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CHAPTER 1
The Torah
Tsav: Leviticus 6:1–8:36
The "yuck" theme continues: the ancient Israelite sacrificial system. In this Torah portion we read about the burnt offering (olah), the grain offering (minchah), the offering that would purify the worshiper of sin (chattat), the offering of reparation (asham), and the offering of well-being (zevach shelamim).
The portion concludes with a description of the way that the priests (kohanim) are inducted into their sacred duties.
There are important themes that emerge from all this description of sacrifices and priests.
Summary
• The burnt offering (olah, sometimes translated as "holocaust") must be burned entirely. It must be kept burning on the altar all night long, and the fire of the altar must burn perpetually. Moreover, the priest is responsible for carrying the ashes of the sacrifice outside the camp to a pure place. (6:1–6)
• The grain offering (minchah) is presented to the Lord, but Aaron and his sons eat what is left over from the offering. (6:7–11)
• The reparation offering (asham) is intended as a way to purify the worshiper of the wrongs that he or she has committed. (7:1–10)
• The elaborate rituals of investiture (ordaining) of the priests are filled with sacrificial offerings. An important part of the ritual is to put the blood of a sacrifice on Aaron's right ear, his right thumb, and the big toe of his right foot. (8:1–36)
The Big Ideas
• The fire that burns perpetually on the altar symbolizes Judaism — and the Jewish people. In this way, the perpetual fire is like the burning bush that Moses saw, and the eternal light (ner tamid) in synagogues. These are all sources of warmth and light that will last forever — like Judaism and the Jews.
• No one is too special to be involved in small things. The priest is not exempt from the "dirty work" of Jewish living. He, and not a subordinate, is responsible for cleaning up from the sacrifice. This ensures that the priests will always remember to be holy.
• We need to love the Jewish past. The leftover ashes of the sacrifice are also holy. The Jewish past, even though it is history, is as important as the Jewish present and the Jewish future.
• Judaism is about community. The sacrifices are not only for God. In fact, they are mostly connected with our acts of eating. Eating is a way for people to feel a sense of community.
• Judaism says that you can move on from doing something wrong. Judaism does not believe in simply feeling guilty, it teaches that you can make restitution. In ancient days, that was in the form of a sacrificial offering. Nowadays, it can take the form of an apology and/or somehow making up for what you have done.
• Judaism is connected to the body. The ritual of investiture of the priests involves three parts of the body: the ear, the thumb, and the big toe. Each body part symbolizes an essential part of living: hearing, action, and walking.
Divrei Torah
Doing the Chores
Chores. Who needs them? And yet we all have them: doing the dishes, taking out the garbage, walking the dog, shoveling snow, cleaning our rooms. Doing chores is one of the most basic aspects of living as part of a family. No one can do it all, and everyone needs to pitch in.
It turns out that there were chores — even in the ancient Tabernacle. And just wait until you learn who had to do them.
There was a sacrificial offering called the olah, the burnt offering. The priest, dressed in his fancy linen garments, took the ashes and placed them next to the altar. He then took off his garments, changed into other clothing, and carried the ashes outside the camp (6:2–4).
Your synagogue probably has a custodian who cleans up after people. (Quick: what's his or her name?) We tend to think of janitors and custodians as, well, "lowly" people, and we sometimes look down on them. This, of course, is wrong. The Bible, too, mentions the "wood choppers and water drawers." But when it came to the Tabernacle the cleanup crew consisted not of the lowliest Israelites, but of the holiest — the priests themselves.
What do we learn from this? No matter how important the priest might have been, he still had to get "down and dirty." It was a lesson in humility. In fact, the priests actually competed to do this work! There was so much competition that two priests once ran up the ramp of the ancient Temple, fighting to get to the top, and one of them pushed the other and he broke his leg. Here's how the early sages said the problem was fixed: "There was a daily lottery to see who would have the privilege of climbing up the ramp to the top of the altar and carrying away the ashes."
We tend to distrust religious leaders who live in big mansions, have fancy cars and vacation homes, and dress a little too well. We want to see humility, not arrogance. After all, "to walk humbly" is the famous teaching of the prophets, and a prime characteristic of Moses.
During the Holocaust, the great German rabbi Leo Baeck was a prisoner in the Theresienstadt concentration camp. He was the undisputed leader of all German Jewry — a man so respected that even Nazis officers showed deference to him. Rabbi Baeck stayed with his community in Berlin, even though he had a chance to leave, and then accompanied them to that awful place.
And yet, what did he do in the concentration camp? He became a "horse," pulling a garbage wagon, like other prisoners. Rabbi Baeck said: "I was quite happy doing this. The other 'horse' harnessed to the same cart was a distinguished philosopher. We had wonderful conversations about ethics and religion as we dragged the refuse through the mud."
Rabbi Baeck knew that there was dignity even in demeaning work. It is a lesson that we can all learn.
A Jewish Anatomy Lesson
Ask any rabbi or cantor about the ceremony in which he or she became a rabbi or cantor. They will probably tell you something like this: There was a huge ordination ceremony, perhaps in a large, prominent synagogue. A seminary official called each candidate up by name. The president or chancellor said some private words to the candidate, blessed him or her, and that's it. That person then became a rabbi or a cantor. Mazel tov!
Not bad, especially when you compare it to the way that the priests were ordained in biblical times. An animal was slaughtered, and a little bit of blood was placed on the middle part of Aaron's right ear, and the thumb of his right hand, and then the big toe of his right foot — and then he was a priest. His sons went through the same ordination rituals.
