[Jewish] [Mindful Torah] Commentary on Parshat Tzav

Rabbi Steven Nathan mindfultorah at gmail.com
Thu Mar 25 23:58:07 EDT 2010


This week's torah portion is Tzav (Vayikra/Leviticus 6:1 - 8:36). In it
the detailed descriptions of the various sacrifices to be offered
continues. I would like to focus on one particular sacrifice and what
we might learn from it today.
The final sacrifice mentioned in the parashah is the zevakh shelamim.
This is usually translated as the "peace offering" or "good-will
offering.” The word shelamim comes from the same root as shalom/peace
and shalem/whole. One contemporary understanding of this sacrifice is
as an offering of greeting. According to Baruch Levine and other
scholars, it was a meal shared between the priests, the people who
brought the offering and God. In other words, through sharing a sacred
meal there was a connection being made between the people, the priests
and the Divine. Not only was this a meal of greeting, but the sharing
of the sacrificial animal could also bring a sense of peace and
wholeness that was a direct result of feeling connected to God and
community (as represented be the priests). The sharing of this
sacrifice allowed the participants to experience, in a visceral way,
the connection that exists between all human beings and remind us of
the shelaimut/wholeness and achdut/oneness of existence. And when the
final portion of the sacrifice was offered on the altar to God, it was
as if God was partaking of the sacrifice along with the priest and the
worshipper.

I could not help but beginning comparing this to the Christian ritual
of the Eucharist, or Holy Communion. In this ritual, the worshipper
partakes of the wafer and the wine that have been consecrated by the
priest, minister or Officiant. In the Roman Catholic Church, the
doctrine of transubstantiation states that the wine and wafer actually
‘become’ the body and blood of Jesus (I.e., ‘the sacrifice’) when the
priest consecrates it. In most other churches, they a representation of
his body and blood. In either case, this is a ritual whereby a human
being ingests divinity, or its representation.

I must admit that this ritual has always simultaneously intrigued and
repelled me. I feel repelled because it seems anathema to the Jewish
way of worship. I don’t think I can ever understand it’s true meaning
for our Christian brothers and sisters. On the other hand, since in
Judaism the actual sacrifice and the concomitant meal have been
replaced with the more abstract concept of “prayer as sacrifice,” the
idea of this physical ritual has always intrigued me as well.

In my understanding of the ritual of the Eucharist in the Roman
Catholic Church (that with which I am most familiar) the sacred meal is
also connected to achieving forgiveness for sin as well as connecting
to the Divine. This occurs by believing that one is actually ingesting
divinity into one’s body (I realize that I am not doing justice to the
complexity of Christian theology, and I ask forgiveness from my
Christian friends and colleagues for this).
However, in the ancient Israelite sacrificial system the idea of
ingesting God, or even a representation of God, was indeed anathema.
For our ancestors, the sacred meal consisted simply of the priest and
the worshipper eating a meal together and symbolically sharing it with
God. This meal consisted of ordinary meat from an ordinary, although
unblemished, animal. The meat was not made sacred or divine through any
kind of blessing or ritual. Rather, what made this ordinary meal
extraordinary, was not the fact that it was “perfect” or that it was
slaughtered, prepared and cooked by the priest. Rather, what made this
meal extraordinary was that it was being shared with God. It was a
reminder that, even though the priests had a different status in their
society, and that God was beyond being human, all three entities shared
something. That something, represented by the sacrificial meal, is
Oneness. Oneness in this case means that ultimately there is no
separation or duality in existence. Oneness is at the heart of
Kedushah/holiness that plays such a central role in Va’yikra/Leviticus
and the entire Torah.

Eating a sacred meal does not make one any more or less holy, nor does
the slaughter of the sacrifice by the priest (akin to the consecration
of the wafer and wine by Christian clergy today) make the sacrifice
holy. Rather, what makes the act and all the participants holy is the
recognition of the deeper meaning, that we are all part of God. God is
within us all, for we are all One within God.

