As Jews, we are called upon to recognize the inherent dignity of every human being, to care for one another and to relish the ability to experience pleasure. These three values fly in the face of a society that calls upon us to “other” those living in fat bodies and prioritize thinness at all costs. Anti-fat bias is rife within American culture and impacts folks living in both thin and fat bodies.
We derive from Jewish sources that our tradition holds fat bodies as sacred. How can we unlearn the harmful teachings society places upon us and move toward liberation for fat people — and therefore, for all people?
We know that this anti-fat bias is rooted in and indivisible from anti-Black racism (check out Sabrina Strings’ Fearing the Black Body and Da’Shaun L. Harrison’s Belly of the Beast for more information) and that such biases can be hard to identify without a trained eye. It would be impossible to responsibly address the complicated and interwoven histories of anti-Blackness and anti-fat bias in this piece; rather than do it poorly, we have chosen instead to focus on how we as Jews can ground ourselves in Jewish values which subvert anti-fat (and therefore anti-Black) rhetoric and which support fat liberation.
A core tenet of Judaism is our belief in the inherent dignity of every human being. Often expressed through the use of the phrase betzelem elohim (“in the image of God”), this value undergirds our understanding of the sanctity of all life and is often articulated as a driving force for the pursuit of social justice. The idea comes from Genesis 1:26, wherein the Divine One says, Na’aseh adam betzalmeinu, kidemuteinu — “Let us make Man in Our image, in Our likeness.” The text here is clear: Adam HaRishon, the first human, was made in the image of the Divine.
If we as Jews are called upon to recognize the Divine Image in every human being, we cannot ignore the Divinity present in fat bodies and fat people.
Each of us is made in the image of the Divine, full stop. And it is this image that we are explicitly forbidden to try and reproduce, as God famously says in the second commandment, “Lo ta’aseh lekha fesel vekhol temunah asher bashamayim[1] — You shall not make for yourself an image or likeness of that which is in the heavens.” To paraphrase the words of Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel, not only are we made in the image of God, we are the image of God. Nothing more, nothing less, than an entire human, can capture the brilliance of the Divine. If we as Jews are called upon to recognize the Divine Image in every human being, then we cannot ignore the Divinity present in fat bodies and fat people.
Beyond just seeing the Divine in each other, Jewish tradition asks us to care for one another. Leviticus 19:18 declares, Ve’ahavta lerei’akha kamokha — “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” There are no conditions on this; we are charged with loving our neighbors exactly as they are.
Genesis Rabbah,[2] a work of classical rabbinic midrash written around 400 C.E., tells us:
Rabbi Akiba says, You shall love your neighbor as yourself, is a great principle in the Torah. That you should not say, since I was insulted, another should be insulted with me; since I was cursed, another should be cursed with me. Rabbi Tankhuma said, if you did this, know Whom you are insulting: “In God’s image, God made him.”
From Rabbi Akiva and Rabbi Tankhuma, we can derive that the denigration of fat people harms not only fat people, but all people — and our Creator (God). Messages that prioritize the pursuit of thinness are not sent only to fat people; thin and midsized individuals alike are inundated with them, too. These messages tell us that being fat is the worst thing that can happen and that each individual must do everything they can to avoid such a fate. That kind of fear can lead to preoccupation with food and body image, even eating disorders. By prioritizing the value of loving one another as ourselves, we seek to interrupt the narrative that fat people and fat bodies are “less than” thin ones. As we love ourselves, we love each other. As we love each other, we love God.
There is often a notion that fat people aren’t entitled to love or pleasure (oneg) in the ways that thin people are. Virgie Tovar, fat activist, says, “Fatphobia can make you believe all kinds of things that are untrue and deeply harmful.” Jewish tradition can act as medicine in helping us to understand that pleasure is a part of the human experience and was intended to be so when we were created. Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel teaches us: “The reason that graven images are forbidden is not that God has no image, but rather. Because God has just one image: the image of every breathing and living human being.”[3] Rabbi Arthur Green elaborates:
Why are we forbidden to make images of God? It is not because God is beyond all images, so that no image could possibly depict God. If that were the case, images would merely be harmless. God has an image, and that is you. You may not make the image of God because you are the image of God. The only medium in which you can make God’s image is the medium of your entire life, and that is precisely what we are commanded to do. Everything you do, everything you say, each moment and the way you use it are all part of the way you build God’s image. To take anything less than a full, living human being — like canvas or a piece of marble — and call it the image of God would be to diminish God, to lessen God’s image.
Honoring God and building God’s image requires nothing less than the full experience of humanity, including pleasure. We’re encouraged — even commanded at times — to find pleasure in a Shabbat meal and to engage in consensual sexual relations with people we care about. This includes fat people. Fat people are entitled to pleasure.
Before we can come into meaningful community together, we all have to be comfortable sitting in the same room. Be sure to provide sturdy, armless chairs.
Having said all of this, what can we do to ensure our communities are actively reflecting the values they espouse? What changes can we make to be more welcoming of people living in fat bodies? How can we carry this understanding as we move through the world? How can we dream of a world to come (Olam Haba) where all bodies belong?
It might be easiest to start with the concrete. Before we can come into meaningful community together, we all have to be comfortable sitting in the same room; be sure to provide sturdy, armless chairs, as Rabbi Minna Bromberg of Fat Torah talks about in her webinars. Once you’ve created an accessible space, open up the conversation. What needs are not being met? What community norms are being set? Which voices aren’t being heard? As you notice elements of anti-fat bias in your community, name them. Consider asking people not to comment on your plate, on your body, on your appearance. Model loving yourself as you love others. Remember that anti-fat bias is insidious and that unlearning it takes time. Commit to listening to fat people and taking their concerns seriously.
We can work together to create a culture in which we live more deeply into our Jewish values by seeing everyone as made in the image of the Divine, loving ourselves and one another, and affirming the right for everyone to experience pleasure.
ember wilson (all pronouns) is in her first year at RRC, they are Trans, fat, disabled, white, Ashkenazi. ember is in collaboration with his ancestors on a path toward healing and liberation.
Emma Fischer (she/her) is in her fourth of six years at RRC. Queer, fat and Ashkenazi, Emma is originally from Nashville, Tenn., and now lives in the Philadelphia neighborhood of Manayunk, Pa.
Adina Ikeman (she/her) is a first year student at RRC. She is white, Ashkenazi, straight-sized and cis-gender.
[1] Exodus 20:4
[2] https://www.sefaria.org/Bereshit_Rabbah.24.7?lang=bi
[3] A.J. Heschel, Man’s Quest for God: Studies in Prayer and Symbolism (1954).
