Parshas Shemini - a thought on the first Rashi

And Moses said to Aaron, "Approach the altar and perform your sin offering and your burnt offering, atoning for yourself and for the people, and perform the people's sacrifice, atoning for them, as the Lord has commanded.		ז. וַיֹּאמֶר משֶׁה אֶל אַהֲרֹן קְרַב אֶל הַמִּזְבֵּחַ וַעֲשֵׂה אֶת חַטָּאתְךָ וְאֶת עֹלָתֶךָ וְכַפֵּר בַּעַדְךָ וּבְעַד הָעָם וַעֲשֵׂה אֶת קָרְבַּן הָעָם וְכַפֵּר בַּעֲדָם כַּאֲשֶׁר צִוָּה יְהֹוָה:
Approach the altar: [Moses had to order Aaron to do so,] because Aaron was bashful and afraid to approach [the altar]. So Moses said to him: “Why are you ashamed? For this [function] you have been chosen!” - [Torath Kohanim 9:7]

The beginning of Parsha Shimini describes Aaron's, and his sons', first day on the job as the Cohanim for the nation of Israel.

This was not Aaron’s first day in the limelight. Aaron was the leader of the nation of Israel before Moshe and, on HaShem’s instructions, Aaron went with Moshe to Pharaoh each time that Moshe demanded the release of Israel from the Egyptian slavery.  Aaron was a man who was accustomed to leadership positions and when Moshe went up to Har Sinai to receive the Torah, Aaron was left to lead Israel. However, it was also under Aaron's leadership that Israel committed one of the nation’s worst sins, the sin of the Golden Calf.  Although Aaron tried to stop this great transgression, he failed and the Golden Calf was created. 

Why was Moshe required to say, or according to Rashi - to order, Aaron to approach the altar and perform his tasks?  Why did Aaron hesitate to perform his job?  Rabbi Davis on his commentary on Rashi says that Aaron was afraid to approach the mizbeach (altar), in the mishkan (tabernacle), because he failed to prevent the creation of the Golden Calf. Moshe had to urge Aaron to fulfill his task in life  - the role of the Cohen Gadol.

So too by us. We may fail at times in a given task, but we must continue to fufill our purposes in life – no matter how many obstacles are placed in our way. We must remember that a winner is not judged by how many times he falls but by how many times he gets up. Even Aaron fell yet we know that he was a winner because ultimately he arose to fulfill his role on earth. May we all learn the fortitude exemplified by Aaron and continue to arise in spite of the periodic failures we experience.  

Guest posting by Michael Garber
President, Congregation Ohav Emeth
Highland Park, NJ
and an aspiring botanist

What we call it, how we see it - a thought for Passover

In his Haggadah, Rabbi Yitzchak Mirsky notes a puzzling aspect of the holyday we are about to start. Throughout the Torah, the holiday is referred to as “The Festival of Matzos” (see, for instance: Exodus 23:21, Leviticus 23:6, and Deuteronomy 16:16). Yet we commonly refer to the holiday with the title used in the Talmud, Pesach or Passover. Why do we use the latter title and not the initial, Torah-designated one?

Rabbi Mirsky answers, citing Rabbi Levi Yitzchak of Berditchev, that the titles reflect mutual admiration. When God uses the title of “Festival of Matzos” in the Torah He authored, He is referencing the fact that the Jewish people were willing to follow God’s command and leave Egypt, venturing into a wilderness without sufficient provisions – save for the half-baked loaves of Matzos. God admires us for this remarkable level of devotion and faith so He calls the holyday, “The Festival of Matzos.” On the other hand, in the Talmud authored by the Rabbis and in common discourse, we reference the fact that God passed over the houses of the Jews in order to exact punishment on the Egyptians. We are eternally grateful for God’s protection of us and His punishment of our cruel slavemasters. So we employ the holyday name that reflects our affection for His many kindnesses, “Passover.”

Parshas Tzav - thoughts on the Olah offering

Our Parasha opens: “Command [Tzav] Aharon and his sons saying: this is the law of the Burnt Offering
[‘Olah], which is the Burnt Offering upon its firewood upon the altar all night until the morning, and the fire of the altar shall burn by it.”

Writes Rashi: “the use of ‘Tzav’ can only mean ‘Zeiruz’ – encouragement, both for the moment, and for generations to come.  Says Rabbi Shimon: the Torah particularly needs encouragement in a place where there is financial loss.”

