The Eighth Day

 

                                                                 “And it came to pass on the eight day, that Moses called Aaron and his sons, and the elders of Israel…”

This week’s Parashah (Torah portion) is called “Shmini” (The Eight), Leviticus 9:1 through 11:47. It addresses various topics. Among them, it relates the tragedy that befell Aharon’s two sons.

 The issue I wish to address in this article is the one concerning the consecration of the Mishkan (God’s dwelling place).

The seven days in which Moshe performed all the necessary tasks preparing for the consecration of the Mishkan are over. On the eighth day, he summons Aharon and his two sons to, officially, pass on to them the scepter of priesthood.

I want to share with you, dear readers, a different perspective on this subject, one that the titular name evoked in me.

Years ago, I saw a French movie called “The Eighth Day.” It unfolds the story of a professional man, named Harry who becomes a workaholic. The money he earns affords him the pursuit of many materialistic gratifications. Harry drives a nice car. He buys a spacious and beautiful house full of precious items. Unfortunately, it is devoid of warmth or inviolability. It is just a house, not a home.  His family nucleus begins to disintegrate. His wife leaves him taking their two daughters and he becomes a recluse and very unhappy.

It is at one of his most difficult moments that Harry meets and befriends Georges, a young down syndrome man. Georges becomes his spiritual director. He guides Harry through a healing process. He helps him slow down and teaches him the importance of appreciating the natural world around us. Eventually, Harry reunites with his family and they live happily ever after.

Unfortunately, as is the case with most down syndrome victims, Georges dies at a young age. As the angels are carrying his soul to heaven, the narrator recounts the story of the creation in Genesis day by day. “And on the Sabbath, G-d rested,” he tells us, “looked at his world and thought ‘what is missing in my world?’ So,” the narrator concludes, “on the eight day, He created Georges.”

The eighth day, mentioned in this Parashah, derives its name, “Shmini,” from the very first verse which states: “And it came to pass on the eight day, that Moses called Aaron and his sons, and the elders of Israel…” On this day, The Mishkan is consecrated.

Unlike the narrative presented in the movie that I mentioned above, on the Seventh Day of creation, when G-d rested, he had already known what was missing in His world. He had already known what had to occur on the Eight Day. For six days He had been working on creating a world for us, humans, a perfect dwelling place, a world to satisfy our physical needs and existence. G-d, in his wisdom, did not want us to end up like Harry in the story above. He knew that the physical universe He had created was just a house. It needed to become a Home, a place that would include a spiritual dimension, righteousness and morality, a place where we, its dwellers, would be blessed with an appreciation for the gifts of life bestowed upon us by Him.

What was, therefore, needed to be formed on “The Eight Day” was a dwelling place for G-d, among us. It would have been the missing piece, the one that would make His creation complete.

 Naturally, some may argue that G-d, the omnipotent, could have, himself, created “the Eight Day” merely by speaking, just as he had done on the previous six days. Why, then, didn’t He?

In order to answer this question, let me take you back to the Book of Shemot (Exodus), more specifically Chapter 25 verse 8, where G-d tells Moses, “Then have them make a sanctuary for me, and I will dwell among them.” The task of building a dwelling place for G-d, not only amidst them but in them, in their heart, is upon Am Yisrael. ( I refer you to an article I wrote on the subject last year: https://wingnsonawildflight.blogspot.com/2020/02/terumah-building-tabernacle-within-us.html)
Only then would the world be the Home that G-d had intended it to become for us and through us, for humanity.

"The Eight Day" in G-d’s plan, therefore, is the day on which the Tabernacle, which Bezalel, who was blessed with the wisdom of the heart designed and which Am Yisrael together contributed to and jointly built. It is the day in which the spiritual universe, which G-d had planned for us to built for ourselves, bonded and merged into one with the physical world that He had set up in Genesis.

 It is our duty to ensure that the Eighth Day and what it stands for remains an inseparable part of the rest of the week. We need to preserve it as G-d had intended it to be, not just a “house” but a “home,” as well. It is the only means to heal and restore that which has become, in the words of the late Lord Rabbi Sacks, “a fractured world.”

