A thought on Parshas Tzav

"...es chazeh ha'tenufa v'es shok ha'teruma...""...the breast portion and the thigh for the waving service..." (7:34)

The Torah instructs us in an aspect of the sacrificial service. Those who brought forth peace offerings (shelamim) would have the thigh and breast portions of the animal brought to the Kohen who would in turn raise up those limbs and wave them in every direction. This was similar to the waving of the lulav which we do on Sukkos. This ritual was known as tenufa.

Rabbeinu Bachya notes the significance of these two limbs. Remember that bringing a sacrifice in the Bais HaMikdash was a way of signifying how each of us is ready to "make personal sacrifices" by devoting our selves to doing HaShem's will. In that sense, offering a costly animal (compare last week's Parsha e-mail) demonstrated the lengths to which we would go in order to display our symbolic self-sacrifice. Now, as to the breast and thigh portions: these two parts contain the moving forces within the human (and animal) body. The breast conceals the heart, which pulsates and moves constantly within us. The thighs connect the two halves of the body and direct the flow of energy as we propel ourselves ahead when we walk, run, turn or stand firm.

By waving these parts, the Kohen asserts the Jewish people's readiness to move, to be on the go, to channel our energy in any direction in which HaShem might guide us, and to signal that we seek Him to the North, to the South, the East, West, Above and Below. Our heart beats within and our body is poised to act. By offering an animal in our stead, we gesture that while our possessions may come and may go, we seek the opportunity to live on with continuity of devotion. Despite the human proclivity to insist that "it's my life and I'll do what I want", the tenufa ritual, through lifting and waving these parts of the animals, was our way of saying "it's my life and I'll do what He wants."

As we move closer now to Pesach may we too assert our clarity about being ready to move on, converging soon on Jerusalem where we will once again take part in the Avoda. Good Shabbos. D Fox

A Thought On Parshas Vayikra

"...im olah korbano min ha'bakar...""...if his sacrifice is an offering, it will come from cattle..." (3:3)

The Torah instructs us that a burnt offering - a korban olah - may be brought in the form of a bull (hence the reference to cattle above), or in the form of a sheep, or in the form of a bird. We all know that these are not really three options to chose from but rather are intended as the prescriptive choices for three types of people. A rich person may offer a cow. An average one can offer a sheep. The poor bring birds as offerings. It seems easy to understand this: the richer one is, the more he can afford. Only a poor man, who needs to bring an offering, would be allowed to chose a small bird, since that is all that he can afford. Nonetheless, each one's offering is accepted Above, since it is one's sincerity, not one's budget, which make a difference in HaShem's world.

Although we can certainly live with this interpretation, there is another perspective offered by Rabbeinu Bachya. The relative costs of the three animals are not just proportionate to the relative wealth of the person who brings them as sacrifices. Remember, this korban olah was brought to atone for one's wayward thoughts. It was not a sin offering per se, for that type of sacrifice (a korban chatos) was brought to atone for wayward behavior. The olah was to atone for the internal behavior - the lust, the urge, the plan, the scheme, the fantasy of committing a sin - which is usually a precursor to overt misconduct.

Often, the more wealth and riches which one acquires, the more secure they become in their belief that it is their own abilities which earn them a good living. They are more likely to assume that it is their own skill and talent which brought them their fortune. This leads to excessive pride and even arrogance. Those thoughts and those feelings are the internal dynamics which can lead to overt misconduct and sinful behavior. Hence, that rich person needs to bring a sacrifice which is not only costly but which also symbolizes the extent of his internal struggle. The korban needs to be big in proportion with the size of his "ego" or inflated self importance.

Meanwhile, the average person is less likely to become as grandiose or preoccupied with haughty thoughts. He is just a regular sort of person, and he brings a regular sort of korban to symbolize his level of internal swaying. The poor man seldom has any illusions about his own power or majesty, so when he offers an olah, it is an inexpensive bird which symbolizes the lowliness which he sees in himself, which limits the extent of his internal drifting. He is a humble sort of person and his sacrifice is also humble. Each person brings something which befits his perceived stature and sense of identity in this world.

In our own lives, many times we can learn about our own self image by examining the things which draw our interest. The "things" which we value, the objects which we need to have close by and which we associate with our personality or our identity, may symbolize to ourselves - and to others - something about our internal preoccupations. Two weeks ago we talked about the "inkblots" and how our perception of ambiguity is shaped by our internal process. The symbols which we chose to represent ourselves also reveal things about our internal process. What does your car say about you? Your circle of friends? Your attire? Your hobbies?

