The Validation of Hope – the Core of Jewish Survival

 

         Pessimism is a luxury that a Jew can never allow himself – Golda Meir

Tragedy, unfortunately, is part of everyone’s life. Some heartbreaking experiences are more profound than others. All, however, touch us in every aspect of our life.

This week’s Parashah, Shmini, recounts a tragedy that befell Aharon, Moshe’s brother. The story is a mingle of great joy, cloaked with holiness but at the same time eclipsed and shrouded with loss and grief.

 It is the first of the month of Nissan and the dawning of a new day. Moshe and Bnei Yisrael are preparing to mark a great milestone in our history. After seven days of preparations and training,  Aharon and his sons are ready to receive the scepter of Priesthood, and the Mishkan (Tabernacle) is ready to be inaugurated.  

On the Eight day (Shmini) as Bnei Yisrael are gathering for the long-awaited ceremony, Moshe tells them, “For today, the Lord will appear to you” (Vayikra 9:4). He invites Aharon and his sons to offer a sacrifice to G-d. Shortly thereafter, the celebrations reach a climax with the spectacular appearance of the glory of G-d as fire came forth “from before the Lord and consumed upon the altar the burnt offering and the fat; and when all the people saw it, they shouted, and fell on their faces (Vayikra 9:24).

This spectacle full of reverence, bursting with holiness and ecstasy turns, in a flash, into a catastrophe. Without any warning “there came forth fire from before the Lord, and devoured” Avihu and Nadav, the sons of Aharon (10:2). G-d, it turns out, thy “offered unauthorized fire before the Lord, contrary to His demand” (10:1).

How does one respond to such a tragedy?

Moshe speaks first. “This is what the Lord spoke of when he said: ‘Among those who approach me, I will be proved holy; in sight of all the people I will be honoured’” (10:3). Rashi bases his interpretation of this verse on Midrash. According to him, “Moshe says to Aharon, ‘Aharon, my brother, I knew that the Mishkan will be sanctified by the presence of those who are close to G-d. I assumed that he meant either you or me; now I see that they (Nadav and Avihu) are greater than me and you.” In other words, the holier a person is, the greater are G-d’s exigencies of him.

Aharon remains silent. He is not complaining. He is not lamenting his bad fortune. His silence, in my view, reflects inner strength and the ability to confront difficult and painful realities.

Moshe moves on. He orders the removal of the bodies and briefs Aharon and his remaining sons about the laws of mourning. He also adds directives aimed at preventing the recurrence of such incidents and moves on to check if the sacrifices scheduled for that day were made.

Moshe turns to Aharon and tells him not to display publicly his mourning for fear that G-d may become angry with the entire community. “Know well,” he adds, “that your brethren, the entire House of Yisrael, shall bewail the burning that G-d has rekindled. Do not leave this place in the sanctuary,” he advises him, “for G-d’s anointing oil is upon you” (10:6-7). Aharon accepts Moshe’s words. His only concern, so it seems from verse 19, is that his silence not be interpreted as his possessing inhumane traits.

The psychological aspect of the exchanges between Moshe and Aharon, in the aftermath of the tragedy, is fascinating. In the first, Moshe, in his strong desire to console his brother who has just lost two sons, tells him that G-d “will display” His “holiness through those who come near” Him.

The second exchange is when Moshe directs the bereaved Aharon to remain in the Mishkan and continue to perform the duties of his role as Kohen Gadol (High Priest). One may understand Moshe’s words to mean that even though he feels Aharon’s pain, the latter is no longer a private person. On this critical day, the people need him to remain strong, guide them and conform to the role that he has been anointed to fulfill. Aharon, so it seems, is aware of the enormity of his position and despite his pain and anguish accepts it and resumes his duties, as prescribed by the protocol.

The intricacy of the account of this discourse captures, in my view, the essence of Jewish survival through our sanguineous history. Despite ongoing suffering, losses and death which have been the lot of our Jewish People, our desire to move on has never been extinguished. We have simply refused to give up. We could not afford to give up. The determination to ignite Hope at our darkest moments has been a beacon along the path of our historical timeline. It is the secret of our Jewish survival.

One modern day example which comes to mind and parallels the account of Aharon’s misfortune is the sad experience which befell the late general Raful (Refael Eitan) who was the IDF Chief of Staff, between the years 1978-1983. He was also very instrumental in planning and executing “Operation Opera,” the bombing of the Iraqi nuclear power plant in June 1981.

A month prior to the operation, his son Yoram, an IAF pilot was involved in a training accident. Raful was in Yerushalayim, in a government meeting, when it happened. Upon receiving the news, Raful left the meeting. He did not utter a word, just like Aharon in this week’s Parashah. His widow, Miriam, shared, years later, that Raful picked her from her office soon after he heard about the catastrophe but did not mention it until they reached their home. General Amos Yadlin, a pilot who partook in that operation, visited Raful’s home during the Shiv’a.  Just before Yadlin was about to leave, Raful caught him and said, “Don’t think that just because I am sitting Shiv’a, I will not come to the briefing.”

