This week’s Torah portion is Tzav, which means, command. God continues to issue instructions for the priest concerning the presentation of sacrifices. The fire on the altar was never to go out. In the mornings, the Kohen Gadol, the High Priest, cleared the ashes. Fat and blood were not to be eaten. At the end of this portion, the priests were sanctified for seven days and consecrated to begin their service for God and the people.
The first sacrifice mentioned in this portion is the elevation offering, the only one burned in its entirety. What follows are instructions about three other types of sacrifices: the grain or mincha offering, the sin, and the guilt offering. Each of these three offerings were partially consumed by the priests. God tells them that part of each sacrifice will be burned. Then the Torah says, “Aaron and his sons shall eat what is left of it, it shall be eaten unleavened in a holy place, in the courtyard of the Tent of Meeting shall they eat it…I have presented it as their share from my fire offerings. It is Kadosh Kadoshim, holy of holies, like the sin offering and like the guilt offering.” Right after that it says, “Whatever touches them shall become holy.”
This phrase, most holy, or holiest of the holies, is said five times in this portion. Whatever touches them shall become holy, is said twice. God is attempting to tell the priests something important, but what is it? The meal offering was the least a person could offer. It was often brought by a person who was poor. Significantly, its holiness is described first among the edible sacrifices. The Midrash quotes Psalm 22:24 (Midrash Rabba III:2) “You that fear God, offer praise; All you the seed of Jacob, glorify The Eternal; And stand in awe of God, you seed of Israel, for God has not despised nor abhorred the lowliness of the poor; Neither hath God Hid the Divine face from him. But when he cried unto God, The Eternal heard.” This tells us that the offerings of the poor are special and precious to God. Next the sin and guilt offerings are listed. The priests must eat them in a holy place, for they are kadosh kadoshim, the holy of the holies. Whatever touches them becomes holy.
If we think about these three offerings, of the poor, concerning sin, and guilt, we might think that God might regard them with some disdain, or perhaps just tacit acceptance, because they represent wrongdoing. But this disdain is just what the priests are cautioned to avoid. Perhaps they needed to be told about the great holiness of these offerings. What is holy is not the sacrifice itself, but the confession of the person over the sacrifice, the intention to seek forgiveness, and the desire to change. A well-known precept of the Talmud is that. “In the place where penitents stand even the wholly righteous cannot stand.” (Berachot 34b)
The priests were overseeing the most important mechanism that exists for the full fruition of humanity: the elevation of the human soul. We know that the world can only improve if we change. The priests were not to treat these sacrifices lightly, disdainfully, or even in a “business as usual” manner. They were to approach these sacrifices with a deep reverence for the person offering them, and for the spiritual elevation they represented, knowing that they were the midwives to the birth a better world. Through confession, atonement, repentance, and the intention to do better each of us urges the world forward, in tiny increments. The priests observed people and hence the world, slowly improving. By their encouragement and respect for each sacrifice, they were able to promote the highest in the person offering the gift to God.
The meaning for us, who serve as our own priests, is to develop a reverence for our own capacity to grow and intention to change, for “it is most holy.” And we should know that whatever facets of our lives are touched by these changes become holy as well. The human way is to fall down and rise up. Rabbi Nachman of Breslov said, “Whenever a person rises from one level to the next, it necessitates that they first have a descent before the ascent. Because the purpose of any descent is always in order to ascend.” (LM 22) If we wish it, our mistakes can be the rungs of the ladder of ascent, that we grasp that rung to pull ourselves up, and then stand upon it. Let us be in awe of our own capacity to grow, which will never end, and experience the holiness of God’s mechanism, the human way, of rising through our mistakes, because we, they too, are holy.
Showing posts with label Mistakes. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mistakes. Show all posts
Friday, November 21, 2014
Sunday, January 1, 2012
Flawed and Holy
This week’s Torah portion is Vayeishev, which means, and he settled. Jacob settled in Canaan with his wives and 13 children. This begins the Joseph stories, in which the favored young dreamer, hated by his brothers, is sold by them into Egypt, has a series of misadventures, and eventually becomes, in next week’s Torah portion, a high official in Pharaoh’s court.
