TORAH SPARKS
Parashat Tzav
March 19, 2022, 16 Adar II 5782
Torah: Leviticus 6:1-8:36; Triennial 8:1-8:36.
Haftarah: Jeremiah 7:21-8:3, 9:22-23
The Perpetual Flame
Ilana Kurshan
Our parashah details the various types of sacrifices offered in the Tabernacle, explaining the specific laws pertaining to each offering: which had to be burned entirely on the altar, which were consumed by the priests, which could not be eaten after a certain time. We learn the reasons for various types of sacrifices: Some were brought to atone for sin, others as an expression of gratitude, and still others to mark significant occasions in the life of the individual. But even at times
when there was no need for a sacrifice to be offered, it was forbidden
to extinguish the fire on the altar: A perpetual fire shall be kept burning on the altar, not to go out (Leviticus 6:6). What is the significance of this perpetual flame, and how can it inform our own spiritual practice?
The Jerusalem Talmud in tractate Yoma (4:6) teaches that the perpetual flame (esh tamid) had to be kept burning at all times, even when the priests were impure and could not offer sacrifices. The Talmud adds that when the Israelites were in the wilderness, they had to keep a fire burning on the altar even when traveling from one
encampment to another. In order to ensure that the flame would not be extinguished while they were traveling, they would cover the altar with
a special copper vessel created for this purpose. At times when the altar was not and could not be in use because the Israelites were traveling, and the Tabernacle itself was being transported in pieces on the shoulders of the Levites it was essential that it remain lit.
This stipulation seems surprising when we consider that the burning altar was not the only perpetual fire in the Tabernacle. As we learned in parashat Tetzaveh, Aharon and the priests also had to kindle a perpetual lamp (ner tamid) to burn in the sanctuary (Exodus 27:20). The Talmud (Menachot 86b) explains that this lamp, the ner tamid, refers to the westernmost candle on the seven-branched Menorah, which received the same amount of oil as the other six lamps, yet miraculously burned all night long. The rabbis discuss the purpose of this light, explaining that it could not have been for the sake of illumination at night during the Israelites wilderness wanderings, since they were guided by the pillar of fire. Rather, they explain, this
perpetual miracle served as testimony to all of humanity that the Divine Presence rests among the Jewish people. The candle on the Menorah burned perpetually as a sign of God s enduring presence. What, then, was the purpose of the continually-burning fire on the altar?
The Mishnah in tractate Shekalim (4:4) explains that even when no one had any offerings to bring on the altar, it was necessary to offer sacrifices continuously from the leftovers of the public funds contributed to the Temple. Perhaps the continually burning flame on the altar, then, was a sign of the devotional impulse. Even when there was no need to offer a particular sacrifice, sacrifices were nonetheless offered as a sign of our eternal readiness and commitment to give of ourselves and draw close to God. The ner tamid and the esh tamid
were thus in a sense complementary: the ner tamid represented God s continual presence, and the esh tamid represented the people s continual readiness to give.
In the absence of a Temple, how do we keep these lights aflame? There are many ways of keeping our inner altar burning, and what works for one person may not work for another. Some people may find that daily prayer even on days when we have nothing in particular to say to God ensures that this channel of communication remains
open, so that when we do need to talk to God, we have the language with which to do so. For others, a practice of regular study daf yomi (or daf shevui, run by the CY s own Rosh Yeshiva, Josh Kulp) or the weekly parashah is a way of remaining in touch with something beyond and greater than ourselves. Still others may feel that a regular commitment to helping those in need delivering food baskets, visiting an old age home, making phone calls to the homebound ensures that the impulse to give and sacrifice of ourselves remains healthy and strong within us.
We cannot always wait for the devotional impulse to well up inside us. In my own life I have gone through periods when I ve felt so depleted that any spiritual flame is dimmed within me. I have learned that if I establish routines perpetual flames in my more hopeful moments, then these practices will carry me through the difficult times. Sometimes it can feel as if I am merely going through the motions, my brain and body on autopilot. But inevitably at some point after a few days, or a few weeks, or perhaps even longer the fire will burn more brightly inside me.
Our parashah teaches us that in those moments when we don t feel we have anything to offer, we offer nonetheless. We take from the
leftover funds, the habits and disciplines we have already cultivated, because they enable us to keep the fire burning. If we are fortunate, the sacrifices that come merely from the leftover funds inside us will eventually combust into an offering of wholeness, and we will recognize that the light of the divine presence continues to burn within us.
