Parshas Emor: No Nepotism…An Indirect Insight from the Parsha

Sefer Vayikra focuses on the kohanim, the sons of Aaron, but, as with all of Torah, we take the laws and information in there and see how it applies to the larger nation as well. Parshas Emor opens with the oft-discussed restrictions on the family members whose funerals a kohain may attend. For some, it seems shockingly restricted. Attending a funeral is a means of demonstrating love and true respect for the departed, and that that should be denied feels, from certain perspectives, almost cruel.

 

Something that feels cruel, however, does not, in Torah law, supersede that which is necessary. It is necessary for the kohanim to maintain their distance from death because it affects their ability to serve in their role of spiritual channel. (This is another thing that is difficult for those of us in the long diaspora to fully understand.)

 

Kohanim were meant to live their lives differently than the rest of Klal Yisrael - not better, not worse, just differently. Differently, however, can be abused. Differently can cause society to split into haves and have nots, and it seems as if, perhaps, in the first half of Vayikra 22, the Torah is making certain to guard the Kohanim from falling into an abuse of their status.

 

Vayikra 22 begins: “Hashem spoke to Moshe saying, “Instruct Aaron and his sons va’yinazaru from the sanctified donations of Klal Yisrael and not to profane My holy name; these that they dedicate to Me, I am Hashem” (22:1-2). Va’yinazru is an interesting word that is interpreted in one place as ‘to be scrupulous” and in another as “they must abstain” and in the Rav Hirsh translation (which is, of course, a translation of a translation) as “keep themselves apart from.”

 

The Kohanim received the offerings of Klal Yisrael, and it is very clear from other halachot that once an item is sanctified for donation, it holds a unique status. Some of that which is donated to the Mishkan/Beis Hamikdash is burnt up in sacrifice and some is given to the Kohanim to consume. From an outside perspective, this may seem to offer the Kohanim a rather substantial boon. After all, at the most basic level of all trade is the need to gather food, and here the Kohanim have food delivered to them.

 

Vayikra 22 protects the Kohanim from abusing their largesse. First, the parsha makes clear that a kohain in a state of impurity may not eat from the consecrated food. Although it did not take long for a kohein to purify himself, it is still a reminder that he is at this table purely because of his unique role. More significantly, the Torah delineates that the sacred donations may not be eaten by a layman, by a non-kohein who is residing with the kohein, or by a hired worker of the kohein. A slave owned by the Kohein may eat.

 

These laws emphasis that the right to consume the consecrated food should not be taken lightly. One might also see in this the idea that the access a Kohein has to the consecrated food, which was of the highest quality meats, could not be used for outside influence. A Kohein could not invite a neighbor from whom he wanted a favor, a potential business partner, or even his future son-in-law if he wasn’t a Kohein, to partake in this food. This food, Hashem is stating is for you and yours alone.

 

But what of the daughters. The Torah clearly states that if a Bas-Kohein marries a layman, she may no longer eat of the sacred gifts. The only way she would return to her family’s consecrated feast would be as a childless widow or divorcee. And now, once again, it could be argued that this feels cruel.

 

According to the Torah, when a woman marries, she becomes part of her husband’s tribe. The wife of a kohain, whether born into a family of kohanim or not, may eat of the consecrated food, so too the daughter of a kohain who becomes part of another tribe may not. There is equivalency. However, there is in this also a level of protection from lower scruples. For most of history, marriages were arranged based on a perspective of benefits to each party. By stating outright that a bas-Kohein becomes of the other tribe, it nullifies the greed of seeking out to become a kohain’s son-in-law.

 

Being a kohain comes with privileges, but it also comes with a vast responsibility. It was never meant to be taken lightly, and it was certainly not meant to create fiscal class. The rules of who could eat from the table of the Kohanim were a protection of the integrity, and from these rules we can be reminded of the need in our own lives to be scrupulous in our action and to hold firm boundaries even with those who are close to us.

 

Parshas Emor: Spring Charity

 Parshas Emor: Spring Charity

If you’ve been counting the way I’ve been counting, then congratulations on making it this far in Sefiras Haomer. (Trust me, there are years I missed counting on day two!) More seriously, if you’ve been counting the way I’ve been counting, then you are fulfilling a mitzvah from this week’s parsha: “And you shall count for yourselves from the day after the day of rest, from the day that you brought the sheaf of the waving, seven weeks shall be completed” (Vayikra 23:15).