Like Aharon, Raful understood that he was not a private person and could not let his personal tragedy interfere with the important task that had been delegated to him. Yisrael needed him and counted on him just as Am Yisrael needed and counted on Aharon at the inauguration of the Mishkan. They were both entrusted and staunchly adhered to guiding and protecting Am Yisrael and the Jewish People as well as validating and keeping the spirit of Hope for a safer and better future for them.

Shabbat Shalom
 

The Evolvement of the Practice of Korbanot – One Reason for the Survival of Judaism

 

 

                                                   “Judaism is an ongoing moral revolution.” –                                                                                                                      Rabbi  Jonathan Sack ZT”L

This week’s Parashah, Tzav, addresses the subject of Korbanot (sacrifices), an important service, first performed in the Mishkan (Tabernacle) in the desert and later in Beit Hamikdash (Holy Temple) in Yerushalayim. The term korbanot is derived from the root K,R,B which means to draw closer. The purpose of the Korban was to bring people closer to G-d.

As I mentioned in an article that I wrote several weeks ago, sacrifices were a means to gain Teshuvah (repentance). As I also stressed there, animal sacrifices or the blood sprinkled on the altar were not then, before and after the existence of either the Tabernacle or the Temple, the only means to reach atonement or becoming one with G-d.                                           (https://wingnsonawildflight.blogspot.com/2022/02/the-currency-of-teshuvah.html)

The ritual of animal sacrifices, just like some of our other tenets, is not a Jewish one by origin. These practices were prevalent in the pagan societies of the ancient near eastern world, the world in which our forefathers resided and reared and were, as a result, steeped in them. In those societies, human sacrifices were part of the practice.

Why, then, one may ask, did we adopt it and why does the sacrificial system make up such a large part of our Torah?

       In his book, Guide for the Perplexed, Ramba”m explains that the Torah’s main purpose for including the ritual of sacrifices was to expunge the notion of paganism. According to him, the Torah instituted this system to help wane idolatrous practices. He further claims that human nature dictates that customs practiced over time become ingrained in them and cannot be easily  uprooted (3:30,3:32).

      Naturally, as Ramba”m suggests, the transition from one extreme to another, the disposing of old and well rooted customs that, over time, become part of human nature, cannot occur over night. The course needs time to acclimate. However, when we delve into the details of the practice as presented to Am Yisrael, in the Torah, we will discover the fascinating transformation of that pagan habit into what can be considered a brilliant move towards individual enrichment and the continued survival of a nascent nation.

Whereas in their surrounding antiquated cultures, such as in Egypt, where the hieroglyphics and the secrets of temple rituals, including the sacrificial ones, were under the exclusive authority of the priestly class, performed by them and known to them only, in the Torah, according to Professor Yonatan Grossman, the sacrificial directives in this Parashah are meant for the People as a whole. In his book, Torat Ha’Korbanot (The Torah of Sacrifices), Grossman claims that each Yisraelite who wishes to offer the sacrifice is the owner of the sacrifice and the Priest is merely their messenger. This message is resonated in the early verses of Viykra (Leviticus). It addresses every individual among Bnei Yisrael, “Speak to the Yisraelites and say to them: ‘When anyone among you brings an offering to the Lord, bring as your offering an animal from either the herd or the flock” (1:2). This verse, suggests Grossman, is to reveal to all members of Am Yisrael the secrets of the Mishkan and its practices. Its aim, he believes, is to induce the Divine Spirit among the People to attain and implement the sense of partnership between Man and G-d.

Considering the sacrificial practices that were prevalent in the region in those days, according to Grossman, this directive was revolutionary. It is not another esoteric secret literature like the ones that existed in the surrounding cultures. Rather, he asserts, it was a public one which should be shared with each member of Am Yisrael.

It is this kind of an ongoing evolution, adaptation to new realities, and the introduction of new concepts that have prevented Judaism from becoming extinct, according to Rabbi Sacks. In his essay entitled “Why Civilizations Die,” Sacks refers to Rebecca Costa’s Book, The Watchman’s Rattle, which provides her account of how civilizations like the Mayan or the Khmre die. “Societies,” writes Sacks, “reach what she calls a cognitive threshold. They simply can’t chart a path from the present to the future.”

Costa believes that it can happen to any civilization. The breakdown, she asserts, is identifiable through two signs. The first is gridlock where instead of dealing with clearly recognized problems, “these problems are passed to the next generation.” The second one is the retreat into irrationality. Religious consolation replaces their inability to cope with facts. “Archeologists,” Sacks recounts, “have uncovered gruesome evidence of human sacrifice on a vast scale….” of the Mayans and Khmre civilizations whose members sought such consolation and “focused on placating gods by manically making offerings to them.”

