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From:          "Ohr Somayach" <ohr@virtual.co.il>
To:            weekly@vjlists.com
Subject:       Torah Weekly - Vayikra

* TORAH WEEKLY *
Highlights of the Weekly Torah Portion
Parshat Vayikra
For the week ending 11 Adar II 5760 / 17 & 18 March 2000

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OVERVIEW

The Book of Vayikra (Leviticus), also known as Torat Kohanim
-- the Laws of the Priests -- deals largely with the korbanot
(offerings) brought in the Mishkan (Tent of Meeting).  The
first group of offerings is called korban olah, a burnt
offering.  The animal is brought to the Mishkan's entrance. 
For cattle, the one bringing the offering sets his hands on
the animal.  Afterwards it is slaughtered and the kohen
sprinkles its blood on the altar.  The animal is skinned and
cut into pieces.  The pieces are arranged, washed and burned
on the altar.  A similar process is described involving burnt
offerings of other animals and birds.  The various meal
offerings are described.  Part of the meal offering is burned
on the altar, and the remaining part is eaten by the kohanim. 
Mixing leaven or honey into the offerings is prohibited.  The
peace offering, part of which is burnt on the altar and part
is eaten, can be either from cattle, sheep or goats.  The
Torah prohibits eating blood or chelev (certain fats in
animals).  The offerings that atone for inadvertent sins
committed by the kohen gadol, by the entire community, by the
prince and by the average citizen are detailed.  Laws of the
guilt-offering, which atones for certain verbal transgressions
and for transgressing laws of ritual purity, are listed.  The
meal offering for those who cannot afford the normal guilt
offering, the offering to atone for misusing sanctified
property, laws of the "questionable guilt" offering, and
offerings for dishonesty are detailed

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INSIGHTS

A LITTLE IS A LOT

"A satisfying aroma to Hashem."  (1:9)

The Rema in his gloss to the Shulchan Aruch says that when a
person drinks on Purim, he doesn't need to enter a binge that
will leave him with fuzzy edges for days afterwards.  Quite
the reverse: "It is the same whether one does much or whether
one does a little, provided the intention of his heart is for
our Father who is in Heaven."

There is an interesting parallel to this idea in this week's
Parsha:  When a person brings an elevation offering, he may
bring either cattle, sheep, birds or fine flour.  After each
of these categories, the Torah uses the phrase "a satisfying
aroma to Hashem."  Obviously, cattle are more expensive than
sheep, which are more expensive than fowl, which are more
expensive than flour.  If the Torah wanted to tell us that G-d
views all these offerings equally, wouldn't it have been
enough to say that fine flour is "a satisfying aroma," and we
would make the logical inference that fowl, sheep and cattle
are certainly "a satisfying aroma?"

The answer is that, had the Torah left this lesson to a
fortiori logic, we might have mistakenly assumed that fine
flour is "satisfying" and fowl all the more so; sheep are yet
more acceptable, and cattle, most of all.

Thus, the Torah writes after each category "a satisfying
aroma" to teach that whether our offerings are large or small,
G-d looks at them absolutely equally provided our intentions
are for the sake of Heaven.

"It is the same whether one does much or whether one does a
little, provided the intention of his heart is for our Father
who is in Heaven"

* Heard from Rabbi Mordechai Perlman

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Torah/Commentary:  Parashat Vayikra/Parashat Zachor/Purim --
(Leviticus 1:1-5:26)

Commentary on the Weekly Torah Reading for 11 Adar II, 5760


by Rabbi Shlomo Riskin

Chief Rabbi of Efrat;
Chancellor and Dean, Ohr Torah Stone Colleges and Graduate Programs;


EFRAT, LIBERATED JUDEA, Yom Revii (Fourth Day - "Wednesday"), 8 Adar
II, 5760:  What is the real consequence of the
sin of eating the forbidden fruit in the Garden of Eden?  What do our
Sages mean when they link the Scroll of Esther to the original sin of
the serpent, when they ask, "What is the source of Haman from the
Bible?  Is it true that from (Hamin) the tree which I commanded you
not eat therefrom, you ate?" [Babylonian Talmud, Tractate Hullin
139b].

An easy answer would be based on the Talmudic suggestion that the
forbidden fruit was the grape, and the sin of Adam and Eve was their
becoming inebriated.  The secular and sacrilegious character of the
atmosphere surrounding the Scroll of Esther is punctuated by an
unhealthy emphasis on drinking wine, partying and carousing.  This
would hardly explain the central commandment of the Purim Festival,
that "an individual is commanded to drink on Purim until he no longer
knows the difference between cursing Haman and praising Mordecai".