 

It is a fact that we take our holidays very seriously. Vayikra 23 is just one of several places in the Torah where they are listed in detail, which actually makes it easy for one to just glance over them when reading the parsha and sort of nod to one’s self. Yup – Pesach, omer, Shavuos…yup, Seventh month…got it, yes. Tucked in among those perakim, however, is an extra commandment – one that seems to have nothing to do with the holy days. It is the only verse in Vayikra 23 that is, seemingly, unrelated to the holidays. It says: “And when you reap the harvest of your land, you shall not wholly reap the corner of your field, neither shall you gather the gleaning of your harvest; you shall leave them for the poor, and for the stranger: I am the L-rd your Gd” (Vayikra 23:22).

 

The obvious question, of course, is why this verse is here at all since it seems to take away from the general subject. While one can insert basic principals of logic, such as “Seeing that the principal period of harvesting commences around the time of Shavuot, the Torah chose to speak of this season first, when discussing special laws of benefit to the poor connected with the act of collecting the harvest” (Chizkuni, Leviticus 23:22:1), this only answers the question of what is the connection, not of why it was connected here.

 

Shavuos is a strange holiday. In the Torah it has no official date, just that it is celebrated at the end of the count. It is a convocation without any specific rituals. Much of how we celebrate this chag is based on minhagim rather than rules, such as all night learning and eating dairy. If we lived in an agrarian society, as Bnei Yisrael once did, Shavuos might have a more potent impact as we would be right in the middle of the spring harvest. We would have been working for weeks, and we would be highly aware of all the effort that went into the production of the food. If we were running a farm, we might come to feel that all the grain we had brought for the omer offering was enough to lose from one’s hard work. But, “Perhaps the Torah wanted to inform us that the owner of a field from which the barley for the Omer sacrifice has already been taken is still subject to the variety of tithes the farmer is commanded to leave for the poor when he harvests his field” (Or HaChaim on Leviticus 23:22:1). The Or Hachaim goes on to say that the Torah interrupts itself here, in Vayirka 23, so that a person would not think that their barley field would “no longer be subject to the legislation of the various donations which have to be separated from the harvest” (ibid.).

 

This is a very practical and efficient understanding of the verse. Perhaps we can add to that an understanding for the Jewish generations of the 21^st century, most of whom are not agrarian and none of whom yet have access to the Beish Hamikdash.

 

Reaping the harvest of the land is the glorious culmination of hard work. Our chagim are the gathering times that we today, with our long-distance families and our overbooked lives, can look forward to as a time to get back to what is most important – our spirituality and our relationship with God. On all of these holidays, we must stop and be aware not just of how fortunate we are but also on how we can help others in a dignified and meaningful way.

 

This reminder could be inferred for any of the more agriculturally aligned holidays – the shlosh regalim. It is inserted after the commandment of Shavuos, perhaps because Pesach and Sukkot are themselves so full of mitzvot and are therefore busy times for this reminder. Or perhaps it is the other way around. Sukkot and Pesach surround the winter. In the fall, as the temperatures drop, we are all aware of the upcoming need for stocked food and warm clothing. In the early spring of Pesach, we have not yet recovered from the winter, so we are more aware and conscientious of those in need who might have suffered more challenges. But in the late spring/early summer, when warm air and the sunny skies make us all feel joyful and lighthearted and optimistic and we are celebrating a holiday for which we do not have weeks of physical preparation, it is easy to be wrapped up in a sense of ease.  But even if it is warm and sunny, there are still many people who are struggling to get their basic essentials.

 

This probably is not the reason that Vayikra 23:22 is included in the middle of all the chagim. However, with today’s lifestyle being so very different from that of the majority of our ancestors, we need to seek out an application that resonates. The laws of the Torah are laws that can be eternally applied; it is up to us to see a deeper perspective and to recognize that Hashem has made it clear that chesed is always important.

Enjoy the spring. Enjoy our movement toward the celebration of Matan Torah. Have a beautiful Shabbas.

