Torat Moishe - Moishe's Torah

Parshat Shemini
29 Nisan 5772 / April 20 – 21, 2012
Vayikra 9:1 – 11:40

Me, Myself, and My Community
by Steph Snyder, MH San Diego, Community Member

Torn.

At first glance, this Torah portion is a frustrating series of confusing and often contradictory events. The portion begins with G-d appearing to His people after they had prepared a sacrifice. This is an awesome and joyous occasion:

“[...] And all the people saw, and shouted, and fell on their faces” [Leviticus 9:24]

However, shortly thereafter, a tragedy ensues. Two of Aaron’s sons, upon offering G-d an unrequested flame, are consumed by fire from G-d. Following this, Aaron is surprisingly silent, and Moses, his own brother, forbids Aaron and his remaining sons to mourn properly. To further complicate matters, instead of a clarification or reflection upon what has happened, the portion goes on to explain the ways in which we are to conduct ourselves in the realm of what we eat and drink, such that we can be “clean”.

In the simplest of terms, we start with the holiest of holy (G-d appears before his people in an awesome display) only to digress into the killing of 2 people and a menu.

Through the seemingly chaotic turn of events in this passage, I think there is a consistent message that begins with the punishment of Aaron’s sons. The message is as follows: In order to be complete and holy (above the “basics”), you need to first learn the “basics”: (1) know who you are, (2) know your role in our community, (3) know how to be who you are, and finally (4) know how to fulfill your role in our community.

Aaron’s sons went above what was asked of them. Drunk on the thought of being above the community, they showed no humility, no sense of belonging within the community. Moses recognized this, and doesn’t let Aaron and his remaining sons mourn, but asks that they let the act of mourning fall to their “kinsman [and] all the house of Israel”, emphasizing the importance of community.

To further teach us self-awareness and how to be a part of a community, G-d then gives us the kosher laws. Food is a basic necessity and nourishment. It’s what builds us and sustains us, but it’s also what unites us. Food gives us something to gather around and to share. The kosher laws, centered on food, therefore help us to define ourselves and to build a community. They are a gift of awareness of our actions in order to invoke thoughts of our identity and role in society.

The sentiment and take away message of this week’s Torah portion is simply to constantly remind yourself of who you are, be true to yourself and be true to your role in our community.

Song of Songs

The Rabbis taught: All the writings are holy, but the Song of Songs is the Holy of Holies.

Reprinted from The Jewish Religion: A Companion, published by Oxford University Press, as appearing on My Jewish Learning.

Dating & Authorship

According to the Rabbinic tradition generally, the author of the book is King Solomon (based on the heading: 'The Song of Songs by Solomon,' though this can also mean 'about Solomon') but in the famousTalmudic passage (Bava Batra 15a) on the authorship of the biblical books it is stated that the book was actually written down by King Hezekiah and his associates (based on Proverbs 25:1).

Modern scholarship is unanimous in fixing a much later date for the book than the time of Solomon, though opinions vary regarding the actual date. On the surface, the book is a secular love-poem or a collection of such poems and is considered so to be by the majority of modern biblical scholars.

No doubt because of this surface meaning, the ancient Rabbis, while accepting the Solomonic authorship, debated whether the book should be considered part of the sacred Scriptures. The Mishnah (Yadaim 3:5), after recording this debate, gives the view of Rabbi Akiba, eventually adopted by all the Rabbis, that no one ever debated that the Song of Songs is sacred: 'for all the ages are not worth the day on which the Song of Songs was given to Israel; for all the Ketuvim are holy, but the Song of Songs is the Holy of Holies.'

In the liturgy of the synagogue, Song of Songs is recited during the morning service on the intermediate Sabbath of Passover. Under the influence of the Kabbalah the custom arose in some circles, especially inHasidism, of reciting the Song of Songs on the eve of the Sabbath.

Interpreting Song of Songs

That the Rabbis in the second century CE could debate whether Song of Songs belongs to sacred Scripture is evidence enough that in this period there were some who took it all literally as a dialogue of love between a man and a woman, sexual desire expressed exquisitely but with the utmost frankness.

One or two Orthodox Jews in the twentieth century did try to suggest that even on the literal level the book can be seen as sacred literature, since love between husband and wife is holy and divinely ordained. But, while there is no explicit rejection of such a literal interpretation in Rabbinic literature, the standard Rabbinic view, and the reason why Rabbi Akiba declared the book to be 'the Holy of Holies,' is that the Rabbis saw the 'lover' as God and the 'beloved' as the community of Israel.

The Rabbis also understood the opening verse as 'Song of Songs about Shelomo' and took the name as referring not to King Solomon but to God, she-ha shalom shelo, 'to whom peace belongs.'

Revealing in this connection is a passage in the Talmud (Sanhedrin, 101a) dating from the second century: 'He who recites a verse of the Song of Songs and treats it as a song and one who recites a verse at a banquet (this usually denotes a wedding feast), unseasonably, brings evil upon the world,' from which it would seem that it was only the profane and frivolous use of the book in its plain meaning to which the Rabbis objected.

Allegories Abound

Nevertheless, throughout Rabbinic literature it is the allegorical meaning that is followed. The Midrash Rabbah to the book interprets the whole book in this vein. For example, the verse (1:2): 'Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth' is interpreted as referring to the revelation at Sinai when Israel took upon itself to keep the Torah and an angel was sent by God to kiss each Israelite.