What is this “financial loss” that requires Moshe to encourage Aharon and his sons?  The Sifre, from which Rabbi Shimon quotes, says this is a case where the Cohen does not receive the customary economic benefit.  The common priestly portions are not handed out.  Only the hide of the animal is presented to the Cohanim serving in the rotation where the Olah is brought. 

The Olah is an extreme, total sacrifice, so all-encompassing that it is brought on the part of all peoples – Jews and non-Jews alike.  It is a purely spiritual offering to a purely spiritual being.  A mind-meld with the Divine.

The Cohanim in the Beit Ha Mikdash were like factory workers in shifts, standing for hours each day dispatching animals and birds for long lines of clients.  The job was demanding, but they were paid decently, and they worked in rotations giving them more time off than on.

Moshe’s “Tzav” to the Cohanim is a Zeiruz – encouragement – an assurance both immediate and everlasting.  Go with enthusiasm to bring this Korban for which you receive no payment, Moshe tells Aharon and his sons.  For this is the heart of your Service, Moshe tells them, the fundamental part that you will exhort future generations of Cohanim to embrace with the same enthusiasm.  The laws specifying compensation for the Cohanim are very explicitly laid out – so much so, one might be led to focus more on the paycheck than on the work itself.  The Olah is the daily act of pure Service, it is spiritual calisthenics, preparing the Cohen to serve both God and his fellow Jews – for both God and Klal Israel rely on the Cohen to make the relationship whole.

The flame of the Olah burns all night until at last it consumes the offering.  Similarly, the Ba’al Ha-Tanya compares the Soul that yearns to reconnect with God to a burning flame – one that burns itself out in a bright flash as it attains its goal.  The Olah is a reminder to the Cohanim, a daily ritual that is both respite and challenge.  Here is your opportunity to step out of your professional role and connect directly with God, LiShma.  Here is the challenging moment of your day, when you are required to step out of your professional role and connect directly with God, LiShma.  Not just now, but for all generations. 

The constant challenge of bringing pure Kedusha into our daily routine exists for all of us through all our generations.  For us, and for our leaders. 

As we strive to connect with Ha-Kadosh Baruch Hu, let us also recognize and acknowledge the leaders of our community who face a double challenge – and they face it each day, and gladly – with Zerizut.  They must perform Avodah on our behalf – inspiring us spiritually, teaching us, exhorting us to be the very best we can become.  And they must rise to that same spiritual challenge themselves, reaching to connect with God.  The Rabbis in our shuls, teachers and administrators in our day schools, and countless individuals who constantly volunteer to perform a range of mind-numbing tasks, all to benefit the community – these people are likewise challenged each day to pause and reach out themselves, to connect passionately and deeply with Ha-Kadosh Baruch Hu.  They are our own Cohanim, always here to help and support us.  And who among us offers spiritual and emotional support to them?

The words “Thank you” are so very powerful, and yet so rarely expressed. 

Yours for a better world.

A guest posting by

Rabbi Moshe Silver

Highland Park, NJ 

Parshas Tzav – A thought on the first Rashi

“And Adonoy spoke to Moshe, saying: Command Aharon and his sons, saying: This is the law of the burnt offering. It is the burnt offering [which remains] on its pyre on the altar all night, until the morning, and the fire on the altar will be kept burning on it.”

~ VaYikra 6:1-2

Command Aharon. There is no [use of the expression] Tzav [in English, ‘command’] except when there is a sense of urging, immediately and for future generations. Rabbi Shimon said: It is all the more necessary for the Torah to urge [the fulfillment of a command] when it involves monetary loss.

~ Rashi on VaYikra 6:1-2

In his footnotes on this Rashi, Rabbi Avrohom Davis explains that (according to Rashi) HaShem employed the word Tzav, denoting a particular imperative, in recognition that the Kohanim did not receive any meat from the burnt offering, only the skin. In light of the fact that their service in this regard resulted in little benefit, they needed a distinct prompting.

People feel a willingness to give in different ways. Some are more comfortable sharing their money, others freely give their time, while still others more readily share their attention or feelings with their friends, family, and neighbors. While in this week’s parsha the word 'Tzav' is very directed and specific, the message can be applied more broadly – when a mitzvah opportunity presents itself, and you have the means to do it, yet it falls out of your comfort area of ‘giving’... consider seriously if you are facing your own personal ‘Tzav’ moment.

