8 is Enough

Sh’mini

Leviticus 9:1-11:47

Précis:  On the final day of the seven day ordination ceremony Moses instructs Aaron and his sons on the proper rituals. Aaron makes his offering. Aaron’s sons Nadab and Abihu offer “strange” fire before God. They are slain. Moses tells Aaron that he must not engage in the normal mourning rituals. The Priests are prohibited from drinking alcohol while they are engaged in their sacred duties.  Next, God tells Moses and Aaron to instruct the people about the animals they are permitted to eat (part of the laws of kashrut). A general warning to guard against defilement and to be concerned about ritual purity is given.

Exodus 9:1: “And it came to pass on the eighth day, that Moses called Aaron and his sons, and the elders of Israel...”

               

Numbers have significance in the Jewish tradition. This is a point underscored by the importance of “four” in our recent Passover celebration: four cups of wine, four sons, four reasons for our Deliverance, and the four Mothers of “Who knows One?”

               

Usually, the number seven is considered to be our most significant number, as it represents the days of creation (and therefore the days of the week). We count seven weeks between Pesach and Shavuot. Every seventh year is a sabbatical year, and after 7 sabbatical years, we observe the Jubilee year. In this parasha, we see that it takes seven days to initiate the Priests before they are allowed to make sacrifices at the altar. According to biblical tradition, the festivals were seven days (expanded to 8 days for those living outside of the Land of Israel). Seven seems to be, according to our tradition, a representation of wholeness or finality. But if seven means completeness, what are we to make of “eight?”

               

This week we read a parasha with the Hebrew name of “eight” (sh’mini). Eight seems to be a day of beginnings. It's on the eighth day that sacrifices are started after the ordination of the priests. The work of creation ends and a new realm of existence begins. A week ends with Havdalah, and we look forward to the new opportunities and challenges in the week ahead. Eight are the days we count before a brit milah: it is a time of newness and a beginning, as the baby boy is brought into union with the Jewish People.

               

Eight may indeed be a hopeful number; but remember that our reading this week tells us about the death of Aaron’s sons. Something new may not necessarily be wonderful. Everything that is new is not for the best. On the other hand, just as we are commanded to observe the Shabbat, we are also commanded to labor on the other six days. The 8th day is the first day of labor, with its possibilities of reward or disappointment. How we handle the transition to the new is our weekly challenge.

Counting the Omer

On the Shabbat which takes place during Passover, we chant a section from the Book of Exodus (33:12-34:26). There, we read the story of Moses, who comes down from Mount Sinai and, seeing the Israelites dancing before the Golden Calf, shatters the Tablets on which are inscribed the Ten Commandments. He goes back up the mountain and returns 40 days later with a second set. 

In a slight departure from my usual weekly message, instead of reviewing the Torah reading for this coming Shabbat, I wanted to offer a comment about an activity we began on the second day of Pesach, counting the omer.

We count forty nine days between Passover and Shavuot, a period we call the “omer.” An omer is a measure (like a bushel) of grain, and the name is derived from the commandment to count the days between Passover (when an omer of barley was presented at the Temple Altar) to Shavuot (when an omer of wheat was offered). During this period, we go from one harvest to another, as early spring merges into early summer. 

Traditionally, this period also marks the time the Israelites spent from the Exodus from Egypt to Revelation at Sinai, so the “omer” has both agricultural and religious overtones.

A third aspect, rabbinic in origin, is that the period of the omer is considered to be one of mourning, in memory of a Divine plague that killed 24,000 students of Rabbi Akiva, because of their failure to honor each other respectfully. Lag B'omer, the thirty-third day of the omer period, is thought to be the day when the plague was lifted, so on that day we have a brief respite for celebration.

There is a connection between these three aspects of the omer: anxiety and fear. First, we begin to pray daily for dew (in the Land of Israel) on Passover, at the beginning of the omer, since the raint season has come to an end. This reminds us of the anxiety that the farmers felt: whether the rains needed for their Shavuot harvests would come.  Anxiety is also reflected in the Israelites’ perilous trip from Egypt to Sinai. Third, the fear of plague which led to the deaths of the scholars underscores an anxious sense of Divine retribution for sin.

The fears and anxiety associated with this period, whether agricultural, religious, or historical, all contribute to the unease which traditionally exists in this period of counting days.  But our tradition is not only one of anxiety; it is coupled with hope. We have just celebrated our freedom, and we've begun the countdown to Sinai. The daily anxiety of living in the world, day by counted day, needs to be placed in the Jewish context of freedom, redemption, and hope. But we ignore anxiety at our peril.