A thought on Parshas Vayikra

"...lifnei HaShem...""...before HaShem..." (1:3)

In giving instructions about the sacrificial avoda, the Torah gives precise details as to the steps we must take, the objects and implements, their size and design, and the location and setting in which each event is to take place. However, there is a vague and recurrent theme in our parsha about how the offerings are to be prepared "before HaShem." Now, given that the sacred mishkan and the mikdash shrines are the veritable houses of HaShem, ka'vayochol, this description seems unnecessary. Isn't the entire location "before HaShem?" Doesn't everything every place happen before Him? What does this expression, then, refer to and how do we understand it?The Ralbag helps: if we study the processes involved in avoda, we see that every step which was significant, which was a gesture of sacred offering, took place in a westerly direction. The holiest places within the walls of the mishkan were toward the western quadrant. This is because the east is where the sun comes up. In the ancient world, there was a distorted belief that the sun was a sacred power, rather than a luminous creation empowered by the Divine to light up the skies. People worshipped the sun. They offered sacrifices to it. In the mishkan, we turned away from the sun in performing the avoda. We engaged in the dignified service with our backs turned to the sun, facing west. We even see that in the twice-daily offering known as the tamid that the morning one was brought to the western side, away from the rising sun, and the evening tamid was brought to the eastern side, away from the setting sun. Turning away from the sun is a means of demonstrating that we are directing our internal focus, as well as our overt behavior, away from beliefs which are antagonistic to our understanding of HaShem's universe.

In that sense, then, the Torah emphasizes that the most sacred of the avoda steps are performed "towards HaShem" (lifenei HaShem), which signifies that our acts must always symbolize that we shun any semblance of primitive pagan practices which would appear to bestow honor onto the lowly creations which are inanimate and unempowered to help or to harm us. In the sacred service of HaShem, we demonstrate through deed, through thought and intentionality, and through symbolic gesture that our devotion is focused before, "towards", and in the Presence of HaShem Echad.

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From time to time, I offer a question to those who learn these parsha thoughts, and invite you to email your own ideas. Ponder this: with all that the Ralbag has taught us here, how do we understand the universal Jewish practice of facing the east when we say our amida tefillos? I look forward to your submissions, and will plan to email out a digest of your thoughts in a few weeks, as I have done in years past.

East Side, West Side, have a good Shabbos.

A thought on Parshas Vayakhel Pikudei

"...b'yom ha'chodesh ha'rishon b'echad la'chodesh takim es mishkan..."
"...on the first day of the first month you shall erect the Shrine..." (40:2)

 

After much work and preparation, the mishkan was complete and ready to be constructed. The Torah announces this here, and in verse 17, we read about the fait accompli.

 

A difficult nuance of our verse, however, is its opening words. B'yom ha'chodesh ha'rishon means "on the day of the first month." The later clause, b'echad la'chodesh means "on the first of the month." Not only does this repetition seem superfluous; could not the Torah have merely written "b'chodesh ha'rishon b'echad la'chodesh" and we would know that this event occurred on the first day of the first month? What is this term "b'yom ha'chodesh"?

 

The Ralbag interprets: we know that the first month is Nissan, as we learned in parshas Bo(12:2). The significance of Nissan, however, is more than it being the first month. It is also a rosh ha'shanna, one of the "new-year landmarks" of the Jewish calendar. Part of its new-year status rests in its being the anniversary of this very event, the inauguration of the mishkan. 

 

Now, one might wonder, since there are a number of "new-year" landmarks during the Jewish year, with the most prominent one being the first of Tishre, which we all know as "Rosh HaShanna," wouldn't the auspicious time to inaugurate the mishkan be during that month, which heralds so many beginnings?

 

The Ralbag explains that the more appropriate month for the establishment of this Sacred Shrine can only be Nissan, for this is when the sun seems closest to the earth, this is when the plants and produce are reborn, and this is when life is joyful. In other words, this is the time when creation is rejuvenated, and the cycle of life is given a new start. This is what the mishkanrepresented: it symbolized man’s renewed effort to restore its closeness with the Above. It was very much a “Nissan” event. And, the Torah tells us, this month of renewal is what months (chodesh) are all about – renewal of our connection, a new day for humanity.

 

Thus, the first of Nissan, when the sun appears to draw closer, comprises “the day” of “the Month.” It is the dawning of a new mode of being, a way of establishing a link between ourselves and Shomayim by way of the mishkan. We might now read the verse as “on the “Day Month”, the first one, beginning with the first day…”

 

This year, as we greet the month of Nissan, we will also declare this shift in our attention and focus. This year, after twenty-eight years of waiting, we will recite the Birchas HaChamma, the blessing wherein we praise HaShem for His Creation, when once again the sun and the earth are aligned in the mode which was present during that first time of creation. The sun will be close, the plants will blossom, and the Jewish nation will prepare to rejoice with song and prayer.

