Parshas Tzav – For the All Nighter

 Parshas Tzav starts out with a seemingly straight-forward instruction: “And Hashem spoke to Moshe, saying: Command Aaron and his sons thus - This is the ritual of the burnt offering: The burnt offering itself shall remain where it is burned upon the altar all night until morning, while the fire on the altar is kept going on it” (Vayikra 6:1-2).

 

Why, one might ask, does the Torah that wastes no words, define the time the oleh is burned as “Kol halaylah ad haboker…all night until the morning”? When else does the night end if not in the morning? Why do these two extra words have to be added?

 

But wait, before that can be answered, one has to realize that the burnt offering was not an exclusively night activity. There were many different times when an “oleh” was brought, and, in fact, just three pasukim later is the instruction that in the morning, “The priest must kindle wood upon it every morning, and he must arrange the cut-up pieces of the morning daily ascent-offering upon it” (6:5).  The question therefore arises as to why Hashem began the laws of the oleh with instructions that it must be minded all night.

 

The evening offering of the oleh is the first of each day – remember: vayehi erev, vayehi boker. It is right that the offering made in the late evening or in the dark of night is explained first, but that does not explain the extra wording.

 

Now some people are what we call “night owls.” They can stay up all night, repeatedly. But they are not morning people. Perhaps Hashem wanted to give those night-owl Kohanim a job well suited to them. In truth, however, even the night owls rarely stay up ALL night, it just feels like they do.

 

Hashem included the term ad haboker because all night means all night. It does not say ad ayelet hashachar, until the crack of dawn, which could easily be assumed to be the start of morning. But that moment of ayelet hashachar actually precedes boker. Boker implies a time by which one can start to discern what things are because there is now light.  

 

Defining boker does not explain why Hashem included it in this pasuk. The Kli Yakar has several interesting thoughts on this pasuk (which I encourage you to go look up ), and he begins his commentary thus:

 

Command Aaron and his sons, saying. The term command [tzav] always implies urging, both immediately and for generations. Rabbi Shimon said: The Scripture needs to especially emphasize urging in situations where there is financial loss. Urging is only needed in places of laziness, and it is written ‘Laziness casts one into a deep sleep’ (Proverbs 19:15), and it is written ‘How long will you lie down, O lazy one?’ (Proverbs 6:9). Here, the commandment involves tending to the fire burning all night until morning, and there is concern that due to the natural laziness in people, one might fall into slumber and ruin the sacrifice (Translation from Sefaria).

 

The financial loss that the Kli Yakar is referring to is that the offering will be incomplete and thus ruined if the fire goes out. But the idea is acknowledging the challenge and risk of a statement of all night. Ad Haboker is a push, a definition that the kohein tending the oleh understands that he himself cannot define when “all night” is over. He must stay up and alert until the morning.

 

How is this relevant to us today? As a schoolteacher, I am often faced with the implied question of why an assigned work is necessary. Sometimes an assignment really isn’t necessary for a particular student to learn the lesson, but they need to do it anyway because they are learning a work ethic. Hereto, Hashem’s very specific command kol halayla ad haboker teaches us an ethic of diligence even when it is difficult.

 

It is particularly relevant as we near the seder, a moment in the Jewish calendar in which night time is highly relevant. There is an encouragement to stretch the seder far into the night  - but to eat the afikomen before halachic midnight – and that isn’t always easy for some people, especially after a very busy day of preparations. And this thought can help us, can inspire us, to stay diligent and alert throughout the seder. (Trust me, that’s a lecture to myself!)

 

I want to wish you all a beautiful shabbas and a chag kasher v’sameach, and may all of you in Eretz Yisrael have only seder night to be up all night. Let peace be upon you and no more horrid nights in bomb shelters.

Parshas Vayikra – Beautiful Bread

 Dedicated to a refuah shelaima for Masha Frayda bas Goldie, Chana Zelda bat Gittel Yita, Batya Dina bas Chava Tzivia, Chaya Sarah bas Esther Leah, Moshe Aaron ben Necha Itta, Binyamin ben Simcha, and Yaakov ben Esther Malka.

