The Vegan Kiss of Joseph and Aseneth: In Hon. of Intl. Kissing Day. Dr. Chapman Chen

In a world too often governed by power, possession, and the shedding of innocent blood—both human and animal—true love must begin with mercy. Before it is passion, love must be peace. Before it is a kiss, it must be a covenant—one that does not demand suffering, but offers restoration.

On this International Kissing Day (July 6), we remember a kiss unlike any other—not born of lust or conquest, but of repentance and rebirth, from a mouth once fed by altars of death to one anointed with honey, not blood. It is the story of Joseph and Aseneth, whose love transcends not only cultural boundaries, but the very logic of a world addicted to domination—of women, of foreigners, and of animals.

Drawn briefly from the Hebrew Bible, and richly expanded in the ancient Jewish novella Joseph and Aseneth, this tale invites us to imagine what love might look like when it is wholly untainted by violence—even toward the smallest lamb.

Part I — The Biblical Foundation (Genesis 41)

“And Pharaoh gave Joseph the name Zaphenath-paneah and gave him Aseneth, daughter of Potiphera, priest of On, as his wife.” (Genesis 41:45)“And Aseneth bore him two sons, Manasseh and Ephraim.” (Genesis 41:50–52)

From the Bible we learn only that Joseph, the Hebrew exile turned Egyptian governor, was given Aseneth—a foreign priest’s daughter—as his wife. Their sons, Manasseh and Ephraim, would go on to lead two tribes of Israel. But the biblical text is silent on who Aseneth was, what she believed, or how she came to belong to Joseph’s spiritual world.

Part II — The Novella’s Expansion: Aseneth’s Conversion and the Kiss of Mercy

The ancient novella Joseph and Aseneth (1st century BCE – 2nd century CE, likely composed in Hellenistic Egypt) was written by a Jew troubled by that biblical silence. How could a man as holy and pure as Joseph—who resisted Pharaoh’s wife, who refused the food of Egypt, who worshipped the one God—marry a woman raised on idolatry and ritual slaughter?

The answer the novella gives is simple: love does not demand compromise of conscience. Instead, Aseneth must change.

When she first sees Joseph, she is struck not just by his beauty, but by the radiance of his soul. Yet Joseph refuses her:

“She eats the bread of idols and drinks the cup of abominations.” (Joseph and Aseneth, ch. 8–9)

Convicted by his holiness, Aseneth tears her fine garments, dons sackcloth, casts away her gods, and fasts and weeps in solitude for seven days. She rejects the killing culture of her upbringing and opens her heart to the God of life.

Then, in a vision, a heavenly angel appears. Around her descend bees—not to sting, but to bless. They place honeycomb on her lips, symbolising that she will now be nourished by the sweetness of peace, not the bitterness of blood.

“The bees swarmed around her and made honeycomb on her lips.” (Joseph and Aseneth, ch. 16)

Part III — The First Vegan Kiss: A Union Without Sacrifice

When Joseph returns, he sees her not as a pagan princess, but as a kindred soul—transfigured by compassion, radiant with repentance. He no longer hesitates.

They pray together, and then:

“He kissed her on the lips, and Aseneth received new breath in her soul.” (Joseph and Aseneth, ch. 19)

This is no ordinary kiss. It is a seal of a nonviolent covenant, a love that does not require the death of a goat, or the blood of a bird, or the burning of fat on stone. Their marriage feast, we are invited to imagine, was one of fruits and grains, of figs and pomegranates, of wine that flows without suffering.

Here, love is not built upon dominance, coercion, or bloodletting—but upon humility, equality, and life. Even animals, though silent in the story, are spared in the ethics it implies.

Part IV — The Covenant of Life and the Birth of a Gentle Lineage

Aseneth bears Manasseh and Ephraim, who go on to carry the Hebrew blessing forward. Their home becomes a garden of reconciliation—between nations, between lovers, between creation and Creator.

In a world saturated with sacrificial systems, Joseph and Aseneth form a partnership free of killing. Their kiss is not just physical—it is ethical, liturgical, renewing. A moment of lips touching, yes—but also of swords laid down, of idols shattered, of lambs left to live.

Full Text: https://www.vegantheology.net/post/the-vegan-kiss-of-joseph-and-aseneth-in-hon-of-intl-kissing-day-dr-chapman-chen