If becoming drunk on wine was Adam's original sin, why eternalize the
transgression each year as a rabbinic command?

A much more profound interpretation is suggested in an article written
by Ariel Eitam in "Hadassah is Esther," (a compendium of articles
about Purim memorializing Dassy Rabinovitch, a most unusually gifted,
dedicated and spiritual young woman of Efrat who tragically died of
cancer at the age of 17).

The "tree of knowledge of good and evil" is clearly identified with
death, first of all because the Almighty warns "that the day you eat
of it, you shall surely die", and secondly because in a later Biblical
passage life is identified with good, and death with evil - our charge
being "to choose life"  [Deuteronomy 30:15-20].

From this perspective, the counter-weight to the tree of knowledge of
good and evil is the tree of life (in later rabbinic literature, to be
identified with Torah.  The tree of knowledge of good and evil denies
one of the true tree of life).

Eitam magnificently explains that even before Adam and Eve's
transgression, evil did exist.  However, it was external to the human
personality.  It stood outside of humanity much as did the serpent.
Eating the forbidden fruit meant that evil would become an intrinsic
aspect of the human psyche itself, mixed in together with good to such
an extent that it often could not even be identified as the evil which
it was. 

Before the sin of eating the forbidden fruit, the human material
impulse and inclination was directed only towards purity and sanctity.
 "They were naked, the man and his wife, and they were not ashamed".
After having sinned, evil became internalized and the human
instinctive drive towards evil could lead to its rationalization and
even justification.

The boundary line between good and evil became hopelessly eroded and
confused.  When man and woman are exiled from the Garden of Eden the
Almighty must gift them with outer garments to cover over their
nakedness.

The task of Torah, "a tree of life for those who grasp it, and those
who uphold it are content", is to provide the clear line of
demarcation between good and evil, to clean away the obfuscation and
confusion, "to distinguish between the holy and the profane, that
which is permitted and that which is forbidden".

Before the sin of the fruit, the human being could be trusted, his
essence was pure, his emotions were sacred.  After the sin of the
fruit, the human being had to be commanded, his reason had to overcome
his emotions, only Biblical distinctions and vigilant adherence to
those distinctions could guarantee his proper conduct.

After his sin, "Noah awoke from (the drunken stupor brought about by
too much) wine, and he knew what his youngest son had done to him" -
either his youngest son had committed an act of homosexuality or had
castrated Noah.

After the forbidden fruit, anything like wine which removes one's
capacity to distinguish clearly between good and evil can only doom
the human personality to disaster.

After the sin, it is forbidden for one who drunk wine to enter the
Temple precincts, and "You shall be holy" rules the day!

A careful reading of the first chapters of the Scroll of Esther will
reveal a total confusion between good and evil.  Evil acts are
described as being good - because of the influence of excessive wine
which removes the capacity to discern and distinguish.

"The heart of the King is good (Katov) with wine" - and he banishes
Vashti [Esther 1:10, 12, 19-21].  The King rounds up "virgins of
goodly appearance" - and thereby justifies mass prostitution and
haremization [Esther 2:2-4].

"If it be good with the King, it shall be written to destroy them" -
and the Jews will be decimated [Esther 3:9-11].

"and the matter was good (Vayitav) before Haman and he made a tree" -
upon which to hang the virtuous Mordecai [Esther 5:14].

It is only after Esther emerges as a heroic protector of her people
that she succeeds in separating between good and evil - and in
isolating evil for what it really is:

"....If it is good for the King, let him grant me my soul for my
request and my nation for my petition.. the foe and the enemy is this
evil Haman" [Esther 7:3-7].

Haman is evil [Esther 8:3], the Jewish People are facing the evil he
has wrought [Esther 8:7,8], and the victory day of Purim is one of
"joy, feasting and a good day - yom tov"  [Esther 9:19].

It is Mordecai who "seeks good for his nation and speaks peace to all
his progeny"  [Esther 9:25].  Esther has taught Torah, has insisted on
the proper distinctions between good and evil, has enabled reason to
triumph over base materialism and petty jealousies.

Allow me a final word to explain the nature of our Purim celebration
according to this thesis.  On the evening of Purim we read the Scroll
of Esther - and it is forbidden to drink to excess.  We also read the
Scroll again in the morning - and the prohibition against inebriation
is still in place.

Torah and human reason remain paramount.  We follow each reading with
the special Shoshanat Yaakov prayer, emphasizing the necessity to
"curse Haman, praise Mordecai, curse Zeresh (Mrs. Haman), praise
Esther, curse idolaters, praise Israelites, and even remember Harvona
(Esther 7:9, one of the chamberlains of Persian King Ahasuerus) for
good.

