A thought on פרשת שמיני

"...ויקרהבו לפני ה' אש..."
"...and they offered fire before HaShem..." (10:1)

The incident involving Nadav and Avihu, who were punished for entering unbidden into the Holy Temple with a fire offering, is a very demanding passage. So much has been written in analysis of their motivations, their error and its consequences. They were men of great spiritual stature who voluntarily brought forth an offering, drawing nearer to the Shrine where HaShem's Divine Presence was sensed. What happened there? What went wrong?The Recanati directs his focus towards a different issue. Beyond analyses of their plan and motivation, he addresses the act itself. What did Nadav and Avihu offer?

Basing his interpretation on a careful reading of the verses, with attention to the Zohar here, the Recanati notes that these two Kohanim, sons of Aharon, brought forth incense. Sweet smelling scents rose above in a transformation of solid to vapor. The smoke of the ketores serves as a symbol that our nation is poised to make transformation. It represents our plea and request that any strict decree or impending measure of din be rescinded.

Incense is different than a sacrificial offering. A korban is substance, material. It may be of animal or grain origin but it has form and quantity. Such an offering is precisely that - it is something which is "offered" in homage to and service of HaShem. It proclaims in concrete as well as in symbolic terms that we acknowledge HaShem's majesty and dominion.

In the abstract, a sacrifice is the gift which announces that "HaShem, we know that You are there." The incense is the quiet request which follows, hinting that "HaShem, we are here."

When Nadav and Avihu ventured forth, they came with a "request." They sought to intervene on behalf of the nation, on behalf of themselves, by coming near with fragrant petition. They did not initiate that request with a formal offering, however. They asked for something without first making a declarative greeting in the form of a sacrificial offering. It would be like approaching a king and without saluting, bending knee or head, or greeting him with words of praise and proffering a gift, to simply start telling the king what you need from him.

The Recanati suggests that before one can make supplication asking that din be set aside, it is important to acknowledge that din may well be deserved. Had Nadav and Avihu brought forth such an acknowledging offering to the King, it is possible that the Divine response to the incense-plea would have been one of favor, of mercy. Instead, the response from Above was undiluted din. No steps had been taken in advance to address that din. The entire nation then saw a manifestation of Divine Might and Power, where there might have been a sense of awe and closeness instead.

In our own lives, the Recanati says, we have a rule, a halacha which expresses this same principle of "korban before incense": Chazal composed our prayer liturgy as a parallel to the sacrificial services. They placed a blessing just before the Amida prayer, which we know as "Go'al Yisroel" - HaShem is the Only Redeemer of Israel. That blessing is referred to as "Ge'ula," the declaration of HaShem's Redemptive Majesty. We have a halacha that one must be very careful to begin the Amida immediately upon declaring Go'al Yisroel. This is known as positioning Ge'ula l'Tefilla.

The Recanati explains that the declaration of Ge'ula is like a coronation of HaShem. It is our way of asserting that we acknowledge His Majesty. He is our King, we offer this up verbally via that praise. It is at that very moment when we are then supposed to begin our pleading and asking. We transition from the "offering" into the "incense." We must not distance the two. Once we accept that HaShem Alone is our One Lord, we must turn to Him with our pleading, demonstrating that He is One, He is The One, and He is the Only One we can turn to.

In closing, I note that in Anim Zemiros, we capture this same thought!
Tehillasi tehi l"Roshcha ateres, u'tefilasi tikon ketores -
May my praise be a crown for Your head,
and may my prayer be accepted as incense.

Wishing you a good, fragrant Shabbos. D Fox

A thought on Parshas Tzav

"...zos toras ha'olah...""...these are the laws of the burnt offering..." (6:2)

Of the many offerings brought in the Temple, the korban olah or "burnt offering" may be the one that sounds most familiar. Even in English parlance, we use the term "burnt offering" to refer to something well intended and given selflessly. Yet, of all the sacrificial offerings, it is this olah which seems most intriguing. It is brought to the altar, thoroughly incinerated and left to burn there overnight. No one partakes of it. It vanishes in a cloud of soot and smoke.

The Recanati offers some Zoharic perspective on this. You may have noted that we recite some verses from Tehillim (36:7) on most Shabbos afternoons near the close of mincha. After extolling HaShem for His righteous judgment, we close with the thought, "odom u'beheima toshia HaShem" - G-d, You save the people and the beasts.

You may have wondered about those words. What is the reference, why is there a reference, to saving animals? What does that have to do with HaShem and His righteous judgment? This is not PETA or the ASPCA. This is Dovid HaMelech authoring the words of prayers which our people have said, and will say, for centuries.

The Recanati writes that when a person brings forth an olah offering, he signifies that this life, this world, is not the terminus for reality. There is life as we experience it, and there is the higher life known as the eventual or Olam HaBa'ah. Now, living here on earth, we are limited. We are restricted to living with our present form, our present consciousness, and our current experience of reality. That is why it is known as "Olam HaZeh" - this world, because it is the one we can observe and experience and claim as "this."

We cannot live in the World to Come. We cannot get there, we do not have access, and we are not ready for it. That is, we are not ready for it unless we really want to be ready for it. The Torah Jew thinks about the World to Come. He understands that it is the true terminus, the place where the soul and spirit will unite in an eternal recognition of the Above. In that sense, that is where a Jew really belongs, eternally devoted to the realm of the spirit.

The korban olah is an expression of this yearning. A person brings that offering and signifies that whereas he lives here, in this world, and leads a this- world existence, he nonetheless struggles to live a that-world life. He aims for a higher plane of reality. Thus, he brings forth an offering which is entirely devoted to the service of the Above. It must totally disappear. It must ascend in its entirety. It stays on the altar until it is gone.

