Acharei Mot – Kedoshim: Holiness is about sharing

The holiness code detailed in Leviticus 19 opens with the command: “You shall be holy for I the Lord your God am holy.” The chapter then goes on to describe in exquisite detail the means to achieving holiness. Surprisingly these laws are not by and large about rituals but instead about ethical precepts. Do not steal. Do not place a stumbling block before the blind. Love your neighbour.

Throughout, the words of neighbour and fellow, stranger and poor are repeated. We are commanded to love the neighbour. Do not hate your fellow in your heart. Leave the gleanings of the field for the poor and stranger.

In ancient times, it was not only a mandate to give tzedakah to the poor but to allow them to gather their own food. Farmers were commanded not to pick their vineyards bare or gather the fallen crops. This not only allowed them to gather necessary food but preserved their dignity as well. It is this command that is one of the opening dictates of chapter 19 and therefore creates the framework for the entire holiness code. Concern for others is this chapter’s overarching theme.

Curiously there is also an introductory command about the shelamim offering. On the surface one would think that this is about rituals and not ethics. However the Torah also commands: “[The offering] shall be eaten on the day you sacrifice it, or on the day following; but what is left by the third day must be consumed in fire. If it should be eaten on the third day, it is an offensive thing…” (Leviticus 19:6-7) One might surmise that the basis of this law is a concern for health.

This however is not the intention of the law’s prohibition. The shelamim offering was a voluntary sacrifice that was offered by individuals or families in order to thank God. Much of the sacrificial animal was eaten and enjoyed in a grand feast. The Torah deems it offensive if it was not a shared meal. It was not acceptable for there to be leftovers. That could only mean that not enough people were invited. The circle must be enlarged on occasions when we offer thanks. One’s gratitude is expanded by sharing it with others. The framework of this chapter and its fundamental teaching are that all the laws come to solidify our commitments to the larger community. The chapter opens: “Speak to the whole community of the children of Israel…”

Even if a sacrifice emerged from private gratitude it only gained its true meaning by being shared with others. It is not a proper thank you if it remains private. Joy and gratitude must be surrounded by neighbours and fellows. Even the poor and the stranger must be invited in.

Holiness is about sharing. It is about drawing others into community. And that is why the shelamim offering shares a root meaning with shalom, peace.

Rabbi Adrian M Schell (Source: Steven Moskovitz)

Torah Reading
Shabbat Acharei Mot-Kedoshim
Leviticus 16:1- 20:27; Reading Lev. 19:1-25
Plaut p.798; Hertz p.497
Haftarah Amos 9:7-9:15; Plaut p.814; Hertz p.509
In our weekly Torah portion:
* The duties that the head kohein must perform on Yom Kippur are delineated and the ceremony of the scapegoat is outlined and Moses instructs Aaron about the Yom Kippur laws for fasting and atonement.
* God issues a variety of commandments, instructing the Israelites on how to be a holy people.
* Various sex offenses are discussed and punishments for them are presented.

Tazria-Metzorah: Our people’s approach to life

While Rabbis often dread having to preach about our Torah portion (who likes to speak about skin eruption called tzaraat), it is a very suggestive one, and presents, an image of the holiness of the Israelite people.

Tzaraat is a substance that is supposed to remain inside the body; it is „unnatural“ when it flows out, in other words, our reading is about boundaries. Because the skin eruption is a death-skirting impurity it is appropriate that the patient be examined by the kohen, as though he or she were an offering being brought to the altar. Indeed, we are given much more detail about how carefully the kohen is to examine the human subject than we are told how he would examine a sacrificial animal.

If the person is found to be a m’tzora, someone infected by tzaraat, the person is put in quarantine for seven days It is remarkable that the same procedures are instituted for the most pure, the priests – the same amount of time Aaron and his sons were secluded during the period of their consecration –, and the least pure, the m’tzora.

And it continues in the same way: the priest purifies the „healed“ m’tzora  in the same fashion as the priests are consecrated—by sprinkling blood on them. Of course, it is in the spaces between these extremes—the most pure and the least pure—that the body of Israel dwells. While the non-priest cannot attain to the purity of the kohen, men and women are protected from the destructive impurity of tzaraat by the procedures outlined in our reading, in which the affected person comes as close to the experience of the kohen as a „layperson“ is permitted. The ordinary Israelite’s vulnerability to tzaraat paradoxically creates a kind of democracy erasing some of the distinctions between kohen and Israelite.

In non-leap years like this one we read both Tazria and M’tzora together. There is comfort in this pairing: the first portion describes the outbreak and treatment of the disease; the second portion describes the welcoming of the healed victim back into the community. On years when they are read separately, it is as though we are living out the victim’s condition—for a whole week; the victim’s weeklong isolation becomes part of our life as well, until the person is welcomed back when it is time to read the new portion. In years like this one, by condensing the diagnosis, treatment, and welcome into the same week, we are reminded of the hopefulness that is so much a part of the Jewish people’s approach to life; though we may begin a period of time with bad news, there is treatment and transcendence waiting at the end.

