The Reward of Participation - Parasha Tzav, Shabbat HaGadol, Leviticus 6:1-8:36, Malachi 3:4-24

When I pray the Shema I cover my eyes, I focus and say the prayer as meaningfully as possible, a tradition that was birthed in the Talmud (Berachot 13b) before being codified as halakha, Jewish Law (Shulchan Arukh, OH 61:4-5).  For me I aspire to connect with the prayer, block everything out, being one with those six words in Hebrew, Shema Yisrael Adonai Elohaynu Adonai Echad, “Hear O Israel the Lord our God the Lord is one.”  As I am in touch with that moment I focus on what it means to be one with God, one with other people, one with my fellow Jews, one with nature, one with the rhythm of my day, one in body, mind, soul and spirit.  It makes sense to talk about the Shema since we know sacrifices are continued vis-à-vis our prayers.  But what we are also going to see is that in our continued reading about the sacrifices, like with the Shema, they are realized only by human involvement, a participation that leads to a reward.
 
This week’s parasha, Tzav, like Vayikra, concerns itself with the same five sacrifices we spoke of last week, but there are noteworthy differences as well. The order is slightly different, as well as the Hebrew, which surely has to do with editors.  Tzav does not give reasons of voluntary or obligatory or is as detailed.  We also read in Tzav the concern was not how to prepare the Minchah offering (compare Lev. 2:4-7 with 6:14) but more so that Aaron and his sons offered it in the right way.  In fact that is really what sets Vayikra and Tzav apart; the former is more focused on the details of the sacrifices and the role of the Kohenim as officiants whereas the latter is concerned about the role and the rites of the Kohenim as they relate to the sacrifices.  So in Vayikra we are told that the Kohenim were the ones who would slaughter the sacrifices, place them upon the alter and carry out the ritual details, further learning this week that they were also to remove the ashes from the camp.  Here in Tzav the concern is that they dress the right way (6:3), eat their portion in the right place (6:9) and recognize the holiness of the moment (6:11).  In Vayikra it was about the how of the details whereas in Tzav it was about the why that surrounded the holiness of the sacrifices.
  
We also learn here in Tzav that the Minchah offering would be used for the ordination of the Kohenim above the others. Why the Minchah offering for the priests anointing?   There is an interesting interpretation of this question found in the Zohar, the Bible of the mystics if you will, that juxtaposes Lev. 6:12 and 7:35 to offer an answer to our question.  It says in 6:12 that “this is the offering of Aaron and his sons …” and albeit slightly different it says in 7:35 “this is consecrated portions …”  Here the word “this” is both zeh and zot in Hebrew, grammatically masculine and famine respectively.  Now while it is because of the syntax and other surrounding words in each section, the word “this” in its masculine and famine form speaks of Aaron's, the High Priest, masculine and famine qualities that made it possible for him to harmonize opposite forces, brining good tidings of peace to all in the same way that the diversity of the people came together to build the Mishkan (Rabbi Ellie Munk).  The Kohenim were to be a solidifying force for the people and appreciate, hence the Minchah offering, the depth of their purpose regarding their role in the community Israel.  But it was so much more than that.
 
It says in Leviticus 7:11 that the Priests and the Priests alone were to consume the holiness of the Minchah offering, but only by touching it, did they become Holy.  Was the Minchah magical that if they ate they were holy?   According to Rashi, the Kohenim became holy not just because they touched it but because they absorbed it.  In some cases as we’ll shall see later in Leviticus contamination comes from mere touching, but not in this case according to Rashi and other Sages before him (Also see Zevachim 97b).  It is also very clear, however, that the Minchah sacrifice alone was empty unless it was consumed by the Kohen and not just merely done.  We see this in our Haftarah reading, this week being Shabbat HaGadol before Pesach we read from Malachi 3, where it is about the justice of Israel’s sacrifices and just not the motions, as we also read in Isaiah 1.  Likewise, the Kohen just did not lay his hands on the head of the offering as we read in Vayikra (1:4), but absorbed it into his body, and therefore his spirit, here in Tzav (6:11), becoming one with the sacrifice and the people at the same time.
 
