Dvar Torah Parsha Tzav 5783

Vayikra 6:1-8:36

This week our parsha is Tzav. The sacrifices were described in Vayikra, and now in Chapters 6-7 we learn of the rituals associated with those sacrifices. It also provides a glimpse into participation of sacred meals to the priests. These latter chapters are addressed directly to the priests rather than the people. For this reason, the order of offerings is switched beginning with the offerings of highest sanctity.

A bit of semantics here. The Hebrew word “Torah” is derived from to “Cast, shoot” an arrow for instance. It also means “to aim, direct forward” i.e., to show the way, instruct. Building on that, an interesting observation is that 6:2 begins with the Hebrew Torat, meaning “ritual of” as “Torah for.” The Babylonian Talmud, Menachot 110A suggests that study of Torah replaces animal sacrifice after the destruction of the second temple. More on that later.

In my mind’s eye, I visualize the sacrificial process. People are lined up with their animal or grain offerings. Bullocks mooing protests as those bringing them must keep them on tight leash lest they try to fight with each other. Sheep and goats offering their opinion as they make their way to the tent of meeting, and then in later generations, to the temple. Children playing as they move along, and a cacophony of human voices along the way. Most looking down lest they step where they would rather not. Then at the sacrificial site, the noise of fear by the animals as they approach their death. The smell of smoke and heaven knows what else is felt by all. The closest I could come to it all was my experience as a child when my dad would take cattle we had raised to market. The animals herded into the corrals, then the bidding, followed by directing them in many cases to the slaughterhouse. I’m rather horrified by that whole process now, but growing up in East Texas, that was just what we did.

Another side note here. In the Christian Bible, they speak of the money changers at the temple. What is left out however is… the rest of that story in my mind’s eye. Imagine if you would, having to lead those sacrificial animals from well north of Yerushalayim? Rather a market was set up providing sacrificial animals that could be purchased that met all the conditions for a good sacrifice. It would sure make that long journey much easier and more pleasant.

Why sacrifice animals? It’s easy for our 21st century selves to condemn this practice. The prophets often railed against it as well. In their case for a different reason. The issue was why someone made this sacrifice. Did they bring it to try to buy off Hashem or was it a true act of love. For example, per R. Yitz Greenberg at Hadar, after the destruction of the second temple according to Avot de-Rabbi Natan, a panicked student asked R. Yochanan how people could gain forgiveness now that they could not bring sacrificial offerings, R. Yochanan responded there is a more efficacious method to obtain forgiveness, the practice of chesed or loving kindness. To support his point, he cited Hosea 6:6 quoting Hashem, “I want covenantal love (chesed) and not sacrifices.”

So why animal sacrifices in the beginning. First, virtually every religion in the region used animal sacrifice. If that was what people of the time needed to show their love of Hashem, that was fine. In a world where countless gods in physical form were there to tempt the Israelites, we had the temple, the ritual, all to help give the people a focus for their love towards Hashem. Animals and grains were what they had to offer, of their own free will, to say thank you to the G_d who delivered them from Mitzrayim (Egypt) and who was with them all along the way, dwelling in the physical tabernacle.

Unlike many religions of the time, the Jews did not focus obsessively on sacrifices as some others did. Per Rabbi Jonathan Sacks of blessed memory, we found substitutes for sacrifices. First was gemilut chesed, acts of loving kindness. Second was Torah study. Third was prayer, and forth was teshuvah (repenting for the wrongs we do). Fifth was fasting and sixth was hospitality. Berakhot 55a says “As long as the temple stood, the alter atoned for Israel, but now a person’s table atones for him.” Rabbi Sacks goes on to suggest that the rabbis understood that sacrifices were symbolic enactments of processes of the mind heart, and deed that could be expressed in other ways as well.

Finally, why do we sacrifice? The short answer is, we love what we are willing to make sacrifices for. Rabbi Sacks again, “To love is to thank. To love is to want to bring an offering to the Beloved. To love is to give. Sacrifice is the choreography of love.” I deeply appreciate the wisdom of the Rabbis, who took the destruction of our temple and our dispersal throughout the middle east, Europe, and Africa, relying on the nature of sacrifice to weave a Judaism that is today as vibrant as it has ever been. Our sacrifices made a difference then and they do now. Our parsha described the beginning of religious expression and practice for a people, my people.

This parsha is read on Shabbat HaGadol, the Shabbat before Pesach, when we remember the liberation of and beginning of our people. Shabbat Shalom! Chag Paseach Sameach!