Then we perform the commandments of gifts to our friends, charity to
the poor - commands linking us to Torah and the Tree of Life!  It is
at this point that we feel that we may have transcended the world of
sin and forbidden fruit, that we may be worthy of returning to the
pure and pristine state of humanity before the fall, when human nature
was only directed to the good, the godly, the glorious.

Perhaps this is why we can conclude Purim by drinking until we no
longer know the difference between cursing Haman and praising
Mordecai, "because we no longer have to know how to distinguish,
because we have returned to our original purity and have gained the
merit of basking in the eternal tree of life.

How do we know if we've truly gotten there?  If, when we drink to
surfeit, what comes out of our mouths is not curses or smut, but
rather praises to G-d and novel Torah interpretations.


Shabbat Shalom and Purim Sameah from Efrat,


Rabbi Shlomo Riskin

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From:          "Yeshivat Har Etzion's Israel Koschitzky Virtual Beit Midrash" 
Subject:       INTPARSHA -24: Parashat Vayikra
To:            yhe-intparsha@vbm-torah.org

Yeshivat Har Etzion
The Israel Koschitzky Virtual Beit Midrash
********************************************

Introduction to Parashat HaShavua

Parashat VaYikra - The Sacrificial Service

By Rabbi Michael Hattin


Introduction

This week we begin to read Parashat VaYikra.  In early Rabbinic
literature, the book is known as Sefer Cohanim or the 'Book of
the Priests,' and many of its words are in fact directed towards the
Cohanim.  The Ramban (13th century, Spain) expands on this theme in
his introduction to the Book:

"This Book tells of the laws pertaining to the Cohanim and
Leviim (Levites) and it explains the precepts of the
sacrificial service and the rules of maintaining the
sanctity of the Mishkan.  The previous Book (of Shemot)
described the first exile and the redemption from it and
was completed with a description of the Tent of Meeting and
of how God's presence filled that place.  This Book
continues this theme by describing the sacrifices and the
laws relating to the protection of the Sanctuary so that
those sacrifices can achieve atonement for the people, and
their transgressions will not bring about the disappearance
of the Shekhina (God's presence manifest)... Most of the
Book is devoted to the sacrificial cult and pertains to the
offerings themselves, those that are fit to offer them, as
well as where those offerings may take place.  A few other
mitzvot relating to this subject are also enumerated... the
laws of 'Tum'a' ('impurity') and 'Tahara' ('purity') are
also conveyed because of their relevance to the
Sanctuary..." (Ramban, Introduction to Sefer VaYikra).

The twin topics of Sacrifice and Tum'a/Tahara, both of which
revolve around the Mishkan, are not only the major subjects of
Sefer VaYikra, but also among the most conceptually difficult
subjects in the Torah.  Their importance, though, cannot be
underestimated, for although we have ceased to practice them in
the aftermath of the Temple's destruction almost two thousand
years ago, these two subjects nonetheless constitute a
significant part of codified Jewish law and lore.  A full two of the
six orders of the Mishna are devoted to their laws, and it is
therefore a grave mistake to dismiss them without so much as a second
thought as necessarily archaic, antiquated, primitive and irrelevant.
In the coming weeks we shall view some of these laws through the prism
of Rabbinic tradition and commentary, and attempt to understand their
profound significance and ongoing pertinence. 


Insights for Eternity

As we begin our investigation, let us bear in mind the discerning
words of the Abarbanel (15th century, Spain) in his closing remarks to
Parashat Teruma (Shemot 27:10):

"Do not think for a moment that the descriptions of the
Mishkan, its vessels and its construction, the sacrifices,
the offerings of the Princes at its dedication, the
priestly garments as well as the rest of the ordinances
that were practiced in antiquity, have no relevance for us
today in our present state of exile.  Indeed, one may be
tempted to ask concerning the above, as well as regarding
the agricultural laws that pertain to the land of Israel,
or with respect to the laws of Tum'a and Tahara, all of
which are no longer practiced: what purpose do we achieve
by studying and knowing them today?!

"The answer is that one must realize that any matter that
is related in the Torah merits its inclusion because it
constitutes supernal wisdom and divine knowledge.  Anyone
who possesses spiritual and religious sensitivity studies
these matters in order to achieve perfection of his soul. 
The verse therefore states: 'You shall observe the matters
of this covenant and perform them, in order that you might
be successful ('yaskilu') in all of your endeavors'
(Devarim 29:8).  Our Sages remark: "'Observance' refers to
study, and 'Performance' refers to practice."  Those
singular individuals who strive to achieve perfect wisdom
act in accordance with prior study and learning, and for
them there is no appreciable difference between a matter
that is applicable and one that is not.