That offering is a declaration of our recognition of our bicameral purpose. We are here with our mission to complete in this life and we are here as a prelude to the World to Come. The verse in Psalms is a reference to this. HaShem will save the person who is aware of the toras ha'olah. That person, through, the offering of this animal, will merit salvation in this life and in the next. This is why, writes the Recanati, the olah is called kodesh kadoshim - the holy of the holy. It points to a person who aims to sanctify his life here, and who seeks a life of sanctity eternally.

Good Shabbos. D Fox

A thought on פרשת ויקרא

"...יקריב אתו לרצונו לפני ה'..."
"...he shall bring the sacrifice voluntarily before HaShem..." (1:3)

Our Parsha opens with instructions for those who bring forth offerings to HaShem. It is clear that each person must offer his or her sacrifice willingly, as the word "offering" implies. Those who seek atonement, for example, come forth because they are indeed seeking that Divine response. Hence, the word li'rtzono - from the word ratzon or willful desire, seems unnecessary. By definition, one who is bringing an offering desires to do so, willfully. Why does the Torah add this word in our verse?The Recanati offers a surprising interpretation. He reminds us that Yeshayahu HaNavi (60:7) gives us HaShem's words about the times to come, when many will flock to the Temple in Jerusalem, bringing a multitude of offerings. HaShem says that these offerings ya'alu al ratzon mizbechi - will ascend upon My ratzon altar. Apparently, the sacrificial altar in the great Temple, and in the mishkan, was known as ratzon.It was called the place of Divine will, or desire.

What does that mean? The Recanati expounds: Shlomo HaMelech in Shir HaShirim uses the allegory of a young groom and his bride in depicting the interactive relationship between HaShem ka'va'yachol and our nation. In one verse (5:1), the young man says, "I came into the garden of my bride and I ate there." Now, you might ponder, why would HaShem be depicted with such elementary human attributes such as sniffing fragrances, sipping wine and eating delicacies?

The Recanati draws from the holy Zohar in explaining that when a king goes to visit a friend, even though the friend's home may be beneath his dignity, the king will go there as a gesture of love for his friend. In many places, the Torah depicts simple and mundane scenes and objects as the "places" where Divine encounters occurred. This is the parable of the groom in the bride's garden. Even though the image is, to quote the Zohar, not fit for the King, HaShem the King is in essence allowing His Name to be used for our sake.

We often wonder about the sacrifices, the incense, the libations and the meal offerings. We are clear that HaShem does not eat, inhale, drink or nibble on them. Yet, they comprise such a vast segment of Torah, and Jewish tradition, that we must try to understand more about them.

The Recanti emphasizes that the Torah utilizes the substance of these offerings and their accompanying images of being fragrant and pleasing Above because we need these concepts since we can relate to them at a human level. It is as if HaShem is allowing us to envision the ritual in terms which are real to us. This is the food and fragrance symbolism. This is the allegory of the groom visiting the bride's garden. And this is why the mizbeach altar was known as the ratzon, the place of desire. Even though the offerings served our needs and were for our sake, HaShem allows this process to be described as "pleasing" for Him, and fulfilling His will. The altar, thus, had a sort of nickname, the Ratzon. As our verse declares, offering are brought voluntarily and are offered forth as if they are a means of fulfilling something that people would associate with will and desire. The verse can thus be translated, "he shall bring the offering to the ratzon, in the Presence of HaShem."

Where there is a willingness, there is a Willingness. Wishing you a good Shabbos. D Fox

A thought on פרשת פקודי

"...ki anan HaShem al ha'mishkan yomam v'eish ti'yeh laila bo ..."

"...the cloud of HaShem's Presence would be over the Mishkan
by day, and the fire was there by night..." (35:38)

The Recanati writes that the Ohel, the inner tent of the Mishkan, was covered by the cloud, which signified the Divine Presence. The Tent would be concealed by the cloud as the Divine Presence would fill the Mishkan. This was a replica of the Scene at Sinai, where it was as if the Heavens made contact with Earth at the pinnacle of that peak at the moment of Matan Torah. Unlike Matan Torah, where Moshe ascended and entered a zone somewhere between the material world and the Higher Realm, a once in a lifetime, once in the history of creation event never to be repeated, the "union of the Above and the worldly" which took place in the Mishkan was not a zone which could be entered, even by Moshe Rabbeinu. This is why the verses here tell us that Moshe could not enter the Tent or Mishkan at those times. The Mishkan served as a sort of replica of Har Sinai, yet the entire nation (including Moshe) could only wait at its brink until the cloud lifted.

The cloud would rest there by day. The column of fire would hover by night. The Recanati tells us that these images also signify a higher aspect of HaShem's relationship with His world. "Day" refers to middas yom, which is HaShem's endless kindness. "Night" refers to middas laila, which is HaShem's manifest attribute of justice, din. By day, meaning, when we have a clear vision, we become more mindful of the goodness which HaShem bestows upon His people. At night, meaning, when we are not clear about what our experience means, we can become more aware of the apparent din or strictness with which HaShem seems to deal with us.

Even when the world is embraced with Divine rachamim, however, we cannot see its fullness. The ban placed on Moshe, and on the nation, of venturing into the Mishkan when the cloud was present, signifies that there might appear to be strictness, as in that prohibition, despite the true reality that kindness is present. This teaches us that it is our own cloudy consciousness which confuses the nature of what is rachamim and what is din. In truth, the Fire of Night is infused with rachamim even though night is middas laila.

Time is a human invention, a natural cycle built into the universe in order to serve people. This is why we demarcate day and night. In the highest realm, however, night and day are only metaphors for Divine attributes which may appear to us as opposing forces. There is utter unity Above, and HaShem is the Source of endless kindness. The only limitations are our own.

Good Shabbos. D Fox