A Fraught Appointment
Vered Hollander-Goldfarb
Text: Vayikra 8:1-5
1And the Lord spoke to Moshe, saying: 2 Take Aharon and his sons with him, and the garments, the anointing oil, a bull 3and gather all the congregation together at the door of the tent of meeting. 4So Moshe did as the Lord commanded him. And the congregation was gathered
Challenge: Can you think of a time when Moshe might have been questioned for this?
● Why is Moshe the person who performs the ceremony for Aharon and his sons? Do you think that this is comforting for Aharon or making him uneasy? Why?
Midrash: Safra, Tzav, Mechilta Demiluim 1
"Take Aharon and his sons with him": What is the intent of this?
at the door of the tent of meeting.
Because (Shemot 32:35): "And the Lord smote the people with plague
congregation, This is what the Lord commanded to be done.
Why would the consecration of Aharon and his sons as Kohanim be an event that the whole congregation should be present for?
Why (and how) is Moshe told to take Aharon rather than just instructing Aharon to come?
Commentar y: Rashi Vayikra 8:2-5
Take Aharon– take him by words and draw him in.
This is what the Lord commanded to be done The things you will see me doing in your presence, the Holy One, blessed be He, has bidden me do, and do not think I am doing them for my own glory and for my brother’s glory.
● How should Moshe take Aharon? What might he have told him?
● Rashi suggests that Moshe is aware of a problem when he is the person seen by the people as appointing his brother. How might this be perceived by the people?
because they had made the calf that Aharon had made" implies that Aharon was rejected; while "Take Aharon and his sons with him" implies that he was (re-) accepted Whence do we derive that it was in Aharon’s heart that he had been rejected? It is written at the end of
the episode (Vayikra 9:7) ("And Moshe said to Aharon) draw near to the altar." Had not Moshe just presented to him the entire order of sacrifices? Rather, to dispel this from his heart, he told him that the Lord had said to him "Take Aharon and his sons with him," thus apprising Aharon that he had been (re-) accepted
● Aharon is to head the Mishkan. Yet, Aharon is the one who created the golden calf. What questions might be raised considering this history?
● The midrash suggests that Moshe has to draw Aharon near for Aharon felt rejected. How might we help a person who failed regain confidence in his place in society?
Unwanted Offerings
Bex Stern Rosenblatt
In this week s haftarah, we read God s vehement declaration that God never wanted human sacrifice. God says, as translated by Robert Alter: For the sons of Judah have done evil in My eyes, said the LORD, they have placed their foul things in the house upon which My name was called, to defile it. And they built the high places of Topheth, which are in the Valley of Ben-Hinnom, to burn their sons and their daughters in fire, what I never charged them and what never came to My mind.
Last week, we looked at whether one can speak of God changing God s mind in a haftarah portion concerned with rejection of inappropriate sacrifice. We read Samuel s rebuke regarding sacrifice: Does the LORD take delight in burnt offerings and sacrifices as in heeding the voice of the LORD? These haftarot compliment the beginning of Leviticus, in which we receive the laws of sacrifice in all their gory detail. So, what s happened that now God seems to be rejecting sacrifice? And why is God so passionate about the rejection of human sacrifice? Why is it something that even needs to be mentioned?
The Tanakh has a complicated relationship with human sacrifice. Back in Exodus, God commands us to give to God our firstborns, both of our flock and of ourselves. We learn in Exodus 34 that the human firstborns are to be redeemed while the animal firstborns are to be sacrificed. But the first time we read about firstborns, in Exodus 28, it seems as if human and animal firstborns are intended to be consecrated by sacrifice to God. Likewise, the instructions on animal sacrifice in Leviticus famously open with the verse Whenever anyone
makes a sacrifice from you all to God. The passage goes on to clarify that it is discussing animal sacrifice. But on first read, it reads as a discussion of offering a sacrifice from the available humans.
Turning to Ezekiel 20, we find a disturbing explanation of why God seems to command us to perform human sacrifice before claiming never to have wanted it. We read, as Alter translates, And I on My part gave them statutes that were not good and laws through which they would not live. And I defiled them with their gifts when they passed every womb-breach in sacrifice, so that I might desolate them, so they might know that I am the LORD. God owns having commanded sacrifice of the firstborn here. However, the sacrifice was intended as a way to punish us. Indeed, God did not want our human sacrifices, but rather wanted us to learn from our power to bring devastation upon each other. It s a beautiful idea that human atrocity is not desired by God, that God would never want such a thing. Let s hope that humanity has learned from our past not to offer human victims up to a God who does not want them. We no longer need to punish ourselves like this.
*For more on human sacrifice in the Tanakh, I highly recommend Jon Levenson s brilliant book, The Death and Resurrection of the Beloved Son.