When we pray the Shema we are supposed to become one with the prayer.  We cover our eyes as a way of concentration, a way to focus on its meaning and purpose, we cover our eyes to absorb that prayer into our mind and heart just like the Kohenim absorbed the Minchah offering into their physical body and became holy.  Prayer is a mirror that changes us by allowing us to see the world differently, changing us from the inside out because we absorbed the prayers meaning and sought to be one with its message. Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel taught that we became holy not just because God is holy but because God become our partner when we pray, and that is exactly what happened with sacrifices and why they made Aaron and his sons holy when they absorbed them.  We should think about that at our Seders next week when we consume the Maror and Matzot. 
          
Shabbat Shalom and Chag Pesach Sameach,
Rabbi Adam 

An Understanding of Sacrifices Today - Parasha Vayikra, Leviticus 1:1-5:26, Isaiah 43:21-44:23

While Genesis tells the story of the family of Adam and the family of Abraham, the progenitors of the Jewish people, Exodus is the incipient story about the family of Israel who are a people of humble beginnings that become partners with God to bring goodness to the world.  Leviticus, the third book of Torah, tells a different story, a story of Priestly concerns about the behavioral communal norms for these people with concepts such as Tahor and Tamai (pure and impure), touching on themes like sanctification, purification and consumption seen in the Kosher Laws, interpersonal relationships or the Holy Days, defining a “kingdom of priests” to be holy as they perceived God to be.  This week we look at the first parasha of this book, called Vayikra that talks about Zevachim, or ritual sacrifices then and what they could mean today.

There are three initial thoughts that come to mind with sacrifices. First, while there is great detail concerning the particulars of the sacrifices themselves, which have depths of meaning that are worth exploring, here it is about their nature.  The practice of sacrifice itself given our modern sensibilities is barbaric and cruel, yet at the same time it must be understood within the cultural norms of worship practices that were for them “dignified, meaningful and uplifting” (W. Gunther Plaut).  Second, what would people do with no more capability to offer sacrifices?  In the Haftorah (Is. 43:21-44:23) we read of God’s dismay that Israel had not brought their “sheep for burnt offerings nor honored God with your sacrifices,” creating a challenge for the people after the destruction of the Temple.  In a well-known Midrash (Avot d'Rabbi Natan 4:17-18) we read a story about Rabbi Yohanan Ben Zakkai who is consoling one of his disciples as he morns the inability to offer sacrifices any longer, the Rabbi applying the words of the Prophet Hosea to his student that God now desires "mercy and not sacrifice" as things have changed. The Talmud (Berachot 6b) further clarifies that change to be our prayers that are the new offering of the heart just as the sacrifices were before the Temples destruction.  And third, the continued study of Temple sacrifices daily. During weekday shacharit (morning prayers) in a Traditional/Orthodox siddur before getting to the Baruch Shemar (Nissim Shel HaYom in the Reform siddur) it is customary to read several Biblical and Rabbinic passages about the Temple sacrifices, bringing upon the reader much zechut, or merit, as if they were offering sacrifices upon the alter of the Temple itself. This is why Rabbi Aryeh Kaplan taught that by learning about sacrifices a Jew would “be able to understand and appreciate it” in order to make their own prayers more meaningful.

What of the sacrifices themselves?  In approaching a sense of the Holy, or God, the people are asked to do so via the five sacrifices listed in this parasha. The first three offerings are voluntary; they are the Olah (burnt) offering of thanksgiving, the Minchah (meal) offering of appreciation and the Sh’lamim (well-being) offering of wellness of mind and spirit. The last two are obligatory; the chatat (sin) and the asham (guilt) offerings as all people will do unintentional wrongs as well as intentional sins in connection to the mitzvat Adonai, commandants of God (Lev. 4:2 and 5:17).  We might ask why the initial sacrifices were not compulsory since they support the human mind, body, soul and spirit regarding how one sees and experiences the world around them.  While the last two were mandatory because people are imperfect the initial three were about free-will, allowing each person to chose if they want peace of mind and spirit (Sh’lamim) by being thankful (Olah) and appreciative (Minchah), as opposed to disappointed and ungrateful, in how they live daily life.  In the same we get to chose to be thankful by offering the prayer of Modeh Ani upon waking or by embracing all our of blessings when offering the daily prayer for gratitude that thanks God “who provided me with all my needs, albeit it times of good or bad, seeking peace of mind and spirit by praying the words of Sim Shalom that asks for peace everyday.  But sacrifices were much more than giving thanks, they also touch on the flawed human condition.