Parshas Emor: Finding Meaning in the Holidays

Although we know that the names of parshios are based on the first significant word in the divided section, Emor – Say – is appropriate even for the second chapter, the section that discusses the Jewish festivals. In chapter 23, each of the holidays is introduced by the phrase: “Vayidaber Hashem el Moshe laymor, And God spoke to Moshe to say.” The phrase is used as follows: 23:1 - it leads to an announcement that the festivals designated as a holy convocation are about to be listed, Shabbas above all, and then Pesach (23:1-8). 23:9 – is a discussion and description of the bringing of the omer and the counting of the 50 days until the offering of the loaves on the 50th day, which is Shavuos. (23:9-21). 23:24 – introduces a short section only two verses long that tells the people of the holiday of the Shofar (23:24-25). 23:26 – is the description of Yom Kippur. (23:26-32). And 23:33 – instructs the Jewish people about Sukkos (23:33-36). After 23:33-26, the Torah states, “These are the appointed festivals of Hashem that you shall proclaim as holy convocations to offer”… and then lists the offerings.

It seems a neat and tidy package set off at the beginning and end by a firm declaration that these are the holidays. And yet, that it is not exactly neat and tidy because there are two strange discrepancies that completely ignore the “And God Spoke to Moshe to say” pattern. The first are verses 23:22-23, which is skipped in the above summary. The second are verses 23:39-43.

In the middle of the description of the holidays and at the conclusion of the instructions on the holiday of Shavuos, the Torah seems to interrupt itself to say: “When you reap the harvest of your land, you shall not remove completely the corners of your field as you reap, and you shall not gather the gleanings of your harvest for the poor and the prostelyte shall you leave them. I am Hashem, your God.” As significant a mitzvah as this is, it is not a commandment specifically connected to either the seasonal mitzvah of counting the Omer (and the laws of what you can or cannot do with the Omer during that time) or the holiday of Shavuos. And with the addition of the last three words, Ani Hashem Ehlokeichem (“I am Hashem, your God”), it is almost as if these two verses were taken from parshas Kiddushim and dropped randomly into the description of the holy convocations during which special offerings were to be brought as part of the holiday celebrations.

The second incongruity is that the perek does not conclude with Verses 23:37-38 declaration that these are the appointed time. The perek continues on with a second description of the holiday of Sukkos, a description that includes the commandments of lulav and esrog and the dwelling in booths (sukkos) and is not introduced by “And God spoke to Moshe to say.” This subsection begins with a far more descriptive explanation of the time: “But on the fifteenth day of the seventh month, when you gather in the crop of the Land, you shall celebrate Hashem’s festival…”

That these two sets of verses are the “exceptions to the rule” in Chapter 23 signifies, perhaps, that there is a connection. Both sections remind us that, ultimately, everything we have truly belongs to Hashem.

The mitzvah of leaving the corner of one’s fields for those in need to come and glean from is a mitzvah not only of tzedakah, but also a reminder of Hashem’s Dominion. That which we have is a blessing from Hashem, and we must share it with our brethren.

The holiday of Sukkos, particularly our dwelling in temporary huts, has a similar “theme” that is only established in this final subsection of the perek. When it is time to rejoice in the gathering in of the crops, leave your sturdy house and your fine possessions and come dwell under the sky so that you remember that the ultimate source of blessing is Hashem.

One can also see significance in the order of these two sections. Although Chapter 23 is primarily about days of not working and the sacrifices to be brought to the Mishkan or Temple, underlying it all is a hint toward the agricultural cycle of the year, and agriculture is a general reference to parnasa (income). We begin in the spring by celebrating ourselves as a nation, and, almost immediately, we are reminded of the importance of mitzvos bein adam l’chaveiro – of taking care of one another. We end the year reflecting on our relationship with Hashem, and are reminded that Hashem is the ultimate source. One might think that it should be the opposite. Indeed, because of the name Rosh Hashana, we often think of the holidays of the seventh month as the beginning of the year. So too, when we think about spirituality we often think that it starts with the mitzvos bein adam l’makom, the mitzvos between man and God. But in Judaism, the interpersonal mitzvos come first. We must recognize that Hashem gives us blessings so that we can emulate His care of others in order to be able to recognize our true relationship with Him.

Desecration and Curses (Emor)

 The final verses of Chapter 22 of Vayikra, at the heart of this week’s parashas Emor, seem, in some ways, to fold in upon themselves. “You shall not profane My holy name, that I may be sanctified in the midst of the Israelite people—I am the Lord who sanctifies you, Who brought you out of the land of Egypt to be your God, I the Lord” (Vayikra 22:32-33). It would seem obvious that in a place where God’s name was being profaned the ability to truly sanctify God’s name would be greatly hampered.

