Parshat Shemini; Leviticus 9:1-11:47

The portion begins with the first official offerings by Aaron and his sons. The Tabernacle had been dedicated with a week’s worth of inaugural celebrations. Each of the days’ sacrifices during the inauguration was does by Moses. But on the eighth day—it was finally time for the Priesthood to take charge and do as God commanded. This was the official beginning of the priestly duties. Aaron made atonement for himself as well as for the people and he offered a special blessing to the people of Israel. God’s Divine Glory appeared as a result of the correct formula of sacrifice and blessing. And a Heavenly Fire consumes the offering made by Aaron.

But shortly thereafter the Torah relates that two of the sons of Aaron, Nadav and Abihu offered their own offering. “They put a fire in their fire pans… and brought before God an alien fire (10:1)…” This offering brings a fire from God —but a fire that consumes Nadav and Abihu. Something goes terribly wrong. Tradition teaches that the Heavenly fire entered their nostrils and burned out their souls but did not burn or affect their clothing or bodies. God did not command the incense offering brought by Aaron’s sons.
Were they challenging their father and Moses by offering their own concoction? Were they merely goofing around in the tabernacle and not giving the proper honor and sanctity to the sacred, holy space and sacred, holy service?

Next to this story is an injunction against drinking wine when one comes to the Tent of Meeting. It specifically mentions that intoxicating wine keeps one from distinguishing between the sacred and the profane. Commentators throughout the generations have used the proximity of these two sections of Torah text to explain Nadav and Abihu’s behavior—that they must have been drunk when they offered their “Strange” fire. And this is of course why God makes an example of them with such a harsh punishment as death?

The 18th century commetator Ohr Hachayim suggests the opposite—that Nadav and Abihu were actually exemplary priests with a particularly close and passionate relationship to the Divine. The fire they offered was the fire of longing to be close to God and this was the fire that consumed them. They got caught up in their passion and devotion to God. Perhaps the text is trying to teach us that this too—blind devotion, is not what God wants of us. Moses says to Aaron, “God will be sanctified by those who are nearest Me (10:3).” Implying that Nadav and Abihu are indeed near to God.

The torah makes it clear that the job of the priesthood in particular is to make clear between the holy and profane, pure and impure and to teach the Children of Israel the difference. This story of Nadav and Abihu perhaps teaches us that not everything we decide on our own to offer up to God is proper or appropriate. Indeed perhaps there are some cosmic rules, mitzvot even—commandments even that are the requirements for proper worship of God. Thus we are left with a puzzling moment, Aaron’s silence in the face of his children’s death and Nadav and Abihu’s devotion to God but inappropriate offering that brings about their death. Is it a Divine irony?

Perhaps our lesson in all of this is for each of us to examine the offering that we make ourselves to God. Perhaps we should be devoted to doing the Divine Will, but not doing so with our own devices. As Nadav and Abihu put their personal devotion ahead of the communal sacrificial order, perhaps we too ought to reinvest in a sense of communal prayer and commitment even in a society that continually emphasizes the individual. Perhaps this is our Jewish challenge to maintain the communal distinctions even as the needs of the individual come into play.

Parshat Tzav; Leviticus 6:1-8:36

This second portion read from the book of Leviticus continues with a description in detail of additional sacrifices. This week the Torah continues to review the requirements of a burnt offering (olah), a grain offering (mincha) a sin offering (chatat), a guilt offering (asham), and peace offering (shelamim). It details the way in which the offering is made and the exact details of the priests duties.

The first of the services of the day where called Terumat HaDeshen –separating the ash. The fire on the altar had to be kept going all the time. It was a perpetual fire. And the priest’s first duty in the morning was to sift through the ash separating the remnants of the offering from embers of the fire. The priest then had to remove the ash, place it next to the Altar then change out of his sacred vestments to remove the holy ash outside the encampment. Then upon his return he would place two logs of wood on the main altar to stoke the fire and begin the days sacrifices.

These minute details of the seemingly mundane are anything but. This work of fire building and sacrifices is sacred work to the priests and to the people Israel. Those ashes are not just dust, but the residue of a sacred offering that absolved one of guilt or sin. These ashes are the remains of repentance and thanks to God. And the fire on the altar is the instrument that lifts up our sin or our guilt for expiation.

And so the Torah text offers in great detail the means of keeping the flame alive.

While today we have no sacrifices, we too could practice terumat HaDeshen—a ceremony of separating the ash. Each morning upon our rising, in our own daily prayer, which is our offering, we might also separate the ash of yesterday’s failings. By examining and cleaning out our own dust and grime, we might uncover and reveal the ember of our own humanity. The grime of daily interactions—the screaming we did at the driver who cut us off, the impatient flare of anger at our partner who forgot to pick-up the dry cleaning, the brusque manner that we exhibited to the store clerk who dallied talking on the phone in stead of ringing up our order. Each morning, like the High Priests of old, we ought attend to the fires burning in our own souls—the fire of hope, the fire of passion, the fire of humility, the fire of holiness, the fire of faith. If we tended it as well as the High Priests tended the fire on the altar of the Tabernacle, fewer of us would feel as lost and aimless as we do. We would have a sense of self, and of place, of connection and relationship in the world. We would come to know our selves and most importantly, we might even come to know God!