There is an important incident which interrupts the main story, concerning Jacob’s fourth son, Judah, and his family. This story could be called The Education of Judah. Judah marries a Canaanite woman. Their eldest son, Er, later marries a girl named Tamar, but Er dies. As was the custom at that time, Tamar is given as a wife to Judah’s second son, who also dies. When Tamar, who is childless, realizes that she will not be given to Judah’s youngest son, she impersonates a prostitute and arranges to have sexual relations with Judah without revealing her identity. Judah offers to pay her with a baby animal, which he promises to send to her. Tamar insists on a pledge of good faith: his staff, his wrap, and his signet, with which he signs documents. When Judah tries to send the payment, no prostitute can be found. Tamar becomes pregnant by Judah. When her pregnancy becomes known, Judah sentences her to die for sexual transgressions. But she sends him the pledges and he learns that it is he who committed the sin. He acknowledges his failure to keep his word about her marriage to his third son, and he relents. Tamar gives birth to twins; and one of their twin boys becomes the ancestor of King David and also the Prophet Isaiah.
This portion is full of ancestors with flaws. Jacob, like his parents, has a favorite child, creating a poisonous atmosphere. Joseph is an obnoxious, gossiping teenager. The brothers are full of jealousy and hatred. It was Judah’s bright idea to save Joseph from death and sell Joseph into slavery, and his brothers listened to him. We learn that Judah’s two eldest sons displeased God and so died. It is hard to find a person, other than possibly Tamar, with any redeeming character traits. Why are we told about all these people’s worst actions? Perhaps it is so that we can recognize ourselves in these people. This story is important because it portrays life as we know it and people as we know them. There are no saints in Judaism. The Torah is completely honest about how imperfect we all are.
There is example upon example here, of people experiencing the results of their actions, otherwise called, Divine justice. One who separates, through favoritism like Jacob; by lying, like Judah; or by tricking, like both of them, is himself separated from those they love. But the Torah teaches us that mistakes don’t have to be fatal. Even a truly evil deed can be forgiven. If we compare this story about Judah with the story about how Rachel stole her father’s household idols, an interesting parallel emerges. We may think that selling your brother is much worse than stealing some idols. That may be so. But the difference between the outcomes of these two stories shows us where our attention is being directed. Rachel’s Father pursued and caught up with Jacob and his family. Rachel had the opportunity to give the idols back to her Father. But instead of doing so, she sat on the idols to conceal her theft and compounds the deed with the lie that she can’t get up because it’s her time of the month. When given a chance to confess and make it right, she adds one sin to another. For her refusal to repent, she dies early, in childbirth. But Judah takes another path. When given the opportunity to confess, he admits he was wrong. He creates the conditions that lead to Divine forgiveness, and the resumption of the flow of God’s blessings to him. He is blessed by two new sons who become great blessings to the Jewish people and beyond.
So many people have characterized the God of Genesis as a vengeful, angry God; a God of strict justice. But in my reading, the text does not bear this out. When Cain killed Abel, if God were an angry, unforgiving God, God would have killed Cain. But Cain was given the opportunity to live, to wander, and to be set free into a life of learning and growth. When the sins of the people of Noah’s time became known to God, God’s first reaction was heartfelt sadness, not anger. And in the story of Judah, it doesn’t matter how grave his sin is: one who admits their error, owns up to what they have done, and tries to make it right is pardoned. God knows how many mistakes we make: how selfish and dishonest we can be. How absolute truth and absolute integrity often elude us. What needs to be purified in us is often hidden, even from ourselves. As with our very flawed ancestors, God wants us to become aware of those problematic parts of ourselves; to admit what we have done, to grow from our realizations, and go on to make new mistakes from which we can also grow. Mistakes, sins, errors, are our reality checks, showing us what we really are like, and helping us to see ourselves, so that we can leave these current selves behind, like an animal that molts and sheds its skin, and emerge reborn into goodness. This is the process of becoming holy. We are the flawed descendants of flawed ancestors who find holiness through embracing the process of seeing, realizing, and letting go of flaws. Like Tamar, may we not hesitate to act where there is an opportunity. Like Judah, may we be big enough to be able to admit our mistakes. And like all the patriarchs and matriarchs, may we continue to be guided by God to grow in goodness.