Shavua tov

The Perpetual Flame

“The fire must be kept burning on the altar continuously; it must not go out.” Leviticus 6:13

Fire is one of the five elements of nature. It is probably the most fascinating one of them. One cannot avoid being attracted and mesmerized by its dynamics and power when watching it. Along with its symbolism, fire has steered mankind since the dawn of civilization. It has been used in  social, religious and sacred rites. It is a wonderful gift which can cleanse, purge, and empower us, inspire, and enrich us. Unfortunately, when unbridled, it can also harm us. It can consume and turn into ashes anything that stands in its path.

Fire and its role in conducting the affairs of the Mishkan, mainly with regards to the rituals of the various sacrifices, is one of the central themes in this week’s Parashah, Tzav. Many of the various sacrifices were mentioned in last week’s Parashah. However, while there, it discussed the laws that concern the persons who bring the sacrifice, in this week’s Parashah, the commands are relegated to the Cohanim (priests), namely Aharon and his sons.

G-d instructs Moshe to command (Tzav) them and pass on to them the decrees, duties and rights concerning the ceremonies and rituals of sacrifices. The central tool around which most of the chores and services in the Mishkan take place is’ as we learn, the altar.

Part of the directives of conducting the work of the Mishkan, focus on the Esh Hatamid, the eternal fire, which was constantly burning on the altar of the Mishkan. The flame signifies the altar's incessant task: even when no sacrifice is offered, the altar is always on a “stand by” mode, ready to perform its mission.

In his  book “Likutei Torah,” the Lubavitcher Rebbe, states that the altar is akin to the heart of a Jew. Rabbi Elimelech, similarly, describes every Jew as an altar and their sanctity as akin to the eternal flame. Just as the altar should have the perpetual fire, he claims, so within every Jew, there should always be a burning desire to aspire to as close to being holy as possible. Just as the Cohanim needed to ensure that the altar fire never extinguishes, so do we, Jews and Am Yisrael, need to engage in the service of Hashem so that our inviolability does not get quenched.

I beg to differ with these views. Every Jew is not just “an altar.”

A few weeks ago, I addressed the directive to build a Mishkan for G-d. In my article entitled, “Terumah" – Building a Tabernacle Within Us,” I suggested that when G-d instructed Moshe to command Bnei Yisrael to build a Mishkan for him, that He “also meant a spiritual Tabernacle, one that will create a permanent dwelling place for Him not only in their camp but also in their heart, in their soul. G-d wants to dwell “in them” not only among them. He wishes to be part of their essence.”

In my view, G-d wants us to have a Mishkan within us, to be, ourselves a Mishkan, a sanctuary, a vital and spirited entity that is cloaked in holiness: “For you are a Holy Nation to the Lord, your G-d. Out of all the peoples on the face of the earth’ the Lord has chosen you to be his treasured possession” (Devarim 14:2). And just like the Eternal fire that burns in G-d’s dwelling place among us, so should an eternal vibrant flame burn within us, in our Mishkan.

 The word “holy” in Hebrew is the same root as dedication. It denotes loyalty and a concerted effort try and reach higher levels of existence, the spiritual kind and what Rabbi Berel Weil refers to as “nobility of purpose. A holy nation,” he states, “… is a nation that is able to retain its unique identity. It cannot be swallowed up by the prevailing and ever changing majority cultures that will always surround it.”

The Eternal Flame that burns on the altar of our individual Mishkan is the fervor, the passion with which we will continue to guard, protect and continue to adhere to our noble Jewish values, Torah moral code and ethics, our wonderful tradition and our designated role in History, that of being “A Light unto the Nations.”

This Flame within us will be the Pillar of Fire which will illuminate our Life’s path and help us remain, in the words of Rabbi Weil, “a Holy Nation in every walk of life, at Home and at the marketplace, in the halls of government – and certainly in the treatment of others.”

Wishing everyone Shabbat Shalom with every blessing for abundant health.

