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 Tzav. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Tzav. Show all posts
Friday, November 21, 2014
Friday, April 4, 2014
What is Most Holy?
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.
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.
Friday, June 28, 2013
The Ultimate Mantra
This week’s Torah portion is Tzav, which means, command. God asked Moses to instruct the Priests about how to perform sacrifices. The fire on the altar was never to go out. In the mornings, the Kohen Gadol, the High Priest, cleared the ashes. In this portion there are rules for the elevation, meal, sin, guilt, and feast-peace offerings. The rules tell what should be burned and who should eat the meat and flour offerings. Fat and blood were not to be eaten. Then, at the end of this portion, the priests were sanctified for seven days and consecrated to begin their service for God and the people.
Three times in the beginning of this portion it says, “The fire on the altar shall remain aflame on it.” Twice the Torah adds, “it shall not be extinguished.” This can also be translated as, the fire on the altar shall remain aflame in him, meaning in each person. The Baal Shem Tov said, “Our heart is the altar” (Soul of the Torah, P. 196). This section of Tzav is the passage that is quoted at the beginning of Sephardic and Chassidic services, to inspire those at prayer to greater efforts toward love and sincerity.
There is an interesting statement in this portion concerning the meal offering. Part of it is called a memorial portion for God. The rest was consumed by the Priests. We might think that God would desire the largest part of the offering, giving the priest a small salary or meal to eat. But the reverse is true. God only requests a very small portion, just enough for us to remember God: to remember to thank and bless the Holy One. The greater portion is for us, for those who work in God’s service and help one another. Also, the meal offering was to be unleavened. God is satisfied with the minimum, with the ordinary, the everyday. Not the grandest offering; not a cake or loaf risen to great heights, but the most basic, real, down to earth offering, our very selves.
Also, the letter mem in the word flame is written smaller than the other letters. Perhaps this encourages us not to be showy with our dedication to God’s service; and not to be intermittent in our spiritual passion: one minute with our hearts aflame, the next indifferent. Rather, we are asked to have a small steady flame burning in our hearts, one that should never go out. The S’Fat Emet relates this to the V’ahavta prayer, that we should speak of our love for the Divine Essence inwardly, “when you sit in your house and when you walk by the way, when you lie down and when you rise up.” In other word: always. It is our hearts and minds that is important to God.
The Zohar comments on a verse from Job (1:5), “And when the days of the feast would come to their end, Job would send and sanctify them, and he would rise early in the morning, and offer burnt offerings according to the number of them all; for Job said, It may be that my sons have sinned, and cursed God in their hearts.” The Zohar (II:239b) says: “this… refers to the Community of Israel, and the term ha'olah (that which ascends), to the evil thought that rises up in our minds to turn us aside from the way of truth. The verse thus continues: ‘on its fire-wood upon the altar all night’, signifying that the evil thought has to be consumed in fire so as not to allow it to grow.”
Thus the Zohar speaks about the burnt offering as an atonement for evil thoughts. This is about the ultimate mantra: a stream of consciousness that consumes our negativity, our less than worthy inner chatter, replacing them with holy words and holy thoughts. The flame of love purifies us inwardly. This Shabbat is Shabbat HaGadol, the great Sabbath before Pesach; the Shabbat, as the Apter Rebbe taught, in which the hidden is about to be revealed. The S’fat Emet said, “In the soul of every person there lies a hidden point that is aflame with love of God, a fire that cannot be put out.” When that hidden flame burns quietly and steadily in our hearts, then our transformation will be revealed in the light shining on our faces and the faces of those whose lives we touch. May we nurture and feed the inner flame of our love with the fuel of our intention, the desire to help and be of service, the desire to love and be loved, and may we with Divine guidance and blessing be purified, sanctified, and transformed.
Three times in the beginning of this portion it says, “The fire on the altar shall remain aflame on it.” Twice the Torah adds, “it shall not be extinguished.” This can also be translated as, the fire on the altar shall remain aflame in him, meaning in each person. The Baal Shem Tov said, “Our heart is the altar” (Soul of the Torah, P. 196). This section of Tzav is the passage that is quoted at the beginning of Sephardic and Chassidic services, to inspire those at prayer to greater efforts toward love and sincerity.
There is an interesting statement in this portion concerning the meal offering. Part of it is called a memorial portion for God. The rest was consumed by the Priests. We might think that God would desire the largest part of the offering, giving the priest a small salary or meal to eat. But the reverse is true. God only requests a very small portion, just enough for us to remember God: to remember to thank and bless the Holy One. The greater portion is for us, for those who work in God’s service and help one another. Also, the meal offering was to be unleavened. God is satisfied with the minimum, with the ordinary, the everyday. Not the grandest offering; not a cake or loaf risen to great heights, but the most basic, real, down to earth offering, our very selves.