There is an important incident which interrupts the main story, concerning Jacob’s fourth son, Judah, and his family. This story could be called The Education of Judah. Judah marries a Canaanite woman. Their eldest son, Er, later marries a girl named Tamar, but Er dies. As was the custom at that time, Tamar is given as a wife to Judah’s second son, who also dies. When Tamar, who is childless, realizes that she will not be given to Judah’s youngest son, she impersonates a prostitute and arranges to have sexual relations with Judah without revealing her identity. Judah offers to pay her with a baby animal, which he promises to send to her. Tamar insists on a pledge of good faith: his staff, his wrap, and his signet, with which he signs documents. When Judah tries to send the payment, no prostitute can be found. Tamar becomes pregnant by Judah. When her pregnancy becomes known, Judah sentences her to die for sexual transgressions. But she sends him the pledges and he learns that it is he who committed the sin. He acknowledges his failure to keep his word about her marriage to his third son, and he relents. Tamar gives birth to twins; and one of their twin boys becomes the ancestor of King David and also the Prophet Isaiah.
This portion is full of ancestors with flaws. Jacob, like his parents, has a favorite child, creating a poisonous atmosphere. Joseph is an obnoxious, gossiping teenager. The brothers are full of jealousy and hatred. It was Judah’s bright idea to save Joseph from death and sell Joseph into slavery, and his brothers listened to him. We learn that Judah’s two eldest sons displeased God and so died. It is hard to find a person, other than possibly Tamar, with any redeeming character traits. Why are we told about all these people’s worst actions? Perhaps it is so that we can recognize ourselves in these people. This story is important because it portrays life as we know it and people as we know them. There are no saints in Judaism. The Torah is completely honest about how imperfect we all are.
There is example upon example here, of people experiencing the results of their actions, otherwise called, Divine justice. One who separates, through favoritism like Jacob; by lying, like Judah; or by tricking, like both of them, is himself separated from those they love. But the Torah teaches us that mistakes don’t have to be fatal. Even a truly evil deed can be forgiven. If we compare this story about Judah with the story about how Rachel stole her father’s household idols, an interesting parallel emerges. We may think that selling your brother is much worse than stealing some idols. That may be so. But the difference between the outcomes of these two stories shows us where our attention is being directed. Rachel’s Father pursued and caught up with Jacob and his family. Rachel had the opportunity to give the idols back to her Father. But instead of doing so, she sat on the idols to conceal her theft and compounds the deed with the lie that she can’t get up because it’s her time of the month. When given a chance to confess and make it right, she adds one sin to another. For her refusal to repent, she dies early, in childbirth. But Judah takes another path. When given the opportunity to confess, he admits he was wrong. He creates the conditions that lead to Divine forgiveness, and the resumption of the flow of God’s blessings to him. He is blessed by two new sons who become great blessings to the Jewish people and beyond.
So many people have characterized the God of Genesis as a vengeful, angry God; a God of strict justice. But in my reading, the text does not bear this out. When Cain killed Abel, if God were an angry, unforgiving God, God would have killed Cain. But Cain was given the opportunity to live, to wander, and to be set free into a life of learning and growth. When the sins of the people of Noah’s time became known to God, God’s first reaction was heartfelt sadness, not anger. And in the story of Judah, it doesn’t matter how grave his sin is: one who admits their error, owns up to what they have done, and tries to make it right is pardoned. God knows how many mistakes we make: how selfish and dishonest we can be. How absolute truth and absolute integrity often elude us. What needs to be purified in us is often hidden, even from ourselves. As with our very flawed ancestors, God wants us to become aware of those problematic parts of ourselves; to admit what we have done, to grow from our realizations, and go on to make new mistakes from which we can also grow. Mistakes, sins, errors, are our reality checks, showing us what we really are like, and helping us to see ourselves, so that we can leave these current selves behind, like an animal that molts and sheds its skin, and emerge reborn into goodness. This is the process of becoming holy. We are the flawed descendants of flawed ancestors who find holiness through embracing the process of seeing, realizing, and letting go of flaws. Like Tamar, may we not hesitate to act where there is an opportunity. Like Judah, may we be big enough to be able to admit our mistakes. And like all the patriarchs and matriarchs, may we continue to be guided by God to grow in goodness.
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