Leviticus

I have long objected to using Greek or Latin names that were given to our Holy Torah. Bresheet has become, “Genesis.” Shemot has become Exodus and Bamidbar “Numbers.”

The Latin name, “Leviticus,” given to the 3rd Chumash,”Vaykrah, however, is the only one that I can live with.

Why?

Leviticus is derived from the word Levi, the name of the tribe from which the Cohanim (Priests) and Levites who served G-d in the Temple, come from. Levitcus, is also referred to as the “Book of Cohanim”.

Professor Yacob Milgrom (1923-2010) whom I had the great honour and pleasure to have met while I was in graduate school at Berkeley (that is where he conducted his research) calls Leviticus the “Book of Rituals and Ethics.” The book does contain and discuss the laws pertaining to the Cohanim and Levites and other ceremonial observances such as sacrifices and those relating to purity.

What is unique about Leviticus that does not exist in the previous three Torah books?

Leviticus introduces two new kinds of sacrifices: sin offering and guilt offering. It also mentions the subject of contamination for the first time.

Before anyone points out to me that sin offering is already mentioned in Shemot chapter 29, as part of the construction of the Mishkan, it is noteworthy to mention that, there, the sin offering is not aimed at absolving anyone from transgression (which is its goal) but for the sole purpose of cleansing the altar.

The Torah also gives us the reason for the need for such an offering in Leviticus 16:16, “In this way, he will make atonement for the Most Holy Place because of the uncleanliness and rebellion of the Israelites, whatever their sins have been. He is to do the same for the tent of meeting, which is among them during their uncleanliness.”

Leviticus is the first Book of the Torah that raises the issues of impurity and defilement. The mention of sin and guilt offerings brings to the awareness of people that humans and vessels can be contaminated. It also stresses that one can cleanse oneself of any uncleanness. The Leviticus author dwells on these in detail and at length and for ONE reason, the Mishkan.

Before the erection of the Mishkan, a Yisraelite could set up an altar and sacrifice anywhere. However, when the Mishkan was constructed, it became the only place anyone could offer a sacrifice to G-d. In the Mishkan of Shemot, it was only Moshe and Cohanikm who conferred with G-d. Leviticus turns the into a place where every human can confer with G-d through sacrifice offering. It is no longer exclusively for Moses and the Cohanim.

The Mishkan of Vayikra has, therefore, taken on a new factor. It must remain the holiest, purest ,cleanest and most untainted place in the camp. This new reality has created a need for new laws in order to protect it from the impurity that resulted from the sins of Bnei Yisrael. That, of course, explains the verse from Leviticus 16:16 which I quoted above.

It is sad that Leviticus is not studied widely or given more attention. Many regard it as dealing with ancient practices which dissipated a long time ago.

As a result, unfortunately, we fail to understand its important message to us, especially these days.

The message of Leviticus is that each and everyone of us should be part of the effort to keep the Shechina among us. In order to be worthy of that, we need to ensure, especially during these hard days, that we adhere to our objective to remain as clean and pure both Physically and Spiritually. Only this way can we fulfill the destiny of being Am Kadosh, a Holy Nation and overcome the most ferocious enemies.

Shabbat Shalom and every blessing.

A Community and Its Individuals, Equally Important

This week’s Parasha is composed of two portions. The decision to combine the occasional readings of two portions instead of just one arose out of the need to reconcile between the number of Torah portions (54) and the number of Shabbatot in a year (52). Doubling up Torah portions is also practiced close to reference point on the Jewish calendar (e.g. Pesach, Shavuot and others).

This week’s Parashah pairs Vaykhel and Pikudei.

It is interesting to note that these two Parashot express two different and perhaps conflicting messages. Vayakhel means gathering bringing people together and creating a community, a Kehilah. A community creates a stronger, more sublime reality, forges a sense of unity and commitment. And that is precisely what Moshe is trying to create in Parashat Vayakhel.

 The Parashah details how Moshe gathers Am Yisrael, shares with them G-d’s directive to build a House for Him and reminds them of the importance to observe Shabbat. Am Yisrael is excited and enlists itself to this important task. They contribute, each in their own way and according to their abilities. Some give silver, gold, precious stones. Others contributed by applying their skills.