The verse (1:5); 'I am black but comely' is given the interpretation that the community of Israel says to God: 'I am black through my own deeds, but comely through the deeds of my ancestors,' or 'I am black in my own eyes, but comely in the sight of God,' or 'I am black during the rest of the year, but comely on Yom Kippur.'

The verse: 'Like a lily among thorns, so is my darling among the maidens (2:2)' is interpreted as referring to Israel's oppression by the secular powers: 'Just as a rose, if situated between thorns, when the north wind blows is bent towards the south and is pricked by the thorns, and nevertheless its heart is still turned upwards, so with Israel, although taxes are exacted from them, nevertheless their hearts are fixed upon their Father in Heaven.'

In the Zohar and the early Kabbalah the dialogue of love is between the twoSefirot, Tiferet, the male principle in the Godhead, and Malkhut, the Shekhinah, the female principle. In the opening passage of the Zohar, in current editions, the lily among the thorns is Malkhut attacked by the demonic forces but strengthened against these evil forces by the five strong leaves surrounding the lily, the other lower Sefirot.

The sixteenth-century mystic, Moses Cordovero, interprets the book as a dialogue between the individual soul and God. Even in an earlier period, Maimonides (Teshuvah 10:3) writes in the same vein, when discussing the love of God:

'What is the proper form of the love (of God)? It is that he should love the Lord with great, overpowering, fierce love to the extent that his soul is bound to the love of God and he dwells on it constantly, as if he were love-sick for a woman and dwells on this constantly, whether he is sitting or standing, eating or drinking.'

'Even more than this should be the love of God in the heart of those who love him, dwelling on it constantly, as it is said: "with all thy heart and with all thy soul" (Deuteronomy 6:5). And it is to this that Solomon refers allegorically when he says: "For I am love-sick" (Song of Songs 2:5) and the whole of Song of Songs is a parable on this topic.'

Rabbi Dr. Louis Jacobs (1920-2006) was a Masorti rabbi, the first leader of Masorti Judaism (also known as Conservative Judaism) in the United Kingdom, and a leading writer and thinker on Judaism.

True Freedom, U Freedom
by Zvi Bellin, MHHQ

On Passover we are told to refrain from eating anything that is leavened, or puffed up. Breads, bagels, muffins, certain cereals, and for some of us, beans and rice, are all placed under this category of food that is called chametz. Most of us know that the reason that we eat Matzah, or flat bread, is to remember that when the Jews were leaving Egypt, they had to rush out and did not have time for their bread to rise, thus they ate un-leavened bread. As Rabbis tend to do, they got concerned that eating seemingly leavened products would lead to eating actual leavened bread, so they created a radical edict to spend the entire holiday not eating anything that even slightly resembles leavened bread (most strictly for Jews from Eastern European descent).

Another way to understand this practice is to think about what Passover represents and how this special diet might help the attunement of our awareness. Before the original Passover, the Jewish people and Jewish identity was stuck in a particular mode – that of slavery. We worked in harsh conditions for the Egyptians, gaining nothing from the sweat of our brow. Our relationship with G-d was also stagnated as the Deity of individual ancestors whose memory we had to connect through. Suddenly, there came time for a big change. We were going to be shifting, warp-speed, from oppressed workers to a boundless independent nation. If we stopped for a moment to think about that, we probably would lose faith, and say, “Helk no! I ain’t going no-where!” And if you take a peek into the Torah narrative, when the Jews stop to rest in the desert, they begin to complain for the life they had in Egypt.

So matzah represents the Band-Aid (or plaster) that was yanked quickly off the wound of an enslaved identity. When we eat matzah, or more importantly, when we refrain from eating chametz and chametz-related foods, we are symbolically recreating this obliteration of the usual story and identity that we carry around. All for the purpose, I remind you, of receiving a newer and more liberated sense of self. Thus, we jaggedly cut out all the foods that are “filled with hot air,” and allow our egos to deflate. Of course, quick change does not equal lasting change. For this reason, we begin to count the Omer until Shavuot, which represents a more thoughtful and comprehensive transformation from slave to free-person.

For some of us, we might not connect with the idea of cutting out bread on Pesach. I would strongly recommend trying out the traditional practice in small doses, but I think there are other ways to enhance this dramatic shift in our inner-selves.

1. You might try another way of playing with diet. Perhaps Passover is a good time for a juice fast, or cutting out sugars, or other things that make you “high and inflated.”

2. You can make a list of, “Things I would do if I was truly free,” and then see how close you are to enacting these things. Perhaps there are a few that you should still refrain from.

3. Perhaps there is part of your name that you do not identify with – your middle name, or Hebrew name. You might spend the week introducing yourself with a new name and reclaiming your relationship with it.

4. Maybe there is a new Jewish practice that you want to try out that might enhance the way you live. Meditation, daily prayer, or lighting candles on Shabbat are all tools that free us from our normal way of doing and being.

5. Play with the seder to make it more meaningful. Introduce your own poems and personal stories of oppression and liberation. According to the Haggadah, you have to at least say the following three words: PESACH, MATZAH, and MARROR. The rest just might be commentary.

So however we fill our bellies (and hearts and minds) this Pesach, I bless us that we can experience a new and deeper understanding of what it means to be free. And that we should see freedom blossom in those places where freedom seems stifled.

Many blessings,

Zvi