Also, the letter mem in the word flame is written smaller than the other letters. Perhaps this encourages us not to be showy with our dedication to God’s service; and not to be intermittent in our spiritual passion: one minute with our hearts aflame, the next indifferent. Rather, we are asked to have a small steady flame burning in our hearts, one that should never go out. The S’Fat Emet relates this to the V’ahavta prayer, that we should speak of our love for the Divine Essence inwardly, “when you sit in your house and when you walk by the way, when you lie down and when you rise up.” In other word: always. It is our hearts and minds that is important to God.
The Zohar comments on a verse from Job (1:5), “And when the days of the feast would come to their end, Job would send and sanctify them, and he would rise early in the morning, and offer burnt offerings according to the number of them all; for Job said, It may be that my sons have sinned, and cursed God in their hearts.” The Zohar (II:239b) says: “this… refers to the Community of Israel, and the term ha'olah (that which ascends), to the evil thought that rises up in our minds to turn us aside from the way of truth. The verse thus continues: ‘on its fire-wood upon the altar all night’, signifying that the evil thought has to be consumed in fire so as not to allow it to grow.”
Thus the Zohar speaks about the burnt offering as an atonement for evil thoughts. This is about the ultimate mantra: a stream of consciousness that consumes our negativity, our less than worthy inner chatter, replacing them with holy words and holy thoughts. The flame of love purifies us inwardly. This Shabbat is Shabbat HaGadol, the great Sabbath before Pesach; the Shabbat, as the Apter Rebbe taught, in which the hidden is about to be revealed. The S’fat Emet said, “In the soul of every person there lies a hidden point that is aflame with love of God, a fire that cannot be put out.” When that hidden flame burns quietly and steadily in our hearts, then our transformation will be revealed in the light shining on our faces and the faces of those whose lives we touch. May we nurture and feed the inner flame of our love with the fuel of our intention, the desire to help and be of service, the desire to love and be loved, and may we with Divine guidance and blessing be purified, sanctified, and transformed.
Friday, March 25, 2011
Setting Our Sights on Eternity
This week’s Torah portion is Tzav, which means, command. It continues the rules given to the priests concerning the five categories of sacrifices: elevation, grain or meal, feast-peace, sin, and guilt offering. The portion describes how the sacrifices should be offered and who may eat them; then the portion ends with a description of the priests seven day inauguration process.
This portion is really all about process, and it can be read on a metaphoric level as a kind of guide for self improvement and becoming closer to God. The Torah says, “This is the instruction of the elevation offering; It is the elevation offering, that stays on the flame upon the altar all night until the morning, and the fire of the altar should remain aflame on it. The priest ….shall separate the ashes which the fire consumed of the elevation offering on the altar, and he shall put them beside the altar, and carry the ashes outside the camp to a pure place. The fire on the altar shall remain burning on it; it shall not be extinguished; and the priest shall kindle wood on it every morning, and prepare the elevation offering on it; and he cause the fat of the peace offerings to go up in smoke on it. The fire shall be burning always upon the altar; it shall not go out.” The elevation offering is olah in Hebrew. It’s the word for up, the same word as aliyah, to be called up. Our yearning is to become elevated, and this is what makes us most human. In his great work called, the Tanya, Rabbi Schneur Zalman writes about the animal soul and the human soul. This is what B’reisheet, the first Torah portion, speaks about. Once Adam and Eve eat of the fruit and attain human consciousness, the human soul, they are afraid that God will find out what they have done, and they hide. Of course God already knows what they did and where they are, but God makes a big show about their actions, when God pretends to find out. Eve is given the punishment that her pain in childbearing will be increased. This simply happens through fear coming into the world. Fear is not a punishment, then, because just by having left the animal state, they already feel fear. This is evidenced by the fact that they hid after eating the fruit and before receiving the so-called punishment. Fear is about imagining the future, about having calendars and blackberry’s; and it is precisely our ability to think about the future that leads us to want to improve ourselves; living happier and more fulfilled lives. The great gift of fear is that we can set our sights on eternity and visualize what it would be like to be joyous and whole. The Torah speaks about the offering that stays on the flame all night until morning. If night is a metaphor that describes our suffering, then our desire for re-union with the Divine persists through our nights of difficulty, until the joy of the fulfillment comes in the morning. We are instructed to keep our desires burning through the nights, even to add fresh wood to the fire that burns in our souls, which the Talmud calls the service of the heart. The ashes that remain may be that part of ourselves that we know we need to purify. Rabbi Elimelech quotes the Talmud which says, “Great is repentance, since it transforms willful sins into merits” How is this portrayed in the portion? The ashes were taken to a pure place, meaning perhaps that even our less worthy parts can be put in service to holiness. This is reassuring, because it tells us that we don’t need to get rid of the less noble parts of ourselves; we only have to put them to a higher purpose. This is such an important distinction. Many of us in our upbringing were given the message that only some parts of ourselves were loved and accepted or even acceptable. But we are not manufactured in parts; we are whole beings. Carl Jung writes about personality integration; and that is our task: to use more and more of ourselves to serve what is highest and best in us. The Torah speaks about this also as raising the ashes. How can we raise the ashes? In the process of seeking improvement, the person bringing a sacrifice nourished others. The priests, the relatives and friends, the poor, as well as the person bringing the sacrifice: all ate from it; and when we improve ourselves we benefit ourselves as well as others. This portion repeatedly stresses that our fire: our burning desire to love and be loved must not be extinguished. We must nourish our soul’s impulse to perfect ourselves and in so doing to find the joy in life and the fulfillment of spiritual elevation. This is the pinnacle of being human: a quest to leave the animal state even further behind and rise, becoming truly, as the S’fat Emet says, (P. 157) “half above and half below,” half spiritual soul-beings and half matter. May we seize this commandment to continually elevate ourselves; and turn our thoughts, actions, and desires toward Heaven. May we purify ourselves and in so doing, bring nourishment and goodness to all those whose lives we touch.