Vayikra 22:32, the commandment not to create a chillul Hashem, is one that is frequently discussed within the Jewish community. We try to be pointedly aware of when our behavior reflects badly on our people, and thus on God, and we teach our children to strive to be a Kiddush Hashem always. One might think that the latter should come first, that we would be instructed to strive to sanctify God’s name and, in this way, we will avoid profaning it. But Hashem knows human nature and that it is easier to prohibit bad behavior than to specifically encourage good behaviors. Think how many times parenting experts say that you should try to praise good behavior – like praising your children for not fighting – except that is actually a much harder task.

Indeed, God adds an extra incentive for this behavior, reminding the people that it is He who brought us out of slavery and, more importantly, that He sanctifies us. We must avoid chillul Hashem because we are sanctified constantly by our very existence outside of slavery, and our state of being constantly sanctified by Hashem and recognizing it is how Hashem is sanctified in the midst of the people. Our behavior must be a constant reflection of the fact that we are sanctified.

It is, however, also interesting to note that these verses are the conclusion of a perek of sacrificial dos and don’ts that are specifically directed to the kohanim: “The Lord spoke to Moses, saying: Speak to Aaron and to his sons, that they shall separate themselves from the holy [sacrifices] of the children of Israel, which they sanctify to Me, so as not to desecrate My Holy Name” (22:1-2). And yet, it still has incredible implication for all of our people.

This chapter is followed by chapter 23, which is a complete listing of the festivals, of the ability of the Jewish people to sanctify time in honor of Hashem. Chapter 24, the final chapter of the parsha, begins with a discussion of the menorah and the showbreads, but then switches to the seemingly out of place story of the son of an Israelite woman (named Shulamit) and an Egyptian man. This son of an Israelite woman quarreled with an Israelite man, and the son of the Israelite woman ended up cursing God’s name. He was arrested and eventually stoned.

The Midrash and the commentaries provide the background to this story. The mother was a woman who was considered flirtatious and provocative. She was from the tribe of Dan, and, therefore, this man believed that he had a right to a place in that camp, but the Danites disagreed. They brought the argument to Moshe. When the court did not side in his favor, the son of the Israelite woman was so angry he cursed in God’s name.

Although certainly the man’s actions were his own, one cannot help but speculate what might have happened if he had been treated with more kindness by the Tribe of Dan (not to say that they were wrong, specifically). He should have been treated in a way that would have recognized his innate B’tzelem Elokim and connection to the Jewish people through his mother* – after all, along with all the Jews, he was protected from the plagues, traveled safely through the Sea of Reeds, received the Torah at Sinai, and survived by eating the miraculous manna in the Wilderness. All of these were Divine acts that kept him safe and sound – he could have come to be one who was able to sanctify Hashem’s name.

This is, of course, speculation. However, it brings us back to our more global understanding of avoiding chillul Hashem in order to allow kiddush Hashem (desecration/sanctification of God’s name). If we do not adhere to measures of kindness and moral behavior, we risk creating situations where God’s name is the opposite of sanctified. Everyday, within our homes and when in public, we have the opportunity, and sometimes the challenge, of these hand-in-hand mitzvot.

*As he was born prior to Mount Sinai and the giving of the Torah, he was subject to patrilineal descent rather than matralineal, which then became halacha.

The Source of Blasphemy (Emor)

Because we live in an era in which almost nothing is held sacred, the term blasphemer seems somewhat archaic. Ok, honestly, when I hear the word blasphemer, I hear it in upper case, a word shouted out by an angry looking old man with a long finger pointing at someone else. But in Hebrew, the blasphemer is ham’kaelel, he who makes light - and in the Torah, blasphemy is nothing to take lightly!

At the end of this week’s parsha, the Torah relates how the son of an Israelite woman, whose father was an Egyptian, fought with an Israelite man. The first man then blasphemed with the name of God and made a mockery of that which was holy. He was taken into custody “to clarify for themselves through Hashem” (24:10-12).