May we draw strength and transformation from the spiritual waters, the study of our Torah. Shabbat Shalom

Rabbi Adrian M Schell

(Source: Rabbi Richard N Levy)

Torah Reading Shabbat Tazria-Metzorah

Leviticus 12:1-15:33; Reading Lev. 13:29 – 40

Plaut p.735; Hertz p.460

Haftarah II Kings 7:3-20; Plaut p.765; Hertz p.477

In our weekly Torah portion:

* God describes the rituals of purification for a woman after childbirth and sets forth the methods for diagnosing and treating a variety of skin diseases, including tzara-at (a leprous affection), as well as those for purifying clothing.

* Priestly rituals to cure tzara-at when it afflicts humans are described and those to rid dwelling places of tzara-at.

* The parashah denotes male impurities resulting from a penile discharge or seminal emission.

* The parashah concludes with accounts of female impurities caused by a discharge of blood.

 

Yom HaShoah: Reinstating the memory and names as a permanent remembrance

When someone we love passes away, we experience deep sorrow and grief. We miss that person’s presence and caring. We miss the support and all that we shared. Jewish mourning rituals and customs are meant to help us cope, to face the loss realistically, and to find comfort. Jewish tradition helps us to understand that “death is not the end” but rather that our loved ones continue to live in our memory and keep influencing the ones left behind.

A fundamental cornerstone of our Jewish tradition is that every Jew should have a proper gravesite, a place that reflects the dignity of the deceased, and which serves as a enduring place to commemorate lost love ones for the bereaved.

One of the heinous crimes during the Shoah was to deny the victims this fundamental right. Not only were they deprived of their names, their dignity and dehumanised during their lifetime, they were refused a funeral. They were murdered, burned and hastily buried anonymously. Their death sought not only to extinguish their lives but their memory, too.

Sadly, we cannot provide the victims of the Shoah with a proper gravesite to undo what the Nazis did to them, but what we can do is to remember them and their lives by coming together. We can bear the legacy of each of them, and reinstate the memory and their names as a permanent remembrance. As a Jewish community we can – together with the society we are living in – create places and occasions for grief and commemoration. We can at least try to restore all that was taken away so brutally from the victims of the Shoah: their dignity, their uniqueness, their individuality, and their divine spark, which is inherent in every human being.

Coming Sunday (23 April) we will have another opportunity to remember them.  For the women, men and children they were, with all the ups and downs, moments shared and missed, and all the divine sparks scattered during their lifetime. Let us be one family for the millions murdered and persecuted in the Shoah, comforting the survivors, and underlining that “death is not the end” but rather that all of them live in our memories.

The memorial service at Westpark Cemetery begins at 10.00 for 10.30.

Thank you

Rabbi Adrian M Schell

(Picture: The Last March‘, bronze sculpture by Natan Yaakov Rapoport, Yad Vashem, Jerusalem)

Torah Reading Shabbat Shemini

Leviticus 9:1-11:47 Reading Lev. 10:1-11:3

Plaut p.709; Hertz p.445

Haftarah II Samuel 6:1-7:17 Plaut p.729; Hertz p.454

In our Torah portion:

* Aaron and his sons follow Moses‘ instructions and offer sacrifices so that God will forgive the people.

* Two of Aaron’s sons, Nadab and Abihu, offer „alien fire“ to God. God punishes these two priests by killing them immediately.

* God forbids Moses, Aaron, and his surviving sons from mourning but commands the rest of the people to do so. Priests are told not to drink alcohol before entering the sacred Tabernacle and are further instructed about making sacrifices.

*Laws are given to distinguish between pure and impure animals, birds, fish, and insects.

Rosh Chodesh Iyar is on Wednesday and Thursday

 

 

Torah Sparks: Resurrection of the death?

This coming Shabbat, we have a dramatic haftarah reading from Ezekiel 37:1-14. The prophet shares the vision of dry bones coming to life. What does this vision have to do with Passover, our festival of freedom, our deliverance from slavery? The Haftarah Commentary, by Gunther Plaut, offers the following opinion on the connection between Passover and this prophecy: “The connection of the Shabbat of Pesach and the main body of the haftarah (37:1-14) lies in the theme of Israel’s deliverance: in the Torah it is delivered from slavery: in the haftarah, from death.”

The story of Passover is the celebration of the Exodus from Egypt, yet the story is incomplete without a messianic vision. Ezekiel, preaches to his people who are exiled from Israel, after many have been killed in battle; they are given a vision of the return of the dead to Jerusalem and a restored homeland.

Are there other possible connections to Passover?

One interesting connection is that we end our seder with the song „Chad Gadya“, the so-called „children’s song“ that follows the chain of violence and death from one goat to God’s striking the Angel of Death. By this time in the seder, most of us are too tipsy, tired, and full to pay attention to the incredible theological message- masquerading as child’s play, sung in Aramaic. Its message of ultimate redemption echoes in the seder and is fully disclosed in Ezekiel’s prophecy of hope and restoration.

