances can be deceptive, and true worth is not always found in what shines most brightly on the surface. Sometimes the greatest spiritual danger lies specifically in what presents itself as holy.
Why is the Pig Most Closely Associated with Esav and Edom?
The deeper reason the chazir is associated with Esav is that Esav represents a world of external strength without inward surrender. He receives the blessings of abundance, physicality, and worldly power, yet he remains disconnected from the covenantal inner life that defines Ya’acov. In this sense, the pig and Esav mirror one another. Both possess something externally impressive, but both lack the inward quality that would make them truly aligned with holiness.
Rabbi Toviah ben Eliezer captures this idea vividly by describing the chazir as moving through the refuse heap and then sitting down to display its hooves. It flaunts its visible kosher sign while concealing its deeper deficiency, just as Esav’s descendants often cloak themselves in the appearance of morality or refinement while remaining spiritually corrupt (Chavatzalet HaSharon, Vayikra 11:7). Yet the Torah immediately exposes the deception: outward appearances cannot substitute for inner refinement (Pesikta Zutrata, Vayikra 11:7).
This is what makes the chazir such a fitting emblem of exile. Exile is not only a state in which holiness is attacked from the outside. It is also a state in which confusion reigns, where falsehood can wear the garments of truth and impurity can mimic the signs of purity. The pig does not only symbolize what is impure. It symbolizes what is deceptively impure – what looks fit for consumption but is not. This is one of the greatest spiritual challenges of galut (exile): learning how to distinguish between what merely resembles holiness and what truly nourishes the soul.
Why is the Chazir Called by a Name that Hints at Chazor (Return)?
The very name chazir contains an astonishing hint. Chazal connect it to the root לַחֲזוֹר/lachazor – “to return.” This opens one of the most fascinating and mysterious teachings in the entire world of kashrut: that the chazir, which is now forbidden, is somehow connected to a future return to kosher status. Rabbi Chayim ben Attar explains that the Torah’s wording leaves open the possibility that the pig’s present condition is not final. Right now, it is forbidden because “וְהוּא גֵרָה לֹא יִגָּר” – it does not chew its cud. But in the future, when its nature is rectified, it may indeed acquire the missing sign and thereby become permitted (Ohr HaChayim, Vayikra 11:3). What is so important in his approach is that this does not imply any change in Torah. The Torah remains eternal. What changes is the reality of the creature itself. The pig is forbidden because of what it is now, not because it is forever beyond repair. This same line of thought is developed by Rabbi Moshe Sofer, who explains that the Holy One, blessed be He, will not uproot even one mitzvah from the Torah, but rather that the nature of the chazir itself will one day become refined and purified (Chatam Sofer, Torat Moshe, Devarim 14:8).
How Could the Return of the Chazir Reflect the Future Redemption of the World?
The idea that the chazir may one day return invites a much deeper question. The issue is no longer only whether one particular animal might one day become kosher. The deeper question is: What does this ‘return’ really mean?
Perhaps the answer is that the chazir represents the most fractured dimension of creation – the split between outer sign and inner truth. Its return represents the rectification of broken reality during the final redemption. What does it teach us that even the animal most identified with impurity is somehow linked to future redemption? Rabbi Avraham Galanti, a kabbalist and disciple of Rabbi Moshe Cordovero explains that the return of the chazir alludes to the future sweetening of the klipot, when the forces that now operate through impurity and obstruction will no longer function in their present corrupted state, but will instead be restored to their holy root (Kinat Setarim, Eichah 1:21; 4:21). Rabbi Shlomo Alkabetz, best known for composing Lecha Dodi, links this teaching to the broader idea that even what now appears barren or external may one day bear fruit and become reintegrated into holiness (Shoresh Yishai, Ruth 4:12).
If even the chazir can one day be rectified, then redemption means much more than reward and punishment. It means that even the most distorted parts of the world are not beyond healing. The future redemption is not only the defeat of evil. It is also the rectification of broken reality. In that sense, the future return of the chazir reveals a deeper dimension within the nature of redemption. The animal that currently embodies contradiction, false display, and inward deficiency will one day become whole. Its outer sign and its inner reality will finally align. What now represents uncleanliness and deception may one day actually become kosher. The chazir thus emerges as a surprising source of hope: even that which is currently most out of sync with holiness may ultimately be transformed.
How Does the Chazir Reflect the Evolving Relationship between Israel and Edom?
When we place these teachings together, a larger picture begins to emerge. The relationship between Israel and Edom is not static. In the current state of history, Edom often appears powerful, dominant, and outwardly refined, while Israel carries the burden of inner truth without outer glory. But Chazal hint that this imbalance will not last forever. The Midrashic image of the chazir points not only to the danger of Edom, but also to its eventual reversal. As the Midrash explains, the return of the chazir refers to Edom returning the crown to its rightful owners (Midrash Vayikra Rabbah 13:5). We can also understand this concept from a more mystical perspective – as the eventual sweetening and rectification of the very forces that now oppose holiness (Kinat Setarim, Eichah 1:21; 4:21). Either way, the message is clear: what is now misaligned with Hashem’s truth will ultimately be transformed.
This gives the chazir an extraordinary role in the Torah. It is not only the clearest symbol of what must presently be rejected. It is also a sign of the future in which falsehood will be exposed, outer masks will fall away, and even the forces most opposed to holiness will either collapse or be transformed. The pig thus stands at the meeting point between discernment and redemption. On the one hand, the Torah teaches us not to consume what appears only to be pure. On the other hand, it hints that the final redemption will be so complete that even the deepest fractures within creation will one day return to their source.