Dvar Torah Parsha Vayikra 5783

Vayikra 1:1 – 5:26

We now begin the book of Vayikra, or “He called” in Hebrew. At large they refer to it as Leviticus. It’s known formally as Torat Kohanim, “Instructions for the Priests.” In essence, per the commentary in Etz Chaim, it is a prescription for proper worship of the G_d of Israel. The first seven chapters of Vayikra (Leviticus) outline the Biblical sacrifice system, five of those seven which we will be looking at today.

In our parsha, we learn the laws of karbanot, the animal and meal offerings brought to the sanctuary. They are as follows per Chabad.org:

1.Olah, the ascending offering that is fully burnt and offered to Hashem atop the alter.

2.Minchah, five varieties of meal offerings prepared with flour, olive oil, and frankincense.

3.Zevach Shelamim, or peace offering, also known as an offering of well-being, where the meat was eaten by the one bringing the offering, after parts are burned on the alter and parts shared with the kohanim. Interesting sidenote: The meat for this offering must be consumed by the next day, encouraging the donor to invite others including the poor, lest it go to waste.

4.Chatat, brought to atone for accidental transgressions committed by the High Priest, the entire community, the king, or the ordinary Jew.

5.And finally, asham, the guilt offering brought by one who has appropriated property of the Sanctuary, who is in doubt whether they transgressed a divine prohibition, or who has committed a betrayal against Hashem by swearing falsely to defraud a fellow man. We are responsible, not only for the wrong we do, but the wrong done by not doing what we should. Also, restitution was necessary before the sacrifice.

Offerings must be free will, belonging to you and not stolen, without blemish, to express love for Hashem, NOT to impress the neighbors. Even as we begin our parsha, Etz Chaim points out that the wording begins in the singular, but soon shifts to plural. A Chasidic master (unnamed by Etz Chaim) taught that we enter the sanctuary as individuals, but the experience of worship leads us to transcend our separateness and become a part of community.

The Parsha speaks of the pleasing odor. Ibn Ezra, who lived in the 11th and 12th century CE, suggests that the gift of pleasing odor, rather than pleasing to Hashem, rather it is the prayers of the worshiper that pleases G_d as the sweet odor is to the human. Rashi, an 11th century commentator says what is pleasing to Hashem is not the aroma, rather that the people Israel are doing G_d’s will.

So it was not uncommon in Biblical times, indeed it was generally the rule in religions throughout the Near and Middle East to practice animal sacrifice. It remained the practice until the destruction of the second temple. After that, the Sanhedrin, led by Rabbi Gamaliel II, first decided the sacrifices could happen in a person’s home, but then reversed that, saying karbanot could no longer happen anywhere in the absence of a priest or a temple. But buried in all of this, per Cantor David Fair with the URJ, there is an answer. Korban, according to JPS is never translated as a sacrifice, rather as an offering. One such offering is prayer.

What does an offering entail? So, anyone who reads my dvars knows that I am a devoted follower of Rabbi Jonathan Sacks of blessed memory. He offers some interesting thoughts worth repeating here. He focuses on the words “happiness” and “meaning.” Happiness is mostly a matter of satisfying needs and wants. Meaning on the other hand is about how you feel in the present, and how you judge your life as a whole, past, present, and future. Happiness is associated with taking, meaning with giving. Vayikra, Rashi tells us, means being called to a task in love. Some are called to a vocation or life choice, not because the benefits are good, but for a higher calling. Such a call requires sacrifice but sacrifice gladly given. An offering if you please.

I believe each of us receive those calls to act on something outside of ourselves. It is ours to heed when we receive such a summon. It might be fixing a wrong, healing or comforting one who is sick, meeting a need, all ways that we are responding to a calling from Hashem, an invitation to offer of ourselves. We make sacrifices, sacrifices perhaps of time, money, a part of ourselves because we are summoned by that voice in our heart to do so. Again, from Rabbi Sacks in his book To Heal a Fractured World, “Where what we want to do meets what needs to be done, that is where G_d wants us to be.”

For me, I’ve grown old and require a wheelchair to do the work my legs once did. But there are still callings to be heeded. We each have things we can do. We Jews know the value of life. In his book, Man’s Search for Meaning, Victor Frankl who survived the death camps noticed those that lost the will to live, died. All while many discovered that those who found a meaning for their life, survived. “Life is a task”, he would say, but “the religious man differs from the apparently irreligious man only by experiencing his existence not simply as a task, but as a mission.”