Moshe’s efforts to unite the People have borne fruit. After a short while, Moses is told that there are enough materials, supplies and skilled individuals to carry out the duty. The mission of cementing a community by providing a common goal has been successful.

Then comes Parashat Pikudei, its pair. The word, “Pikudei” means counting, taking a census, tallying up. In this Parashah, Moshe is counting and documenting the vessels of the Mishkan, each one separately and equally important regardless of its size or value.

The message is clear. The process of building the Mishkan symbolizes the formation, the transformation of Am Yisrael from a forlorn multitude into a nation that shares a common covenant where everyone is an essential, vital part of one whole. 

Moshe, the great leader, was able to find the balance between the two very important, concepts underlying every healthy society, the community and its individuals. Through paring these two Parashot, we are given the tools to creating a society of shared values and ambitions where each individual feels connected and responsible for its well-being in an equal manner.

Fellow Jews and Am Yisrael, these are  trying times for the world. Here in Yisrael, the problem is magnified due to unresolved political issues. It is at times such as these that we need to join hands, cultivate our sense of unity, forget our petty ego related issues and dedicate ourselves, our skills and resources for the good of the whole.

To achieve Peace among us, we need both “Vayakhel and “Pikudei” equally.

Shavua tov. May we have a week full of Light, Love and Every Blessing.

"Terumah" – Building a Tabernacle Within Us

One of the topics of this week’s Parashah, Terumah, addresses the construction of the Tabernacle, Mishkan, the transportable house of worship which G-d orders Moses to instruct the Yisraelites to build for him: “have them make a sanctuary for me, and I will dwell among them.” (Exodus 25:8). The Parashah discusses the subject at length, rather exhaustively and with much details.

“It was a modest affair,” states Rabbi Sacks when reviewing the issue of the Tabernacle in his excellent book, “The Home We Build Together.” According to him, and rightly so, “it had, or so it seems, no lasting significance….. So why is the story of the Tabernacle told at such length?” he asks.

Sacks believes that “the {Tabernacle} narrative is deliberately constructed in such a way as to create a set of linguistic parallels between the Yisraelites’ construction of the Tabernacle and G-d’s creation of the universe.” According to Sacks, in “commanding Moses to get the people to make the Tabernacle, G-d was in effect saying: To turn a group; of individuals into a conventional nation, they must build something together.” The kind of Nation that the children of Yisrael were destined to become “is created through the act of creation itself,” Sacks adds.

The Tabernacle which “was built out of difference and diversity” and which was built out of the differential contributions where each was valued equally…….was a visible emblem of community,“ Sacks goes on to say. “It represented…, in social terms integration without assimilation.” The Tabernacle, therefore, is the symbol of society,” Sacks explains. Once we recognize that, we understand the parallelism between the story of creation and the construction of the Tabernacle and its “immense implication: Just as God creates the natural world, so we are called on to create the social universe.”

As always, I am, again, in awe of Sacks’s brilliant interpretation of this Parashah.  I believe, however, that there is another angle that it can be looked at. It stems from the Hebrew choice of words in G-d’s directive to Moses regarding the construction of the Tabernacle, which, unfortunately, is mistranslated..

The Hebrew word, “B’tocham,” that the text uses, means “in them” and not “among them” as the English translation states. That difference sheds another light on what I reckon G-d intended.

My understanding of G-d’s command to Moses is that it is not only the material portable structure that He was referring to. I believe that G-d also meant a spiritual Tabernacle, one that will create a permanent dwelling place for Him not only in their camp but also in their heart, in their soul. G-d wants to dwell “in them,” not only among them. He wishes to be part of their essence.

As significant a step as it was towards helping them become a nation, the Yisraelites did not need only a social universe.  They need to remember that G-d did not intend for them to be a nation just like any other. They are G-d’s chosen People. Without internalizing that notion, without understanding it, their social universe, on its own, would not last long. Without G-d ‘s dwelling in them and not merely among them, as a constant reminder of the Covenant entered at Mount Sinai, they would never accomplish the role that they were called to fulfill.

