Sweeping up the Ashes

 Tzav

Lev. 6:1-8:36

 

Précis: The parasha begins with Adonai ordering Moses to command (“tzav”) Aaron and his sons concerning offerings. Requirements for the daily offerings, directions for the meal offerings, instructions for guilt-offerings and thanksgiving offerings are described. The parasha then describes the initial offerings of the Tabernacle made by Aaron and his sons following their consecration to priestly service by Moses.  

 

Lev. 6:3 “The priest shall dress in linen raiment, with linen breeches next to his body; and he shall take up the ashes to which the fire has reduced the burnt offering on the altar and place them beside the altar.”

                According to these requirements, as the first order of business each morning, the priest must dress in linen clothing (which was rather pedestrian compared to his usual raiment). So garbed, he sweeps up and discards the ashes left over from the previous day’s sacrificial fires. Why does the religious leader, dressed like a commoner, undertake a function that might seem more appropriate for the janitor?

I’ve suggested before that this was a form of what we might call “holy drudgery,” meaning that any work connected to the Mikdash or Temple (and by extension our synagogues) was holy. (There is even midrash suggesting that priests fought so strenuously over the chance to undertake this duty that eventually a lottery was used to select the ash-gatherer for the day.) There is a more esoteric explanation. When the priest dons ordinary clothing and sweeps up the ashes, he cannot forget a link to ordinary people who undertake mundane tasks.

Dressed in fancy robes and seeming to appear to the “common folk” as someone closer to God than the people could lead the priests to unwarranted self-satisfaction, or even the belief that they were somehow superior to other human beings, able to act without regard to the holiness of their responsibilities. There is a lesson for the current leaders of our society.

Singular and Plural

 Vayikra

Lev. 1:1 - 5:26

 

Précis: The title of the Third Book of the Torah, Vayikra (“And He called”) is usually translated as “Leviticus” in English, from its Septuagint (Greek) name, because much of the Book concerns ritual sacrifices performed under the auspices of the Levites.

            The introduction to this Book in Etz Hayim reminds us that the “central concern” of the ancient Israelites was “how they were to express their loyalty” to God. The answer from Vayikra: they were “to be holy, for I Adonai Your God, am holy.”   Etz Hayim also reminds us of the importance of ritual: “…[S]omething in the human soul responds to ritual, whether it be the formality of a traditional wedding or the rituals of a sporting event…”

            The sacrificial ritual in Vayikra is expressed in terms of actions which ended with the destruction of the Second Temple. While we often use the word “sacrifice” for the described rituals, the word has a deeper meaning in the Hebrew. “Korban” (offering or sacrifice) is from a root meaning “to draw closer.” The system of sacrifices (“korbanot”) was designed to allow the Israelites to “draw closer” to the Ineffable.

            With the end of the sacrificial system, the instructions of Vayikra for centuries remained an important area of study because of the belief that a restoration of the sacrificial cult would occur. Subsequently, we have tried to understand the underlying meaning behind those rituals in terms we can apply to our present lives.

 

Lev. 1:2 – “When any of you presents an offering of cattle to the Lord, he shall choose his offering g from the herd or from the flock.”

The first parasha of Vayikra includes an overview of the laws of sacrifice: the offerings of animals, fowl, meal, oil, and fruits. We have general descriptions of burnt offerings, sin offerings, peace offerings, offerings made by individuals, communal offerings, and offerings from common people, from rulers, and from priests.

As is noted in Etz Hayyim, the opening words in the Hebrew are singular, but the Torah soon shifts to the plural. This suggests the core of the religious experience. A Hasidic teacher taught that we enter a synagogue as individuals but that the experience of worshipping together leads us to go beyond our separateness and become part of a community. It is not just a Rabbinic dictum which demands that certain prayers can only be recited in the presence of a minyan. This is an essential tenet of our religious life: while we may certainly engage in Jewish worship individually, it is only when a community comes together that true belonging can take place.