Each person who seeks to atone for himself is afflicted with his own burden and the animals which are brought may represent the ways in which his or her status shapes the form and content of that internal struggle to maintain focus and stability. Good Shabbos and wishing our people a meritorious Pesach, looking ahead to the time when we may all bring forth our offerings with joy as we reunite in Jerusalem. D Fox

A thought on Parshas Vayakhel - Pikudei

"...ve'ha'malacha haisa dayam..." - "...kol ha'avoda..."
"...and all the work was sufficient..." - "...all of the work..." (36:7;39:42)

This is a "double parsha" this year and I was pleased to find a thought in each parsha which Rabbeinu Bachya explains, and which I want to connect.

The construction of the Mishkan neared completion and as the first verse above suggests, sufficient work had been put into it. The second verse refers to that "work" (malacha) by a different word, namely avoda.

Now before we work on that second observation, let's labor to get back to the first one. The question which should bother us is why the Torah tells us that the work was sufficient. After all, at the end of last's week's Torah reading (36:5-7), we already learned that the people had done more than they needed in getting the work done (if you look there, the verse uses the words "ha'avoda le'malacha" which are the two expressions found in our two verses this week.) Surely this is not a redundancy. Surely there is a reason for each verse.

Rabbeinu Bachya writes that the Mishkan was our people's physical means of seeking to emulate the Mishkan Above. The Higher Realm, which is a euphemism for HaShem, is the Source for all that comes about in the universe. The Higher One Above empowers all of our acts and brings into existence all things and all that is. That energy or power is willed by HaShem who is the source of all acts, or malacha. There are no limits Above and hence, the first verse means that the malacha, meaning the Divine Source of all sources was sufficient. There was always enough. Malacha refers, thus, to Heavenly forces at work.

What that meant was that our people below donated whatever they donated, and built all that they built, but that we knew that our acts were not the real malacha. Our acts were the well intended, focused motions which were actually avoda. Drawing upon Divinely inspired inspiration and yearning to divine the Divine Will, or ratzon HaShem, our own mortal work was elevated to the level of serving HaShem. This is why the second verse (as well as the one from last week) distinguishes between malacha and avoda. Avoda means work that is done as a form of service.

If you think about this, we can learn from here about altering our perception by altering our perspective. There are many things that we labor on and work on: domestic chores, child care, parnasa, yard work (I confess that I spent part of last Sunday raking leaves) and we can get caught up in the monotony and the pressure and fail to see anything sacred or spiritual about our exertion. On the other hand, we can see our efforts in perspective, all as facets of working towards the service of HaShem. Domestic chores can facilitate a calmer home which might help promote better relationships. Child care is the way in which we prepare the next generation of good Jews. Earning a living can keep us honest and avail us with the means to do good things. Raking leaves can... well, I can tell you that as I finished doing that job, a friend brought his visiting Chassidishe rebbe by, who had a message for me. At least the front yard looked befitting for a person of his stature.

In so many ways, seeing our circumstances within their broader context, and developing a clearer, better perspective, can help us change our perception of events. Ordinary acts of malacha can transform us into agents of avoda. This is something to work on.

Good Shabbos. D Fox

A thought on Parshas Vayakhel - Pikudei

"...ve'ha'malacha haisa dayam..." - "...kol ha'avoda..."
"...and all the work was sufficient..." - "...all of the work..." (36:7;39:42)

This is a "double parsha" this year and I was pleased to find a thought in each parsha which Rabbeinu Bachya explains, and which I want to connect.

The construction of the Mishkan neared completion and as the first verse above suggests, sufficient work had been put into it. The second verse refers to that "work" (malacha) by a different word, namely avoda.

Now before we work on that second observation, let's labor to get back to the first one. The question which should bother us is why the Torah tells us that the work was sufficient. After all, at the end of last's week's Torah reading (36:5-7), we already learned that the people had done more than they needed in getting the work done (if you look there, the verse uses the words "ha'avoda le'malacha" which are the two expressions found in our two verses this week.) Surely this is not a redundancy. Surely there is a reason for each verse.

Rabbeinu Bachya writes that the Mishkan was our people's physical means of seeking to emulate the Mishkan Above. The Higher Realm, which is a euphemism for HaShem, is the Source for all that comes about in the universe. The Higher One Above empowers all of our acts and brings into existence all things and all that is. That energy or power is willed by HaShem who is the source of all acts, or malacha. There are no limits Above and hence, the first verse means that the malacha, meaning the Divine Source of all sources was sufficient. There was always enough. Malacha refers, thus, to Heavenly forces at work.

What that meant was that our people below donated whatever they donated, and built all that they built, but that we knew that our acts were not the real malacha. Our acts were the well intended, focused motions which were actually avoda. Drawing upon Divinely inspired inspiration and yearning to divine the Divine Will, or ratzon HaShem, our own mortal work was elevated to the level of serving HaShem. This is why the second verse (as well as the one from last week) distinguishes between malacha and avoda. Avoda means work that is done as a form of service.