But, was Ezekiel’s prophecy meant to be real or a metaphor? Is it really a description of physical resurrection or spiritual resurrection?  And how do we moderns-and particularly we Progressive Jews-find meaning in this?

The prayers for the resurrection of the dead were among the first to be excised from classical Reform prayer books. But our more recent Mishkan T’filah has put the prayer back as an alternative reading. Could it be that the last century, with its extraordinary events, reminded us that „resurrection“ is possible?

In our haftarah, Ezekiel will send a shiver down your spine: „Our bones are dried up, our hope is lost (v’avdah tikvateinu), we are cut off [from life]!“ These words, written sometime in the sixth century BCE, resonated in the hearts, minds, and pens of our early Zionist dreamers! The rebirth of Israel is probably the most powerful cultural resurrection of the twentieth century. Ezekiel was right, „I will put My breath into you and you shall live, and I will place you in your own land“ (Ezekiel 37:14).  Recited century after century, this haftarah has changed from a wistful prayer to a clarion call to action.

Wishing you all a very meaningful Pesach

Rabbi Adrian M Schell (Source: Rabbi Naamah Kelman )


A thought on last week’s parasha by Rabbi Yosef Solomon

He shall remove his garments and wear other garments and he shall take out the ashes.” ~ Leviticus 6:4

 The first daily Temple-service was the removal of the previous day’s ashes from the Altar. Why did the priest need to change clothes? Sorry budding Kabbalists, no hidden mysticism here and not even a mitzvah! Rather just simple common-sense: since he’s likely to soil his holy garments from the dirty ashes, the priest should change into ‘overalls’. Evidently, certain clothing is unsuitable for specific pursuits. If you dress appropriately for business-meetings or social-functions, why should spiritual ones be any different? The famous proverb „clothes maketh the man“ points to the fact that people generally judge others by their external reality.  Judaism points in the opposite direction: judge the moment and align your internal reality by dressing accordingly.

Torah Reading Shabbat Chol HaMoed Pesach

Exodus 33:12-34:26 and Numbers 28:19-25
(Plaut 592; Hertz 362)

Haftarah: Ezekiel 37:1-37:14 (P1465 Hertz 1015)

With the reading, we are reminded of the age-old desire to know God. Moses implores God to let him see God. While God will not allow Moses to see God’s face, God tells Moses, “I will make My goodness pass before you…“ Perhaps we experience the divine presence through the goodness we create in the world. The Torah then sets forth the thirteen attributes of God, among them that God is compassionate, gracious, slow to anger and abounding in kindness. By emulating these very attributes, we create the goodness which allows us to know God.

 

 

Parashat Ki Tisa: Lights of Glory

At the conclusion of our parashah, Moshe descends from Mount Sinai with a new set of hewn tablets in hand. The Torah narrates, „Moses was not aware that the skin of his face was radiant [karan or], since he had spoken with God. Aaron and all the Israelites saw that the skin of Moses‘ face was radiant; and they shrank from coming near to him“ (Exodus 34:29–30). How can we understand this divine light? And to what extent may our faces today radiate that same sacred light?

 Rashi, the prolific Torah commentator, explains, „From where did Moshe merit these lights of glory? Our rabbis teach, ‚from the light that God’s hand transmitted to Moshe’s face, as it is said, ‚and, as My Presence passes by, I will put you in a cleft of the rock and shield you with My hand until I have passed by‘. For Rashi, Moshe’s radiance is derived explicitly from the „touch“ of GodAlternatively, one is presented with a different understanding by B’midbar Rabbah, a compilation of midrashim on the book of Numbers. Sparked by Proverbs 6, „a mitzvah is a candle and Torah is light,“ the midrash queries, „Why is Torah called light? For Torah illuminates and guides a human since Torah teaches one how to behave according to the will of God. Therefore, the reward of Torah is great“ (BR 14:10).  For this midrash, the learning of Torah imparts illumination. The Torah’s light blazes a path through the complexities of the modern world. And more than that, the Torah truly has the capacity to impart a radiant spiritual light on those who invest the time to learn.

 In the last month, we celebrated two outstanding B’nei Mitzvah, Shayne and Samara, and I am sure we all could see the light of Torah in their faces. I can only imagine that this radiance is the very same light that illuminated the countenance of Moshe.

 And perhaps, even more powerfully, our parashah comes to teach us a lesson on Torah teaching. We are told that when the Israelites saw Moshe’s radiance, „they shrank from coming near to him.“ Perhaps, by virtue of Moshe’s great learning, the people were intimidated by Moshe’s presence. But what did Moshe do in response to the people’s fear? „Moshe called to them… and Moshe spoke to them.“ To Moshe’s credit, he realised his own intimidation factor; and to bring people near, he called to them, spoke to them, and even veiled his own face so as to diminish his radiance. Moshe’s actions speak to his unique humility and profound sensitivity.

 May each of us, both in the role of teacher and student, learn from Moshe’s brilliant example.

 Shabbat Shalom Rabbi Adrian M Schell

(Source: Rabbi Matthew Berkowitz)