I would venture, therefore, to add another dimension to Rabbi’s Sacks’s drawing the parallel between G-d’s creation of the natural universe and the social universe symbolized by the construction of the Tabernacle. In my view, the Tabernacle also represents the creation of our Jewish spiritual universe, the one that cements the natural and the social ones into a cohesive unshakable, indestructible and powerful force.

Shavua tov.

Prioritizing

 In this week’s Parasha, Moshe assembles Am Yisrael and provides them with the final directions and guidelines for the monumental and important undertaking of building the Mishkan, G-d’s dwelling place among His People.

Nevertheless, instead of delving unswervingly into this matter, Moshe precedes it by reminding Am Yisrael of the importance of keeping the Shabbat.

The commandment concerning the Shabbat, as mentioned in Exodus 20 verse 7-10, states:

“Remember the sabbath day, to keep it holy. Six days shalt thou labour, and do all they wor but the seventh day is a Sabbath unto the Lord thy G-d, in it thou shalt not do any manner of work, thou, nor thy so, nor thy daughter, nor thy man-servant, nor thy maid-servant, nor thy cattle, nor thy stranger that is within thy gates for in six days the Lord made heaven and earth, the sea, and all that in tem is, and rested on the seventh day; wherefore the Lord blessed the Sabbath day and hallowed it."

The reasoning behind keeping the Shabbat, as the commandment implies, is not just moral but also suggests that by resting and sanctifying it, one acknowledges the immensity of G-d as the creator of heaven and earth and all living things. 

Had Moshe wanted to remind Am Yisrael of the need to abstain from engaging in this colossal mission of building the Mishkan on Shabbat, all he had to do is remind them of the commandment and refresh their memory regarding it. Instead, however, he does not merely remind them of that, he also expands on it and tells them: “

“whosoever doeth any work therein shall be put to death. Ye shall kindle no fire throughout your habitation upon the Sabbath day.” (Exodus 35:2-3) Unlike the referenced commandment given at Mount Sinai which puts G-d as the ultimate creator at its center, here Moshe stresses the onerous nature of keeping the Shabbat and attaches a punishment by death to those who break it. Why the sudden preoccupation with the Shabbat and the stress on observing it, some may wonder. Moreover, why is it done in a forceful, threatening manner, others may ask. After all, should not the task of building the Mishkan be associated with pleasant positive and rewarding experiences? To answer that question, one must look at the role that Shabbat serves in the essence of Am Yisrael and the covenant it entered with G-d at Mount Sinai. It was the Covenant that transformed us from a multitude of slaves into a Nation, forged into a cohesive unit where each member shares the same destiny. There are other covenants that were entered in the Tanach. Each had its own, unique sign. Here are some examples. There was the Noahide Covenant with the rainbow designated as its sign. There was the Abrahamic Covenant. Circumcision is its mark. Among all the Biblical covenants, the Sinaitic one entered at Mount Sinai was probably the most significant in the history of Am Yisrael. The symbol of that Covenant, also known as the Mosaic Covenant, is the Shabbat. Shabbat occurs fifty-two times in the Hebrew calendar. We have weekly reminders of it. What use, therefore, would there be for spending time, efforts and other resources in building a dwelling place for G-d, if Am Yisrael does not remember its purpose in the first place? Prioritizing the significance of the milestones in the journey of Am Yisrael is the lesson G-d wants to teach His People at the onset of the Parasha. Internalizing that, is of prime importance. Without keeping the Covenant, without recognizing the substance and the core of the Covenant, the Mishkan will end up being nothing but a mere grand material monument devoid of any meaning or purpose. That is why Moshe needs to precede the instructions to build it by reminding Am Yisrael of their vocation and the unique part that they play on the chessboard of history irrelevant of constructing the Mishkan. And it is precisely by remembering this Covenant, signified by the Shabbat, that we can adhere to our fated role without the need for a physical or earthly structure to carry it out. Shabbat Shalom