From my perspective, happiness is nice, but it comes and goes. But meaning, a life’s mission is the heart, the soul of Be-ing. The essence of sacrifice said Rabbi Shneur Zalman, is that we offer ourselves. In a bygone era, that meant giving of your produce, animal, and vegetable to show love towards an entity higher than oneself. Today, we show that love through our gifts of time, money, labor, something of ourselves. And prayer, individually and communally. We each come into this world with a purpose, every one of us. We choose whether to answer that calling, but when we do, we gain meaning.

Baruch Hashem and L’Chaim.

Dvar Torah Parsha Veyakhel Pekudeh 5783

photo by Ofer Gellar

Shemot 35:1 – 38:19

This week we have two parsha’s rather than one. In Vayakhel, Moshe reminds the people not to do any work on Shabbat. The people Israel brings gifts of gold, silver, and materials to build the tabernacle where Hashem will reside. Ohaliab and Bezalel are named to receive the gifts and to lead in the building of the Sanctuary. It’s worthy of noting that Bezalel comes from the tribe Judah which is large and powerful while Ohaliab comes from the tribe Dan, the smallest of the tribal groups. A midrash talks about Bezalel, son of Uri, son of Hur. Hur, who earlier helped hold Moshe’s hand aloft in the battle against the Amalekites, had been killed trying to stop the making of the Golden Calf. Bezalel’s name derived from the Hebrew b’tzel el, meaning “In Hashem’s shadow” or “Hashem seen in shadow.” Thus, everyone will see in limited fashion, Hashem’s presence in the Tabernacle they were building. Everyone from the top down has a role in building the tabernacle and tent of meeting. Women provide fine tapestries and various other labors, and the men help supply, use their abilities in the creation of this new home for Hashem. One more mention regarding Oholiab, from Dan, the least of the tribes. Rashi says by putting him on the level with Bezalel, of Judah the most noble of tribes, it confirms what scripture says, (Job 34:19) “He regardeth not the rich more than the poor.”

In Pekudei, it begins with a tally of the metals used. The Tabernacle of the Pact symbolizes the focus of the covenant with Hashem. Aaron and the priests are given their clothing for work in the sanctuary. Upon completion of the tabernacle, Moshe is instructed to set up the Tent of Meeting on the first day of the first month. Moshe anoints Aaron and his sons to make it official. A cloud descends upon the Tent of Meeting and Hashem’s presence fills the Tabernacle. Moshe could not enter the tent because the cloud had settled upon it. When the cloud lifted, the people would set out, Over the tabernacle the cloud would rest until ready for them to move again. In the cloud, fire could be seen by the Israelites.

As Jews, we tend to be a communal bunch. We hear a lot of Moshe directing everything, but the actual work, instruction, skills brought to bear were by the people. I could not but reflect on the changes happening in my shul over the past year. Our lead rabbi left not too long after one of our associate rabbis had also left us. It all was a bit chaotic, but piece by piece, we organized, and committees were selected and a new rabbi brought in. Our own Rabbi Arielle after a year of thoughtful discussion and input from everyone did this week become our new lead rabbi. The joy felt was palpable. There is more to be done, but we are up to it.

Rabbi Nancy Wiener in a Dvar observes how the activities we normally deem holy, prayer, study, acts of loving kindness, all are traditionally done with or for others. Our prayers often begin with “anachnu” or “we” rather than “ani”, “I”. We traditionally study in partnership or “chavruta” in “fellowship.” Babylonian Talmud, Taanit 7A says, “As fire does not burn when isolated, so will the word of Torah not be preserved when studied by oneself.”

In the creation of this tabernacle, Moshe directs our attention, per Rabbi Jonathan Sacks of blessed memory the great centers of community in Judaism, one in space and the other in time. In our story, the one in space would be the Mishkan which subsequently became the Temple, and today is the Synagogue. The one in time is of course Shabbat. Ours is a religion of community. Our holiest prayers cannot be offered unless there is a minyan. On Yom Kippur, we pray for forgiveness not for only our sins, but those of the community. You know, living in an upstairs apartment with steep stairs, I don’t get out much. At heart I’m very much a community driven person but getting out is often simply too much. But in my own way, I find community. I volunteer with my caring committee, have regular chats via Zoom, and on those special days, a friend will come over to chat. Poor dears, isolation leads me to ramble on, but having real live people visit is such a joy. Community can serve either for good or for bad. I’m blest to be part of a community centered on good. We all, even this frail 75-year-old woman, can serve in some way to our kedhillah, that is loving community. Where we gather on Shabbat, either in person or via Zoom to connect, to pray, to be there for each other. So my message to my loving community, Shabbat Shalom and Baruch Hashem!!!