Parshas VaYikra – A thought on the first Rashi

“And He (God) called to Moshe.”
VaYikra 1:1

 

“From all (parshios beginning with) ‘God spoke with Moshe,’ and all (parshios beginning with) ‘God said to Moshe’ and all commands (before which) a ‘calling’ preceded – these are expressions of love, an expression which the angels use, as it is said “ One called to the other.” (Yeshayoh 6:3). But to the gentile nations He revealed himself with an expression of happenstance and uncleanness, as it is said, “God happened upon Bilaam.” (Bamidbar 23:4).

 

Prophecy is no longer an element in Divine/human interaction and we are left far less aware of and sensitive to God’s will in the world as a result of this void. And yet … spiritually oriented people can, even now, detect God’s presence in the world. We can see His hand when viewing a vast expanse of nature; the healing of a very sick friend or family member; in the comfort given to a suffering person  from friends, neighbors, their own internal fortitude, or from unexpected circumstances;  in the mercy a gravely ill person receives through a quick end to their pain; and in a fortunate turn of history or individual circumstance. There are even those who can see God's hand in prolonged, inexplicable suffering, though this is a steep challenge for most of us 'regular' mortals (myself included).

 

The challenge in these instances is to absorb the glimpses of God into our worldview and to accept them not just as the broader phenomenon but also as a small personal revelation – when I notice God’s actions, God is (so to speak) calling to me too. If we fail to appreciate the personal revelation that our awareness of God’s presence signifies, we risk reducing the observation to a happenstance. And that can diminish not only our own experience but also our perception of God’s power.  

Parshas VaYaKeil-Pekudei - a thought on the first Rashi

Vayakhel Moshe Es Kol Adas Bnei Yisroel.... And Moshe gathered the entire Assembly of the Children of Israel...." (Shemos 35:1). Rashi responds to his (as always, silent) question - "When did this take place?" by indicating it was on the day after Yom Kippur, when Moshe had returned for the second time with the luchos. The Ramban focuses more on the portion of the phrase "Kol Adas Benei Yisroel" to point out that Moshe assembled the entire congregation (both men and women) because they were about to embark on a new portion of Jewish history reunited with HaShem much as a young couple embarks on its new married life in a state of emotional closeness.

The Kli Yakar offers a unique insight that might well be the combination of these two views. He points out that Rashi explains in Parshat Yisro that Moshe also sat as a judge of Bnei Yisroel on the day after Yom Kippur. The Kli Yakar suggests that Moshe had a new and special need (here in Parshat Vayakhel) to gather and speak to Bnei Yisroel - the building of the Mishkan. It appears the Kli Yakar holds this gathering of Bnei Yisroel took place immediately after Yom Kippur because Moshe needed to stress that the sanctity of the Mishkan could not be impaired by the use of stolen property, and the only way to make sure only proper materials were used, each person would need to ask themselves whether the property they intended to donate or use in the construction of the Mishkan was really theirs and not just in their possession but really the property of another person.

Just like Moshe sat in judgment of property claims following Yom Kippur (as related in Parshat Yisro) Moshe gathered Bnei Yisroel here after Yom Kippur to make sure no one would donate or use property that did not belong to them when the Mishkan was built. Pulling in the perspective of the Ramban, the Kli Yakar offers that the clarification of property rights could best be accomplished immediately after Yom Kippur when all the Jewish people had just come through the (joint) passage of teshuvah.

Vayakhel Moshe Es Kol Adas Bnei Yisroel. - Seven words (if you count the "Es") Six if you don't, and our Mephorshim offer multiple lessons through their explanation of the words of the Torah. From these few words, we learn the importance of close emotional bonds (with one another and with HaShem), the sanctity of the Mishkan and how important it is to respect the property rights of our fellow Jews, and perhaps the hardest lesson of all, that Moshe recognized we are ripe for learning and accepting these lessons perhaps only on the day after Yom Kippur, when we are in the mood to be careful with our fellow Jews. Room for improvement? You bet. Hopefully the lessons in these few words can bring us to the point where we can wake up every day with concern for the sanctity of our fellow Jews property and regard for one another with the care and affection of a newly married couple.

Guest posting by
David Katzenstein