The obligatory chatat and asham offerings are the foundation of the daily Tachanun prayer of repentance as well as the Al Chait that we recite on Yom Kippur as we pound our chests and ask for forgiveness from the sin of “unclean lips,” just to name one.  Words of lies, hate or slander, called lashon hara, in Judaism are compared to murder, impacting the person speaking, the person being spoken about and the person who is listening (Talmud, Arachin 15b).  In our realization of the damage we may have caused from unthoughtful words, illuminated by the Divine image within, our better selves seek consolation for our actions, hence the sacrifice of prayer reminds us that we need to make amends to those we have wronged (bein adam lachaveiro) as well as with God (bein adam lamakom) just as the chatat and asham offerings did in the days of old.  But in general why a fixed ritual of prayers?  In a time when we call ourselves spiritual as opposed to religious or prefer spontaneous prayers as opposed to prayers that are prescribed, and by the way this is not an either/or but a both/and, there is something about ritual that our neshamot (souls) respond to.  When we hear the prayers over the candles on Friday night or the emotions of hearing the Kaddish at a funeral we recognize that prayers have relevance to our lives that can touch the deepest parts of the human soul.

Final thought. Sacrifices of prayer are more than just a daily checking in, or reconnecting with God, but are a self-assessment of one’s own spiritual condition. We therefore read in the Mishnah from Pirkei Avot 3:1 that as people we are “destined to give an account and a reckoning,” most importantly for ourselves, allowing our prayers to help us by examining our attitudes of being thankful while at the same surveying the short comings of our own humanity.  However you understand the future of sacrifices is another matter, but today’s sacrifices of prayer are meant to awaken the recognition of the holy and good in our lives just as the sacrifices of Leviticus were meant to do in the days of the Beit Hamikdash, or in the holy Temple.

Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Adam 

 

Sacred Time, Sacred Space - Parasha Vayakhel and Pekudei, Parashat HaChodesh, Exodus 35:1-40:38, Ezekiel 45:16-46:18 and Exodus 12:1-20

The initial words of Moses where he recalls the need to keep the Shabbat in this parasha, Vayakhel-Pekudei, repeats what happened after the Golden Calf.  In this case looking to get the people back on track Moses instructs them to keep three Holy Days; Pesach (Ex. 32:18 - remember the liberty from Egypt and their gods), Shavuot (Ex. 32:22 - the giving of the Torah to guide the people) and the Shabbat (32:12 - A day of communal rest and reflection from oppression and forced labor).  We do this weekly with the Shabbat Kiddush, reflecting on the obligation of the week (Egypt) with the freedom to rest on the Shabbat (from the obligation of the week), which is why we say zeicher lee’tzee’at Mitzraim, remembering the leaving of Egypt.  As such the Shabbat introduced the idea of sacred time into the world, whereas with the completion of the Mishkan this week at the conclusion of Exodus, the Jews who came out of Egypt were the first to encounter the idea of sacred space. Sacred time and sacred space coexisted for them yesterday and it does with us today. 