 

Good Shabbos, D. Fox

A thoght on Parshas Ki Sisa

"...koran or panav...""...Moshe's face radiated..." (33:30)

Many interpretations have been offered regarding the glow associated with Moshe's face. When he descended from Mt. Sinai, his face shone, and when he spoke to the people, he masked this (verse 32).

The Ralbag offers the idea that the physical body, including the skin, is a shield which hides the deeper and loftier aspects of human functioning, namely the soul and, ideally, the mind. The more that we are involved with our physical selves, the less apparent are the spiritual features within a person. Moshe had spent forty days aloft the mountain, and beyond. All the while, his physical needs diminished and the Torah describes how he neither ate nor drink (or needed to).

The Ralbag explains that this utter devotion, the immersion in the realm of the spirit, made Moshe's physical "shield" diminish in prominence. His body became permeable, and as a result, one could see the workings of his very mind and soul. This meant that his internal focus and functioning virtually bypassed his diminished sensory self. Not only did he not feel the body senses; his spiritual process pervaded his physical appearance. When looking at Moshe, one saw radiance. One saw the glow of the mind at work beneath the skin.

In turn, the Ralbag understands, the "mask" which Moshe "put on" when speaking to the nation was not a mask. He did not put anything on. Rather, he would make an effort to pull himself away from his intense communion with the word of HaShem. This effort he made was a struggle, a sacrifice, to dim some of his higher consciousness in order to address the needs of the people. Thus, he would intentionally "mask" his intense devotion in order to interact with those who needed him.

The Ralbag compares this to how you and I may be struggling with some inner agenda of great personal importance. Even when we are sitting down to eat and drink, we find it hard to break away and stop thinking. Our appetite can fade when we are in the middle of an important inquiry. This was the struggle which Moshe encountered in his engagement with the Divine. He had to struggle to loosen his rapture when having to face the nation.

Shine on and have a good Shabbos. D Fox

A thought on Parshas Titzaveh

"...l'rei'ach ni'cho'ach l'HaShem..."
"...a pleasing fragrance for HaShem..." (29:41)

The ritual order in the mikdash and the garments and procedures have been described in both this week's parsha and in Terumah, which we studied last week. The image which the Torah gives about the sacrificial offerings is a sensory image, with this frequently repeated phrase about "rei'ach ni'cho'ach." It is important to gain perspective on this notion that HaShem would regard the offerings as a pleasing fragrance, or as emanating a aroma that was satisfying. We always run from imagery which might imply any corporeal quality to the Divine, yet the Torah itself depicts the offerings as "a pleasing fragrance for HaShem." Somehow, that does not smell quite right...

The Ralbag takes the position that the verse means something different. Picture this: day after day, the kohen is clad in his ritual garb, attentive to the details of the avoda, where timing and precision are essential, and utter devotion to the rules is imperative. That is a lot of work. That is a lot concentration. The mind is channeled into following the structure of the service, and the body is driven to perform that service swiftly and exactly.

That intensity can become cerebral, and physical, for it is demanding on both of those facets of the kohen's skill. Yet, it still needs to be a "religious experience." HaShem is involved with this service, for it is to Him that we call out in our many forms of shares and avoda (as we learned two weeks ago on Parshas Mishpatim). With intensity comes the risk of losing sight of the objective. Whom we serve is as important as how we serve. The kohen needs to use this daily process as a means of growing and developing in his personal connection with the Divine. He is serving as an agent for whomever has offered the sacrifice, but it is his own task to utilize his avoda as a personal and spiritual means of communicating with the Above.

It is for this reason, suggests the Ralbag, that the verse encourages the kohen to take note of the fragrance. It is a rich and pleasing fragrance. He is not supposed to hold his breath and cannot, while serving, hold his nose (for the Talmudists out there, ponder Talmud Bavli Pesachim 26a). This is why the Torah says that amidst all of the ritual, the kohen should also notice that what he is doing is generating a nice fragrance. That sensory jolt is a means of pushing his focus upward, to be cognizant of HaShem. The verse, thus, is to be read as,
"l'rei'ach ni'cho'ach...l'HaShem: a pleasing fragrance to direct the kohen to HaShem."

The emphasis here is not that the fragrance is "for HaShem" but for the kohen to direct his inner focus towards HaShem. The Ralbag adds that earlier (28:35) when we hear about the bells which tingle on the robe of the kohen gadol, we learn the same theme. While there are a number of views in the mefarshim rishonim (covered in my parsha thoughts a number of years ago), the Ralbag opines that when we ponder the question of "for whom those bells toll", the answer is that they toll for the kohen gadol. Amidst his highly focused ritual, he too needs a reminder of where to direct his focus. He is given an audible jolt to focus inward, and then direct his avoda above and beyond.

When we recite our prayers, and we sway and chant, we too may need an occasional jolt in order to determine the ascendant direction we need adopt in channeling our avoda. This Shabbos is a fine time to try this. Have a fragrant and good Shabbos. D Fox