As any chimney sweep or Cinderella will tell you, cleaning out ashes is not glamorous work. It is dirty and dusty and it makes you cough. Your clothing is smudged and soot gets in your nose and hair. But it is essential work. It is work that must be done to be able to build a fire and to keep it going. This is the work High Priests were commanded to do, and in truth we should as well. But our flame, our altar is within. We need to give it the same loving care to keep the fire of our faith alive. It must be tended to—otherwise our cynicism and skepticism, and anger take over.

I hope you will rise each day tending to your soul as the High Priests tended to the flame on the altar. You will be glad that you opened yourself and you will find that is indeed the dwelling place of the Divine.

Vayikra, Leviticus 1:1- 5:26 by Rabbi Denise Eger

We begin a new book of the Torah this week—the book of Leviticus. Leviticus is very different than the book of Exodus, which we just finished. The book of Leviticus is written as the voice of God telling the Israelites the rules of sacrifice, and the rules and regulations of living a holy life—holy to God. The book of Leviticus includes not only the laws as they build the Israelites relationship to the Divine, but the laws as they build relationship to other human beings both fellow members of the Israelite community and non-members. There is almost no narrative in this book of the Torah. Fittingly, this opening parasha—Vayikra –also the Hebrew name of the book of Leviticus—is “God called.” Leviticus is God’s calling out to Moses these mitzvot, these commandments and God’s calling out to the Children of Israel.

Thus our portion delves right in to a description of several kinds of sacrifice. The description and building of the Tabernacle were described in Exodus. Now in Leviticus, we have the description of exactly what kinds of sacrifice will take place there and how those offerings are to be made. We learn of the animal sacrifices, the grain offerings of varying kinds, of first fruits of the harvest, of peace or well-being offerings, and sin offerings and guilt offerings.

Chapters four and five of Leviticus focus specifically on the different layers of those whose sin: Sin by mistake whether, priest, the entire community, a leader or an individual. These are different than sins committed deliberately. In each of the above cases—whether by priest, or individual, by entire community or leader—atonement can indeed be made through the sacrifices brought. But each must first acknowledge and confess the sin. Then in each case hands are placed on the offering—seemingly transferring the sin from the individual or group to the animal and then through the sacrifice and burning of the animal—the odor—pleasing to God—expiates the sin.

Today we no longer transfer our sins to animal sacrifices. But we still must find ways to confess and to atone for our errors and mistakes, our sins of omission and commission. While most Jews are familiar with our annual day of confession and atonement—Yom Kippur, the Jew does not need to wait and save up a year’s worth of sin and guilt to confess to God. Rather each day in the daily worship service is a prayer that asks God, to forgive us and expiate our sin. In the Amidah, one of the 18 benedictions does just that.

“ Help us to return our Maker to Your Torah; draw us near, O Sovereign God to Your service and bring us back to Your presence in perfect Repentance. Blessed is Adonai who calls for repentance. (GOP p. 63)”

This is followed immediately by a prayer for forgiveness: “Forgive us, our Creator, when we have sinned; pardon us, our Sovereign, when we transgress; for You are a forgiving God. Blessed is Adonai, the gracious God, whose forgiveness is abundant (GOP, p. 63).”

Each day we have an opportunity to confess our sins, ask for pardon and forgiveness and offer the sacrifices of our hearts. For our ancestors the sweet smell of the sacrifice as it rose to God helped to bring about their healing and repentance. For us it should be the sweet sound of our daily confession and the rising tide of personal responsibility for our actions. These are today the ways in which we offer up our sacrifices to God. May we live with integrity in our words and deeds even as we offer up the sacrifices of our hearts.

Pekude; Exodus 38:21-40:37 by Rabbi Denise L. Eger

This portion, the final in the book of Exodus, begins with an inventory of the materials and specifically the metals utilized in the Tabernacle. If we add up the amounts stated in the portion, there is an impressive amount of metals used. The gold, silver, brass or copper was a lot for a group that had been enslaved in Egypt. This shows how important the centrality of the Tabernacle was to the Israelites. They lavished the most precious of gifts upon God’s home in the desert as a tribute to the covenant that they had made at Mt. Sinai. The account continues with the description the priests’ vestments, and the other priestly accoutrements such as the ephod, breastplate, and crown made of gold and inscribed Holy To Adonai.

