Last week we started a new book of the Torah, and the text took a turn into a whole new direction.
The final five sections of Shmote, the previous book of the Torah, described the fabrication and construction of the Mishkan, the prototype of all Israel’s national cultic shrines. Vayikra immediately starts off telling us what to do in the Mishkan, and later the Beit Hamikdash, once it is constructed and consecrated. Last week the Torah detailed a number of different sacrifices, some voluntary, some incumbent, that individuals offer. This week the Torah begins by detailing the work that the Kohanim (priests) perform in the Mishkan at night, when the rest of the nation is not present.
The first and last sacrifice offered each day is the Tamid. It is offered on behalf of the whole nation of Israel. The morning Tamid is offered as soon as the sun has risen and the afternoon Tamid must be brought before sunset. What then is there for the Kohanim to do in the Mishkan at night? Our parsha details two essential deeds that the Kohanim performed in the Mishkan on behalf of the nation in its absence.
The first service that is described in our parsha is the burning of the limbs and bread that remained on the altar after the last sacrifice was brought in the evening. The second service is the cleaning of the altar in the morning before the first sacrifice in the morning. In his commentary on the beginning of this chapter, Rashi points out that these acts bring no material benefit to the Kohanim performing them, i.e. many of the sacrifices are eaten in part by the Kohanim who offer them, but the two acts detailed at the beginning of our parsha offer nothing to physically benefit the Kohanim. Thus, all that is left is spiritual benefit. What is the spiritual lesson to be learned from these two acts?
When an animal was sacrificed, its blood was applied to the base of the altar, the animal was skinned and quartered and then, depending on what kind of sacrifice it was, various parts of the animal were burnt on the altar. With the placing of the limbs on the altar, the work of the sacrifice was completed, so why do the Kohanim have to stay up all night making sure that the limbs burned properly? There is the technical aspect — by the end of the day, after all the parts of all the sacrifices were on the altar, it took a long time to burn them all and, if not properly managed, they could smother the fire. If each sacrifice was brought alone in absence of all other sacrifices, then we would not have this problem, but when we gather to act as a group then there are often unintended consequences. Thus, while no one person’s sacrifice was responsible for this potential problem, it existed, and someone had to take care of it.
The Kohanim were technicians of the soul. The work they did with the sacrifices had a profound effect on the individual and national level. The commandment to ensure that all of the limbs are burnt on the altar at night is a profound insight in how we care for others. When we seek to help others, it is not enough to give them our energy and attention for the initial part of their recovery. When helping my son stand up, I have to hold my hands out to him long after he is on his feet. Further, I need to take into consideration the environment into which I am releasing him. Just as the Kohanim had to make sure that all of the limbs burned, so too when I am helping another I need to make sure that what I am offering them does not cause damage to or inhibit their growth.
The next aspect of the Kohanim’s work that is detailed in our parsha is the cleaning of the ashes from the altar. This would seem to be a simple piece of maintenance work, but the Torah specifically commands that the Kohen performing the act be clothed in the same garments worn during all other sacrifices. Further, although the altar was large enough to not require a daily cleaning, no other sacrifice was permitted without the cleaning of ashes from the altar. The first act of spiritual work we engage in each day then is cleaning up from what came before. The lesson then is that though we start each day anew, our ability to progress spiritually is rooted in what came before. We are each obligated to heal the world that we have been born into and that which we have been left from previous generations is not merely a mess that we have to deal with — rather, it is the basis for all of our potential growth.
In Poland, Israel and nearly everywhere else, the Jewish communities are struggling to deal with a difficult recent history. As Poles, we are still trying to learn how to function after the Shoah and forty years of communism. In Israel, we are struggling to integrate Jews from all over the world and political spectrum while trying to overcome centuries of animosity between Jews and Arabs. Often we feel that if only we didn’t have these realities hobbling us, we could truly soar. This week’s parsha comes to inform us that the past, rather than holding us back, is the foundation upon which we are building our glorious present, and that as we plan for the future, it must be one in which we remain fully engaged with all those we seek to lift up with us.
Shabbat Shalom and Pesach Sameach!
Rabbi Yehoshua Ellis grew up in Overland Park and attended HBHA, was an Eagle Scout with Troop 61, and helped restart AZA Chapter #2. He currently is a rabbi in the Jewish Community of Warsaw, Poland, and Chief Rabbi of Katowice, Poland. He can be reached at .