 

In just a few short weeks, the majority of the Jewish people (those not afflicted with gluten issues!) will be pondering the many ways we shall once again enjoy fresh hot challah or a steaming bagel while we stare at the lechem oni before us. “Bread of affliction” the Passover matzah is indeed to those of us who relish the taste, the feel, the sight, the smell … well, the everything of bread.

 

This is not, however, a Pesach Dvar Torah. This is a Dvar Torah on Parshas Vayikra, but within this first parsha of the third sefer of the chumash, the love of bread is easily recalled. The second perek of Parshas Vayikra discusses the mincha offering. The first description of the mincha offering is that of grain – of choice flour – that, after wetting it with oil, the Kohain can scoop up and “poof” into the fire so that it goes up in smoke. There are, however, two other types of mincha offering that are immediately described: a grain offering baked in an oven and a grain offering prepared on a griddle.

 

There are many reasons why a person might bring prepared grain as opposed to loose flour for their offering – perhaps it was easier to transport. It is interesting, however, that the verses describing the pre-prepared offerings are followed by an unobtrusive instruction: “Break it into bits and pour oil on it; it is a grain offering” (Vayikra 2:6).

 

It’s such a simple line and such a no-big-deal commandment, and yet there remains the question of why. What is significant about these offerings that in order to be properly offered on the mizbayach, they must be destroyed?

 

As noted earlier, bread is a funny thing. It is incredibly simple to make, perhaps the simplest food on earth, and yet it is a food that people revel in, indulge in…fight their tayva for! Bread represents basic survival, and bread represents indulgence and comfort. The simplest form of bread is a combination of flour and water – that is not the mincha offering. A mincha offering is a little more elevated than simple bread as it is always a combination of flour and oil – even the mincha soles, the poof of flour into the flame, is flour with oil.

 

Flour is necessity, but oil is comfort. Rabbi Shimshon Raphael Hirsch says (on Vayikra 1:1) that flour is “generally used as the basic idea of food, of nourishment, as a symbol of the necessities of life, can be accepted without further proof, and to bring flour as a mincha as a sign of homage, would express the idea that the condition for our very existence lies in the hands of Him to Whom the sign of homage is brought. If oil is added… to the general conception of simply ‘nourishment’ is added the idea of ‘comfort.’” Adding Frankincense, as is done in the case of the mincha soles, moves it from comfort to luxury. In his commentary on verses 4-7, Hirsh posits that the mincha offering expresses acknowledgement to God for food, comfort, and satisfaction.

 

Bread is a miraculous food, and it is the ultimate partnership between Hashem and mankind because Hashem provides the seed, the kernal, that mankind transforms into sustenance. Think about the process of making bread. In truth, it seems almost miraculous that any human ever figured it out… hmm, if I just crush this little hard bit down a lot and add some water and then throw that in the fire!

 

Of course, mankind took things a step or three further. We make our bread beautiful (just think of the challahs of your Shabbas table) and we give meaning to our bread. We take pride in “putting bread upon the table.” Thus, we might also note that bread, as much as it is symbolic of Hashem’s gift of food, also represents mankind’s hubris, the desire to say: “Look what I’ve accomplished.”

 

The idea that bread can represent pride is particularly interesting when one notes that the prepared mincha offerings are called matzah in the Torah. They are unleavened. We think of matzah and immediately, according to so many discussions from early education on, we consider matzah to already be humble, to not have risen as chametz does. But the unleavened offering of the mincha was not the matza of Pesach, the lechem oni – the bread of affliction/the poor man’s bread. Pesach matzah is bread and water, and a touch of salt, I believe. But the mincha included oil. It was richer. It was enticing. It was the taking of sustenance and bringing it to the next level.