Parshiyot Vayakhel and Pekudei, the last two readings in Exodus that we combine in non-leap years, mainly looks at the execution, completion and inauguration of the Mishkan.  The beginning and the end are about the Shabbat and the presence of God that acts like a sandwich to hold together everything in between, such as the community and its values, the Mishkan, sacrifices, the Holy Ark, etc.  So in Vayakhel Moses taught that the first act of faithfulness was the keeping of the Shabbat by ceasing all work, which included lighting a fire (Ex. 35:1-3).  Let’s just say without getting into all the halakhot (Jewish Law) the reason behind not lighting a fire was not so much the fire but what was connected to it, such as the collecting of wood, arranging it, starting as well as maintaining it and so forth, something that took a lot of work; as Jews we might have different ideas of practice but the idea is the same, a day to rest, reflect and be refreshed from obligated normative work.  Shabbat was also a matter of perspective. Therefore we read in the Talmud (Shabbat 69b) that for Rabbi Huna since God’s final act of creation was the Shabbat on the seventh day it is at the end.  For Rabbi Chiyya b. Rav since humankind was formed on the sixth day the Shabbat was their first day.  So in Vayakhel the keeping of the Shabbat comes first while in Pekudei it is last, and as we shall see, although the mention of Shabbat is not explicit I think it is most certainly implied.

Toward the conclusion of Pekudei, after the Mishkan is now built and operational, it says in Exodus 40:33-34, “When Moses had finished the work, the cloud covered the Tent of Meeting, and the Presence of Adonai filled the Tabernacle.”  When “Moses had finished the work” is awfully similar to what we read in the creation narrative when “God finished the work,” it says in Genesis 2:2-3, “On the seventh day God finished the work that had been undertaken: [God] ceased on the seventh day from doing any of the work.  And God blessed the seventh day and declared it holy—having ceased on it from all the work of creation that God had done.”  In both cases the word “finished” (same Hebrew root) suggests a relationship between the Mishkan and the Shabbat itself.  We see this in a Midrash (Mekhilta d'Rabbi Yishmael 35:2:1-2) that says “since we are permitted to perform labor (i.e., the daily offering) in the Temple (on Sabbath), it should (also) be permitted outside the Temple. It is, therefore, written "(Sabbath) shall be holy for you," (labor being forbidden to you), but for the Lord (i.e., for sacrifice), it is ‘mundane.’"  Although all daily sacrifices for God were normal (mundane), for the Jews of the Temple times they were to differ on Shabbat, thus the work of the holy on Shabbat was different than the work of the mundane, or of normal weekdays.

The Shabbat was to remind them of God and the creation of the world that they were now responsible to maintain, whereas the Mishkan represented their partnership with God in building a place of light that stood in contrast to the darkness of the wilderness around them but also as a reminder of their freedom from the darkness of Egypt. While it is true that the vast majority of us do not know of such a slavery here in America, we too must be grateful for whatever darkness we emerged from, even if it was just a tough work week!  The point being that the Mishkan became a symbol of freedom, light and the presence of the God, thus the myth of Pekudei concludes with the words of Exodus 40:35-36 that says, “Moses could not enter the Tent of Meeting, because the cloud had settled upon it and the Presence of Adonai filled the Tabernacle. When the cloud lifted from the Tabernacle, the Israelites would set out.”  In the same way the Shabbat presence invited them to gather together on this unique day, in the sacred space of the Mishkan, with their families and friends to celebrate all that is good and holy before the daily tasks of the new week began once again.

If you recall when writing about parasha T’rumah I said that the Mishkan was more so a forerunner to our modern Synagogues and Temples rather than the precursor for the Beit Hamikdash, or the Temple that stood in Jerusalem.  So we are reminded of two things here. First, the Shabbat had a very important purpose; to separate the holy and the mundane, a time we can embrace to set aside the adventures and challenges of the week, the congregation being a part of the Shabbat experience.  Second, our congregations in particular function like the Mishkan, a space where the scared can be found, both inside and out. In the Mishnah (Sukkah 5:2-3) we read about the illumination of the fire during Sukkot so all, even those from far off, could see the glory of what the Temple stood for.  Our congregations must stand to better our world with all their signs, symbols, and internal structures to illuminate those around us, beginning with our own families and communities, being places of Tikkun Olam for those near and far, improving lives when and where the opportunities present themselves.  As we enter this new month of Nissan next week with the special Shabbat's of Passover on the horizon, we should recall that all our Shabbat's remind us of sacred time, whereas the Mishkan (our congregations and gatherings) remind us of sacred space; as people we need to value both.

Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Adam