If you think about this, we can learn from here about altering our perception by altering our perspective. There are many things that we labor on and work on: domestic chores, child care, parnasa, yard work (I confess that I spent part of last Sunday raking leaves) and we can get caught up in the monotony and the pressure and fail to see anything sacred or spiritual about our exertion. On the other hand, we can see our efforts in perspective, all as facets of working towards the service of HaShem. Domestic chores can facilitate a calmer home which might help promote better relationships. Child care is the way in which we prepare the next generation of good Jews. Earning a living can keep us honest and avail us with the means to do good things. Raking leaves can... well, I can tell you that as I finished doing that job, a friend brought his visiting Chassidishe rebbe by, who had a message for me. At least the front yard looked befitting for a person of his stature.

In so many ways, seeing our circumstances within their broader context, and developing a clearer, better perspective, can help us change our perception of events. Ordinary acts of malacha can transform us into agents of avoda. This is something to work on.

Good Shabbos. D Fox

A thought on Parshas Ki Sisa

"...va'yar es ha'egel u'mecholos...""...and he saw the calf, and the drums..." (32:19)

There was something about those drums which caught Moshe's eye. We know that Moshe had already heard the loud commotion going on down in the camp (verses 17 & 18.) There was wild recklessness and the roar of the crowd yet what catches his eye here is the drums.

What's with the drums? After all, there are many Biblical instruments - the horn, the lyre, the harp, the organ, the flute, tambourine, the trumpet, the cymbal, and the drum. These are cited at the end of Tehillim. Why the drum here?Now before you get snared in that question, Rabbeinu Bachya gives an interpretation which can't be beat. He reminds us that there are nine instruments cited at the very end of Tehillim. Dovid HaMelech beckons us to

"praise Him with the blast of the shofar... with lyre and harp...
with tambourine and drum...with organ and flute...with clanging
cymbals and blaring trumpets... (Psalm 150:3-5)

We know that the forms of musical instruments span the brass (such as the Biblical trumpets), the woodwinds (such as the Biblical organ), the winds (such as the Biblical flute), strings (such as the harp of the Bible), percussion (such as the cymbals) and timpani (such as those drums).

Amidst the cacophony and blasting down in the camp, why did Moshe focus on those drums? The verse seems to harp on them, horning in on the pounding of the drums as Moshe takes in the sight of the throngs of people below. The beat goes on as does the jeering and the shrieking of the crowd yet Moshe picks up on those drums. What did they cymbolize? Rabbeinu Bachya teaches us a lesson about the greatness of Moshe. Imagine a Rorschach inkblot test, which you have all heard about but may know little about. A person is shown an inkblot printed on a card, with no precise form or shape, hence an ambiguous stimulus. The person is asked to look at it and give his or her reactive impression. They may imagine that it looks like some object, or concept, or it reminds them of a particular idea, or person or animal or whatever. The skilled clinician studies the person's perceptual style and learns about what their "mind's eye" does as it guides their actual eye. Each person will associate to images which reveal something about their preoccupations, their attitudes, their biases, their moods, their internal ideas and drives and longings and how they structure or conceal them from awareness.

Moshe our Teacher looked and listened as the people went wild around the egel and when he saw the drum - the machol - he did what we do on Rosh HaShanna. We take a fruit or a vegetable with an ambiguous name (a name which sounds as if it has multiple meanings) and we make an association to some positive thought to which its sound alludes. Hence, we may take a turnip and say at the meal "may good things turn up for us this year" or we may take a pear and say "may we be regarded as pe'er (beauty) before HaShem" and so on (these are some of the creative simanim which we use in my home on Rosh HaShanna.)

Moshe saw the egel, he saw the defiant dancers, he heard the horns and organs and flutes and drums ... but what he saw were the drums. He saw the drums because the word for drum is machol and even as he looked at the egel and saw it, he also picked up on the machol and rather than associate to the sound of the machol, he associated to the sound of the word machol which sounds somewhat like the word mechila. Mechila means forgiveness. Moshe looked at the tragic scene but in his mind, the fact that he noticed the machol meant to him that from amidst this horrible sight could emerge forgiveness from HaShem to His nation. With that association, he ran down to the camp and proceeded to put together a remedy for the people, for those who would seek mechila in earnest.

We can take a lesson from this for ourselves. We must learn to look beyond the obvious, especially when times are tough for us. We can become ensnared and entrenched in stress but we can at times take inspiration from something incidental which may appear on our periphery. Sometimes, those fringe details or coincidental issues may contain the resource or the remedy or the solution, or just the inspiration to help us through. And if we are very great, we can even find amidst our difficult circumstances a tool which may later help us deal with, or better understand, someone else who may later have a related predicament.

Moshe may have been horrified at the grotesque scene at the foot of Mt. Sinai yet he saw a trace of hope somehow in the fact that one of the instruments was called a machol. He let this shift his perception of the event and alter his attitude. More importantly, he directed his response and actions accordingly so that from out of abject desecration would emerge Divine forgiveness.

Wishing you a joyful Shabbos with song and praise. D Fox