Hashem told them to take him outside of the camp, for the witnesses of his blaspheme to put their hands on his head, and for the entire assembly to stone him. “Any man who will blaspheme his God shall bear his sin; and one who pronounces blasphemously the Name of Hashem shall be put to death, the entire assembly shall surely stone him; proselyte and native alike, when he blasphemes the Name, he shall be put to death” (24:15-16).  Seven pasukim later, it is recorded that Moses told this to Children of Israel, and they took him out and stoned him and “the Children of Israel did as Hashem had commanded” (23-24).

In between God’s instructions and the conclusion with action, Hashem lists off a number of crimes and consequences. If a man mortally wounds any human, then his life is forfeit. If a man kills an animal, then he must make restitution. If a man wounds another person than, “so shall be done to him...just as he will have inflicted a wound on a person, so shall be inflicted upon him (financially)” (20). And then a reiteration “One who strikes an animal shall make restitution, and one who strikes a person shall be put to death. There shall be one law for you, it shall be for the proselyte and native alike, for I, Hashem, am your God” (21-22).

Why are verses 17-22, the list of actions and consequences, included? Should God have just told Moshe what the punishment for blaspheme was, and that’s it since that was the question on the table? And why is it mentioned twice in this chapter that the ruling is the same for the proselyte and the native alike?

The issue of the proselyte and native is interesting because it makes one question just who this man was who blasphemed. He was, after all the son of an Israelite woman. However, according to the mepharshim, until matan Torah Jewish lineage was patriarchal. It only became matriarchal after matan Torah and this man was born before the Israelites came to Mount Sinai. Some are then of the opinion that everyone at Mount Sinai accepted Hashem and His Torah and so this man was like a proselyte. Hashem was making certain that it was clear that it did not matter what this man’s lineage was, for he had blasphemed God’s name.

The people were now learning that blasphemy, which can seem benign, is a capital crime. The list of actions and consequences that follow could, perhaps, be understood as God adding in a reminder that no man can take judgement into his own hands. If one hears someone blaspheme, one cannot just smite the blasphemer because that would be murder. The mention of restitution for an injured animal is a distinction between the punishment for murdering a man verses the consequence of killing an animal. And here, too, one cannot make excuses based on the other person’s lineage. Hashem makes no distinction.

A zealous person hearing another make a mockery of Hashem and the Torah might struggle with a desire to react. Blasphemy, unless done in a very public manner, could be hard to prove. The Chatam Sofer notes that “by using the term v’nasah cheto, he shall bear his sin (24:15), the Torah is implying that Hashem will deliberately bear (i.e. hold back from punishing) the sin of the blasphemer for a while but will eventually punish him. Contrary to the blasphemer’s assertion - which mocked many sacred aspects of Torah - that if Hashem could, He would have stricken me down immediately, the Torah assures us of his eventual punishment.”

Another interesting commentary quoted the Meshech Chachma: “Generally, when a person ridicules something, he poisons the minds of those present, turning them against the thing he is deriding. However, the present verse (...and the people of Israel did as Hashem had commanded Moshe) testifies that the blasphemer’s words had no effect at all on Israel...”

The blasphemer was unsuccessful in influencing those around him. But in reading this section of the parsha, one could, perhaps, feel some compassion for him. Rashi explains this man’s story (citing the Midrash): The fight, according to the Midrash, occurred when the son of the Israelite woman, whose father was Egyptian, set up his tent in the camp of his mother’s tribe, Dan. An Israelite man from the tribe of Dan told him that since the ruling was to set up their tents according to the tribe of their father, he had no place there. They took their dispute to Moshe’s court, and the ruling went against the son of the Israelite woman. Angry at the way he felt he had been unfairly treated, the man blasphemed with the name of God.

There was a comment in the Artscroll Stone Chumash commentaries after its citation of Rashi’s rendition of the Midrash, “The Torah mentions the fight because if they had argued rationally, they would not have come to blows; had they merely disputed, there would have been no blasphemy.” While it is true that his blasphemy did not affect anyone else’s belief in Hashem or His Torah, one can hope that it caused a great deal of self-reflection. How did this man who had witnessed the exodus from Egypt and the giving of the Torah and all the other miracles of the midbar come to make a mockery of Hashem?...because he was pushed away because of his background.

The lesson we can draw from it is that the best way each of us can guard the holiness of Hashem is by being aware of the feelings of other people.