Just as a fetus floating in a sea of amniotic fluid in a mother’s womb
is part of the mother while still a distinct entity, so too are we
floating in the sea of Godliness a part of God, yet distinct
individuals. Of course, there is a major difference, since in Judaism
the fetus is not viewed as an actual life, whereas we are human beings
with personalities, character traits and, for better or worse, egos.
Yet, perhaps the sacrifice and the sacred meal are meant to remind us
that in reality this is actually an illusion. Perhaps we are not
complete on our own? We may believe (or our ego may trick us into
believing) that we are self-sufficient. However, the necessity of
eating the sacred meal – which is commanded – tells us something
different. It tells us that without God we are not complete. Our
independence is merely an illusion. This applies to all of us,
including the priests. We do not need to ingest God in order to know
this, for God is already within us for we are within God. Instead, in
sharing the zevakh shelamim, the sacrifice of wholeness and
completeness, we arer eminded that the connection to the Divine is our
essence. Without acknowledging that, we are like a fetus without the
umbilical cord. We are surrounded and filled with God, and yet, unable
to connect, we
are unable, spiritually, to survive.

However, we must also be cognizant of the fact that, while our
ancestors were experiencing this through the sacred meal, God was also
‘partaking’ of the meal in the form of accepting the smoke of the
sacrifice. Can the message beneath this part of the ritual be that God
is also incomplete without human beings? If we say this, aren’t we
exhibiting the exact type of
egotistical hubris that we are supposed to be letting go of through
this ritual? Perhaps.

God is Ehad/One, then God is whole and complete. Yet some, such as R.
Abraham Joshua Heschel, z”l (may his memory be a blessing) might say
that God needs us as well. as we need God. However, as my friend and
colleague R. Ethan Franzel pointed out to me, that is a concept that
has been created by human beings. Perhaps we want to believe that God
needs to be needed, just as we need to be needed. This is an idea that
we find pleasing and comforting. Perhaps that is why, in the Torah, the
authors refered to the aroma of the sacrifices as a rei’akh nikho’ah,
or pleasing odor.
When all is said and one, the sacrificial meal and its replacement, the
prayer service, are not meant to make God complete. Nor are they meant
to make human beings complete. Rather, they are meant to remind human
beings of the unity, wholeness and completeness that already exists.
Oneness is the essence of existence. Through sacrifice in the past and
prayer today, we are reminded of the truth that ‘God is One’ means that
all is one withi God. We are all a part of the Divine flow of energy
that sustains our universe.

Perhaps the need to have a physical reminder of this Oneness lay behind
the development of the Eucharist as a central ritual in Christianity? I
have not studied this enough to know. However, I do believe that within
Judaism we have tried throughout the centuries to create an experience
akin to sacrifice through which we can sense the Oneness at the heart
of existence. Prayer as “sacrifice of the heart” as the early rabbis
called it, was meant to be a spontaneous, passionate way of experience
unity and wholeness.

The Kabbalists (mystics) and Hassidim tried to revive this sense of
cleaving to the oneness of divinity through prayer, meditation, deeds
of kindness and other “spiritual practices.” Today, we must take all
that our tradition has provided for us and determine what works best
for us so we can achieve the same goals. However, we also need to
remember that the critera must not be objective, ego-centered ones such
as “it feels good to me.” Rather, the main criterion is whether a
particular practice enables us to experience the reality of Oneness,
completeness and wholeness that we imagine our ancient ancestors felt
as they shared a meal with God. This is not easy. Yet, if we simply let
go and allow it ti happen, it is much simpler than we imagine. That is
the truth.

Shabbat Shalom.

--
Posted By Rabbi Steven Nathan to Mindful Torah at 3/25/2010 11:58:00 PM
-------------- next part --------------
An HTML attachment was scrubbed...
URL: <https://lists.hampshire.edu/pipermail/jewish/attachments/20100325/77c2b669/attachment.htm>


More information about the Jewish mailing list