From verse 33-42 is a repeat of that found in Chapter 35 beginning in verse 10. All of the various pieces of the tabernacle are finished and brought before Moses. When the work is completed Moses offers the craftsmen and workers a blessing. While we do not have the words of the blessing recorded in the portion, tradition teaches (Rashi, and in Baba Bathra 14b) that Moses composed Psalm 90 for the occasion. Psalm 90 refers to the fragility of human life and Moses asks God to help humanity use our time productively. The Psalm, often read at a funeral, reminds us all to, “number our days so that we shall receive a heart of wisdom.” It concludes with the line, “ May the graciousness of Adonai our God, be upon us; You establish also upon us the work of our hands; Yea, the work of our hands establish it.”

If indeed this is the blessing given by Moses to the artisans and craftspeople, we can see that this blessing is a reminder to those involved in such holy work, that it was not their own genius or gifts alone that built the Tabernacle—but only with the inspiration and direction of God did such handiwork come to fruition.

The portion concludes with setting up of the Tabernacle and its dedication in the first month of the second year on the first day of the month. This would be a way to dedicate the tabernacle on Rosh Hashanah, the day of creation of the world and now a creation of the world in miniature through the erection of the holy precincts of the tabernacle. The verses record that Moses one the one who did the actual finishing touches of putting the tabernacle together and placing both sets of the Ten Commandments in ark, the broken pieces of the first set as well as the second intact set.

Finally the text concludes that God’s cloud of Glory descended upon the entire Sanctuary in the desert. For the tabernacle is just a tent until God takes up residence. And as the words of Exodus ends, God’s holy presence is secure among the Israelites, dwelling in their midst throughout their journey. As the closing words states, “For the could of Adonai was upon the tabernacle by day, and there was fire therein by night, in the sight of all the house of Israel, throughout all their journeys.”

The Children of Israel were able to tell when God’s Divine Presence was in their midst. But for us today, it is not always so easy. We have no Temple in Jerusalem that became the permanent home after the tabernacle in the desert. Our challenge is utilizing, prayer, and ritual, study and social justice to bring God’s holy presence into our lives. We do that in our communities, in our synagogues in relationship to one another. We Jews can’t be disconnected from each other—for when we are we cannot connect to that Divine presence. When we isolate from one another, or run away from our Jewish self—we only run further from God’s Divine Presence. The challenge in our times is to continue to seek out God’s Divine Presence and to create those moments for God’s cloud of Glory to dwell once again in our midst. Are we up to the challenge?

Vayakhel; Exodus 35:1-38:20 by Rabbi Denise L. Eger

This week’s Parasha reviews the instructions to build the Tabernacle. It enumerates again just as the past three-week’s portions have done, the details of the design and the intricacies of building the very dwelling place of God.

The portion begins however, with an admonishment to observe Shabbat. “Moses assembled the entire congregation of the Children and Israel and said to them… On six days work may be done but the seventh day shall be holy for you” (Ex. 35:1-2). Curious enough since the rest of the portion is filled with descriptions of the design and the materials used to build everything from the outer walls, to the carrying poles to the holy utensils used in the sacrificial rituals such as the laver, altar, menorah, and ark itself.

But as we learned in Parshat Terumah and this portion reinforces this notion, that everyone who is filled with the spirit of wisdom and craftsmanship will be involved in the actual building of the tabernacle. Everyone who’s heart moves him/her will bring gifts for the tabernacle and those whose are filled with Divine inspiration will be involved in the actual execution of the holy design. They will be under the direction of Bezalel and his assistant Oholiab. But the craftsmen will be “every wise-hearted man whose heart God has endowed with wisdom, everyone whose heart inspired him to approach the work to do it (Ex. 36:2). Clearly, those who had the dedication and knowledge and skill for such execution and design would be involved in this crucial community task and especially those who were Divinely inspired. This enthusiasm and this dedication to the task of building the holy tabernacle could lead to an obsessive and passionate desire to focus all attention and effort on the execution of the Divine plan to the exclusion of all else. Their zealous commitment to the details of the plan for the building of the tabernacle might cause them to disregard the mitzvot in a day-to-day fashion. How often do we hear of stories of the inspired artist or writer who works feverishly around the clock without interruption on a painting or story?

The engineers and artisans who will build the sanctuary as well as the the Children of Israel must be reminded that the Divine dwelling space must not be built in violation of any of the Divine commands. Thus Moses reminds the entire assembly of the Children of Israel of the central idea of Shabbat rest and refraining from work—even holy work at the outset of this portion.

And in our world that goes non-stop 24/7 it is comes as a good reminder, an ancient reminder that we human beings are not made to go at such a pace. God created us in the Divine image and even God needed a day of rest from that work. How much the more so each one of us. So take a Sabbath from email and Internet. Turn off your cell phone for 24 hours at Friday sundown until Saturday sundown. We can at least do what God did—and take a rest. Disconnect from the pace but in turn you will see that it might even connect you to God!