 

This leads back to Vayikra 2:6 and the commandment to break apart the mincha offering before it goes into the fire on the alter. The mincha soles, the basic flour offering, although mixed with both oil and frankincense, is bread before it is bread, The bread or griddle cake that was brought was “completed” by human hand and breaking it is a reminder of the miraculous nature of bread, as sustenance, as gift from Hashem.

Purim 5786

Purim Thoughts 5786

There is one element of the Purim story that has always bothered me, and it seems relevant in multiple ways at this time. Achashverosh is the king from hodu ad kush. He has the power to, on the spur of the moment, execute the queen - the one who is actually of royal blood - and then declare laws about wives obeying husbands...but he isn't allowed to reneg his permission for people to attack Jews?! The best he can do is declare permission for Jews to defend themselves?

This just seems...odd. It wasn't like he had a Parliament or Congress  (or a National Assembly) to answer to. He was an absolute monarch who could spend the nation's treasury on a 180 day party!

But, as with so many concepts in our Jewish lives, that discussed in antiquity takes a suddenly new and jarring meaning when looked at from where we are in technology. For instance, al kanfei nesharim seemed like a fantastical idea - people flying from the four corners of the earth (which, of course, has no corners) is no longer so fantastical in an age of airplanes.

So why wasn’t Achashverosh’s power so all-powerful? Social media has amplified what has always been true, what we have always “mosheled” (did I just create a new verb?) about lashon harah - once an idea is released, it is nearly impossible to undo. Achashverosh’s terrible letters went out, and those who had reason to hate Jews not only had time to put preparations into place, but to spread their insidious hate. They had time to wear-down the basic morality most people probably had wherein they knew it would be wrong to attack their neighbors. They had time to revise history and to de-humanize. 

How easily we have seen that once a story hits the news (Israel bombs hospital!) it is nearly impossible to discredit it. It’s been published, so it must be real. And even in the 21st century when we are all so acutely aware of the trappings of the internet and social media, most of us fall for it anyway. 

It wasn’t as simple as Achashverosh being unable to revoke a decree he had passed. It was that trying to revoke that law would have proven near impossible. Months of energy that had gathered behind their preparations to attack the Jews could not be undone in so short a time period – but the tables could be turned and the Jews could defend themselves.

When I was in my 20’s and first did a close reading of the Megillah, I was horrified at the numbers killed on Purim - 75,000… not Jews, but our enemies. What is easy to forget, when looking at figures, is that the people who were killed were those who came to attack. The Jews were given permission to “assemble and fight for their lives; if any people or province attacks them, they may destroy, massacre, and exterminate its armed force together with women and children, and plunder their possessions” (8:11).

That was the power of the underground campaign. Even knowing that the king had permitted the Jews to defend themselves, tens of thousands were still willing to attack because their hatred had taken over both their morality and their sense of self preservation!  Were the instigators all Amaleck, like Haman Ha’Agagi? Perhaps - but even in the time of Esther, those lineages were already blurred and the ability to fulfill the commandment of wiping out Amaleck was no longer contemplatable because we could not tell who was Amaleck (except, you know, the guy flaunting the Agagi title). 

We live in a world today where we can watch hate spread. And I feel I must be blunt and say that that is a two way street as well - there are plenty of Jewish “influencers” who create anger against others forgetting that we can no longer cast blanket statements on the character of nations since we can no longer truly identify the 70 nations. 

In the last few years, we have all watched in amazement and horror how anti-Semitism has become more acceptable and how easily people not only look the other way but find reasons to excuse or accept it. And while the answer in the Purim story came from a miracle of reversals, we must follow the lessons of Megillas Esther. We must be clear in who our enemy is - as Esther articulated about Haman. We must stay calm and set the stage up to be heard properly - as Esther does when she invites the king and Haman to a private party. We must turn to Hashem and daven - as she asked the Jewish nation to do.

I wish you all a frielichen Purim and may we all come to understand the miracles hidden in our time and let them draw us closer to Hashem.

This Dvar Torah was written in honor of my father’s yahrtzeit today: Avraham Ephraim Beryl ben Yaakov HaLevi.