This portion is really all about process, and it can be read on a metaphoric level as a kind of guide for self improvement and becoming closer to God. The Torah says, “This is the instruction of the elevation offering; It is the elevation offering, that stays on the flame upon the altar all night until the morning, and the fire of the altar should remain aflame on it. The priest ….shall separate the ashes which the fire consumed of the elevation offering on the altar, and he shall put them beside the altar, and carry the ashes outside the camp to a pure place. The fire on the altar shall remain burning on it; it shall not be extinguished; and the priest shall kindle wood on it every morning, and prepare the elevation offering on it; and he cause the fat of the peace offerings to go up in smoke on it. The fire shall be burning always upon the altar; it shall not go out.” The elevation offering is olah in Hebrew. It’s the word for up, the same word as aliyah, to be called up. Our yearning is to become elevated, and this is what makes us most human. In his great work called, the Tanya, Rabbi Schneur Zalman writes about the animal soul and the human soul. This is what B’reisheet, the first Torah portion, speaks about. Once Adam and Eve eat of the fruit and attain human consciousness, the human soul, they are afraid that God will find out what they have done, and they hide. Of course God already knows what they did and where they are, but God makes a big show about their actions, when God pretends to find out. Eve is given the punishment that her pain in childbearing will be increased. This simply happens through fear coming into the world. Fear is not a punishment, then, because just by having left the animal state, they already feel fear. This is evidenced by the fact that they hid after eating the fruit and before receiving the so-called punishment. Fear is about imagining the future, about having calendars and blackberry’s; and it is precisely our ability to think about the future that leads us to want to improve ourselves; living happier and more fulfilled lives. The great gift of fear is that we can set our sights on eternity and visualize what it would be like to be joyous and whole. The Torah speaks about the offering that stays on the flame all night until morning. If night is a metaphor that describes our suffering, then our desire for re-union with the Divine persists through our nights of difficulty, until the joy of the fulfillment comes in the morning. We are instructed to keep our desires burning through the nights, even to add fresh wood to the fire that burns in our souls, which the Talmud calls the service of the heart. The ashes that remain may be that part of ourselves that we know we need to purify. Rabbi Elimelech quotes the Talmud which says, “Great is repentance, since it transforms willful sins into merits” How is this portrayed in the portion? The ashes were taken to a pure place, meaning perhaps that even our less worthy parts can be put in service to holiness. This is reassuring, because it tells us that we don’t need to get rid of the less noble parts of ourselves; we only have to put them to a higher purpose. This is such an important distinction. Many of us in our upbringing were given the message that only some parts of ourselves were loved and accepted or even acceptable. But we are not manufactured in parts; we are whole beings. Carl Jung writes about personality integration; and that is our task: to use more and more of ourselves to serve what is highest and best in us. The Torah speaks about this also as raising the ashes. How can we raise the ashes? In the process of seeking improvement, the person bringing a sacrifice nourished others. The priests, the relatives and friends, the poor, as well as the person bringing the sacrifice: all ate from it; and when we improve ourselves we benefit ourselves as well as others. This portion repeatedly stresses that our fire: our burning desire to love and be loved must not be extinguished. We must nourish our soul’s impulse to perfect ourselves and in so doing to find the joy in life and the fulfillment of spiritual elevation. This is the pinnacle of being human: a quest to leave the animal state even further behind and rise, becoming truly, as the S’fat Emet says, (P. 157) “half above and half below,” half spiritual soul-beings and half matter. May we seize this commandment to continually elevate ourselves; and turn our thoughts, actions, and desires toward Heaven. May we purify ourselves and in so doing, bring nourishment and goodness to all those whose lives we touch.
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