Despite facing two centuries of Roman oppression, the destruction of the Temple which brought about the cessation of the practice of sacrifices, Jewish sages did not focus on how to atone without sacrifice. Instead, they focused on finding substitutes for sacrifice. These included engaging in good deeds, studying Torah and prayer.

Judaism is indeed an “ongoing moral revolution,” as Sacks suggests. Though we have not obsessively clung on to our past, we have not forgotten nor abandoned it. We followed it while “thinking through the future,” by revolutionizing ancient concepts for the purpose of adjusting, surviving, and eventually also thriving in new and unfamiliar terrain.

Am Yisrael Chai

Creating a Holy Space for Utilizing Holy Time

 

“Alongside the holiness of place and person is the holiness of time.”  - Rabbi Jonathan Sacks ZT”L

According to Judaism, G-d is the creator of both time and space. The apogee of the act of creation is the establishment of Holy time. “The first thing G-d declared holy,” writes Rabbi Sacks, “was a day: Shabbat, at the conclusion of creation.” Unlike other religions in the ancient near east, in Judaism, holiness of time preceded holiness of space or place.

It was not only the Shabbat that G-d sanctifies. The consecration of Time as an “essential medium of the spiritual life,” explains Sacks, the sphere where the encounter between the Divine and humans transpires to forge the holiness of time, runs like a golden thread through our Jewish tradition.

The Torah repeatedly stresses the prominence of Holy time. Prior to G-d’s directive to build a dwelling place, a “Holy space,” for Him, He commands Moshe to create “Holy time” by forming a calendar (Shemot 12:1-2). “Holy time itself,” asserts Rabbi Sacks, comes in two forms……There is Shabbat and there are the festivals…..Shabbat,” continues Sacks, “was sanctified by G-d at the beginning of time for all time. The festivals are sanctified by the Jewish People to whom was given the authority and responsibility for fixing the calendar.”

This week’s Parashah, Pikudei, the last one in the Book of Shemot presents the completion of the dimension of Holiness of space. Whilst in the story of creation, unlike time, no space was depicted or sanctified, in this Parashah, a Holy space for G-d, the Mishkan, His dwelling place among His People has been completed. Now, there is a Sacred space wherein Am Yisrael could practice their Holy times for which G-d has been preparing them.

The connection between Holy time (Shabbat) and Holy space (Mishkan) has already been established in a previous Parashah Ki Tisa (Shemot 31:1-:17). The reasons behind the insertion of the commandment regarding the Shabbat in that particular Parashah has engaged Jewish sages such as Rash”i and Ramba”m. The message that Torah wishes to convey to us there is to stress, yet again, the predominance of Shabbat and that regardless of how important the construction of the MIshkan is, it does not override the sanctity of the Shabbat.

We have already learned about the prohibition to perform any kind of work (melachah) on Shabbat and the importance of keeping it Holy in the Ten Commandments. “Six days you shall labour and do all your work, but the seventh day is Shabbat to the Lord your G-d. On it, you shall not do any work, neither you, nor your son or daughter, nor your male or female servant, nor your animals, nor any foreigner residing in your towns” (Shemot 20: 9-10). In Ki Tisa, the Torah even mentions death as the form of punishment for not observing the Shabbat (Shemot 31:15).

The repeated pairing of building of the Mishkan with the Commandment to observe Shabbat in the last few Parashot of the book of Shemot is done for a reason.

As we have seen in these Parashot culminating with the detailed allocations of the funds donated for the construction of the Mishkan, in this week’s Parashah, there is no doubt that the expenses of this magnificent building and its upkeep are enormous. What then, we need to ask ourselves, would be the purpose of such an opulent dwelling place for G-d without human involvement to worship Him? Without readiness to observe Holy time, what meaning is there for erecting a Holy place? What use is there to a structure with miraculous architecture if it is devoid of the human element? A sacred place on its own is nothing but a façade which could not and would not preserve our heritage and our unending quest for a sublime future.

According to Rabbi Shavit Artson, Judaism is unique in the sense that, unlike other cultures in the ancient near east, it recognized “that holy space without holy time was mockery of true religion.” Rabbi Artson explains “that even a religion as profound and as joyous as Judaism cannot hope to transform our lives, let alone the world, if we will not invest the time necessary to let it work its wonders on our hearts. “If we don’t sanctify the Shabbat,” concludes rabbi Artson, “if we don’t regularly attend our synagogue’s worship services, if we don’t put aside time for Jewish learning on a regular basis, then we can’t hope to realize the potential that Judaism offers. “