If you're left handed, you're probably feeling a little "left out" right now. Yes, the Bible seems to be discriminating against left-handed people. Equality and inclusion as we know it was not fully developed back then. But, getting past the bias, an important lesson is to be learned from this ancient ceremony: the three body parts — the ear, thumb, and toe — are essential to being a Jew, and being human.
Let's start with the ear. Remember that the central statement of Jewish faith begins this way: Shema Yisrael (Hear, Israel). You need to be able to listen to people and really hear what they are saying. This does not mean that you have to agree with everything that everyone says; sometimes it is simply enough to pay attention to others. And we not only have to train ourselves to really listen; we also have to train ourselves to hear — to hear the right things, not to listen to gossip, and to learn how to figure out the truth.
Next, there is the thumb. Having a thumb is one of those things that make us human and able to function as humans. The thumb stands for the ability to act.
Finally, there is the big toe. Funny thing about the big toe; we usually ignore it, unless someone steps on it or we stub it. Without our big toes, we would not be able to balance ourselves. But, more than this, pay attention to how you walk. What's the first part of the body that moves when you move forward? Right — the big toe. Movement and balance.
So, yes, in order to be a fully functional Jewish person you need those body parts. The ancient Jewish philosopher Philo teaches: "The fully consecrated must be pure in words and actions and in life; for words are judged by hearing, the hand is the symbol of action, and the foot symbolizes the pilgrimage of life."
But, beyond that, those body parts are necessary for being human. As contemporary Jewish educator Sorel Goldberg Loeb writes: "The priest is smeared with blood to remind him of his bond with all life. But the parts of his body that are marked are those that distinguish him from and elevate him above the animals."
Connections
• What do you do that is considered menial? Why is it important?
• How can we make sure that Judaism lasts forever?
• What ways can you show loyalty to the Jewish past, present, and future?
• What are some ways that you have felt a sense of community in eating with others?
• What are ways that you have made up for some wrongs you have done?
• In what ways do you use your ears, thumbs, and toes "Jewishly"?
CHAPTER 2
The Haftarah
Tsav: Jeremiah 7:21–8:3; 9:22–23
Let's remember the word "jeremiad." A "jeremiad" is a hot, angry, rant that someone delivers in the hope of changing society. The word comes from the prophet Jeremiah. Jeremiah, who preached during the final days of the Southern Kingdom of Judah, was sure of many things. Among them was his belief that sacrifices alone could not make God happy. Rather, those sacrifices had to be accompanied by acts of justice.
It's the subject of sacrifice that links this haftarah back to the Torah portion, which is a continuation of Leviticus's description of the ancient sacrificial system. Jeremiah is warning the people: if you keep worshiping idols in the Temple, and if you keep sacrificing your children to idols in the valleys of Jerusalem, God will destroy Jerusalem, and you will all be destroyed as well.
It gets even worse. Jeremiah tells the people that even after they have been killed, their bodies will be pulled from their graves and left to rot under the sun and the stars — under the "hosts of heaven," which they have worshiped.
Now, you know why they call these kinds of proclamations "jeremiads." Jeremiah was angry. He must have believed in shock therapy. Although not all his message is so negative, much of it is — just like political advertising today!
Idols Are More Than Statues
The prophets were soldiers in a war — and that war was against idolatry. As the writer Norman Podhoretz said: "This was a war to establish the truth of the great revelation — namely, that there was only one God, not many gods, that you couldn't see him, you couldn't make a picture of him, you couldn't make a statue of him to which you would then bow down."
Yes, making a god with your own hands was surely idolatry. But it didn't end there. Jeremiah didn't like the way that the Judeans were worshiping God. He and the other prophets thought that the worship of anything other than God was idolatry.
Jeremiah says: "Thus said the Lord: Let not the wise man glory in his wisdom; let not the strong man glory in his strength; let not the rich man glory in his riches" (Jer. 9:23). It's a continuation of the theme in last week's haftarah portion, on the danger of self-worship.
Sometimes, people think their intellect is the most important thing there is, and that leads to abuses of knowledge. Sometimes, people think power is the most important thing, and that leads to abuses of power. It's not only nations that do this; individuals do it as well. (Think of the athletic coach who abuses his or her power over team members.) And, sometimes, people think that their money and what it can buy is the most important thing. (Think of how much some families spend on bar or bat mitzvah celebrations!)
Rabbi Dini Lewittes puts it this way: "Are we not guilty of making academic achievement, political power and material wealth the ultimate values of our Jewish community? Perhaps if we listen carefully to Jeremiah's moving words, we can create a community that reflects the most cherished values of our people: justice, kindness and equity."
So, what is the real way to worship God, asks Jeremiah? To reject idolatry. The Talmud teaches: "Whoever rejects idolatry has already observed the entire Torah." We worship God by knowing that "I the Lord act with kindness, justice, and equity in the world; for in these I delight — declares the Lord" (9:22–23).
Act that way; that is all that God really wants us to do.
(Continues…)
Excerpted from "Tsav (Leviticus 6:1–8:36) and Haftarah (Jeremiah 7:21–8:3; 9:22–23)"
by .
Copyright © 2018 Rabbi Jeffrey K. Salkin.
Excerpted by permission of UNIVERSITY OF NEBRASKA PRESS.
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