Dvar Torah Parsha Ki Tissa 5783

Shemot 30:11 – 34:35

I came out as gay, then later trans in a time when neither was accepted in Texas. I lived in a world when bashings were common. What I came to understand though was a quiet voice that resides within, and if I listen to it, I would be okay. So, when as a gay man, I might be walking down the street, holding my partner’s hand. There would come this quiet voice and I would let go of his hand. Further down, I would see the danger I might have faced. As I transitioned, the messages saved my life more than once.

I worked in public welfare and a man pulled a knife one day and held our security guard hostage until some of us came from behind and took the knife from him. We had a representative from Houston PD come speak to us. At one point he remarked, one thing they relied on, and all of us have the potential for it, is that quiet gut feeling that something is not right. My quiet voice was what he was talking about.

Parsha Ki Tissa has a lot going on. Hashem orders a census and says each person, rich or poor must donate a half shekel to finance the service in the sanctuary. He then lays out the importance of keeping Shabbat. Hashem engraves the stones. Moshe was there for forty days, and the people had become restless. Living their lives as slaves, they were accustomed to having a statue or object to pray too. Believing Moshe would not return, they go to Aaron, demanding he make a god for them. He creates a golden calf. Moshe begs Hashem after hearing about this to save the people, then goes back down the mountain. Furious, he smashed the tablets, burnt then pulverized the calf to dust then threw the dust into the water for the people to drink. Aaron tries to pass off blame, but he failed as a leader. Moshe goes back seeking atonement. He tells Hashem “If you cannot give the people forgiveness, then blot me out from your book which you have written.” Hashem says no, but he will remember the sin of the people and there will be a reckoning.

He sends Moshe to lead the people to the promised land. The Tent of meeting is set up tent of meeting outside of the camp and as Moshe enters, a pillar of cloud descends. He commands Moshe to ascend the mountain again, and bring two more tablets of stone and Hashem will inscribe these as he did before. Here Hashem says Moshe may not see his face, rather only his back. To see Hashem’s face is to die. He repeats the Torah commandments though unlike the decalogue, He begins with kindness rather than justice. Here were also what would become our 13 attributes recited during the High Holy Days and festivals. Each time Hashem speaks to Moshe, Moshe’s face is radiant. So, after Moshe shares what Hashem has said, he puts on a veil lest people become accustomed to the radiance and forget what Hashem has done.

Out of all that was shared in this parsha, my focus was drawn to the passage about not seeing the face of Hashem. Rather we see the gifts given as they are done. The real test of faith come’s when G_d is hidden. Unlike the Pagan deities, our G_d is not visible, but nevertheless seen in countless ways. This week we celebrated Purim and the miracle that occurred with Queen Esther. Megillah Esther doesn’t contain the name of Hashem. Rabbi Jonathan Sacks of blessed memory says according to the rabbis, the name Esther is an allusion to the phrase “haster astir et panai” that is I will surely hide my face. Rabbi Sacks goes on to say this stiff-necked people who during the Biblical period who were obstinate in their disbelief, went on to be obstinate in their belief going forward. He finishes his commentary with “Forgive them because they are a stiff-necked people,” said Moses, because the time will come when that stubbornness will not be a tragic failing but a noble and defiant loyalty. Historically this has proved to be true.

So, back to my stroll down the streets of my old Houston gayborhood, and many events since then. Where do those little messages come from? Science doesn’t provide any real clues. There are no clues from hearing,smell or sight, and yet as I traveled further, it became clear what danger I or we faced. The message came from within, but not from any action I might take. Where did Esther find her courage, her wisdom in dealing with the king and Haman, sufficient to save the Jewish people. Hashem is not seen anywhere in the Megillah, but Hashem is nevertheless present. Nor is Hashem seen in my strolls down Westheimer Dr, or on the streets of Minneapolis, and yet, Their presence is there. Baruch Hashem for the daily miracles large and small.

The 12th century tosafist Bekhor Shor said regarding “You will see my back.” “Be aware that this is strictly a metaphor; even the angels, as Ezek 1:6 explains, do not have backs. The expression implies: in such a way as not be able to fully comprehend, like a man who sees his friend from behind and not face to face.” When I hear that voice and respond, I am grateful to an old friend who though I don’t see Them physically, I feel nevertheless grateful for seeing the good that They have wrought.

Shabbat Shalom!