"Therefore what we can understand about the Mishkan and its
vessels today is as meaningful now as when it was fully
practiced.  In this sense, the sacrificial service has not
been suspended (although in practice it no longer exists),
for study of those matters need not cease. Through
comprehending their eternal message, a person can yet
achieve subservience and closeness to God, as the verse
states: 'A contrite and broken spirit is true sacrifice to
God' (Tehillim/Psalms 51:19)."

For the Abarbanel, as well as for countless other commentaries
that have faithfully kept alive the memory of traditions and
truths that would have otherwise been lost, the primary aim of
the Torah remains the perfection of the human personality.
Although as committed Jews we understand that the possibility of this
perfection is fundamentally a function of deeds, namely the mitzvot of
the Torah, Abarbanel indicates to us that the truest and most
meaningful deeds are those that are predicated on knowledge and
understanding.  That being the case, it is still possible to 'offer
sacrifices' on the non-existent altar or participate in the
now-defunct 'Temple ritual' by studying the relevant (but no longer
performed) laws, not only in the sense of their practical application
but also in light of their deeper ethical, spiritual and religious
truths.  This aspect of the Divine potency of these laws is thus
forever germane and within our reach.


The View of the Rambam

No proper discussion of the sacrificial service can begin without
mention of the Rambam's (12th century, Egypt) explanation of its
origins.  Rambam, in his broader attempt to understand the mitzvot of
the Torah according to rational criteria, provides a general overview
of the sacrifices that is striking in its originality, remarkable in
its candor, and seemingly attuned to modern sensibilities.  It is an
explication that has not ceased to stir up controversy and contention,
as other commentaries both early and modern have either embraced it as
a genuine expression of religious thought or else have rejected it as
a dangerous and futile idea that undermines the very service that it
seeks to defend.

The Rambam's thoughts on the matter are contained in his 'Guide
to the Perplexed' and we shall quote from this work at length. 
Those who are familiar with the gist of his approach are
frequently unfamiliar with its larger context, but this material is
critical to appreciating the full scope of his idea.  It is important
to bear in mind that the Guide is a subject for discussion in itself.
Let it suffice to relate that its circulation aroused great strife and
dispute in the Jewish world of the Rambam's day and in the centuries
afterwards, for the work raised the larger question of the relevance
and role of philosophical reason in the explication of the Torah.

The Rambam's views on sacrifice are spelled out in Chapter 32 of the
Third Section of the Guide: "...it is not possible to progress from
one extreme to the other in a single moment.  Therefore, it is not
reasonable for people to abandon at once everything to which they have
become accustomed.  God sent Moshe Rabbenu to make us into 'a kingdom
of priests and a holy nation' (Shemot 19:6) and this was to be
achieved by coming to know and to understand Him...and by being
separated and dedicated to His service.  At that time, the universal
practice was to serve the gods through the sacrifice of animals in the
temples, by prostration and the offering of incense to graven images,
and the Jewish people were much accustomed to these conventions in
Egypt.  Therefore, God in His wisdom and obvious guidance of His
creatures, did not decree that we abandon all those forms of worship
and completely relinquish them, for this would have been impossible to
accept, according to our human nature that finds comfort in habit."


The Difficulty of Changing Human Nature

The underlying foundation of Rambam's thesis is the recognition
that human nature cannot be reshaped and redirected in a single
stroke of time.  If a person has become accustomed to living
their life according to certain beliefs and predicated on certain
habits and practices, then these become ingrained.  They cannot
realistically be summarily shed, no matter how great the desire to do
so or how lofty the impetus to change.  To make the matter more
comprehensible to his readers, Rambam offers the analogy of a
latter-day prophet appearing with the following demand: "God decrees
that you serve Him not through prayer, fasting or calling out to Him
in time of need, but rather through pure thought alone."  In other
words, although it could be argued that the purest form of Divine
worship is silent, wordless meditation on His essence, such a service
would be unthinkable for most of us who have been raised on the
ceremony and liturgy of a conventional prayer service.

Human nature being what it is, God therefore sought not to
completely uproot everything to which the Jewish people had
become accustomed, but rather to subtly and incrementally
redirect it to proper ends.  Therefore, "God allowed those forms of
sacrificial worship to persist, but transferred them from being
directed towards images and imaginary gods, to His name.  He therefore
commanded us to build a sanctuary to His name, to erect an altar to
His name, and to offer sacrifice, incense and homage only to Him... in
this way, the practice of idolatry was blotted out from among the
Jews, and the great and true fundamental idea that God exists and that
He is one was able to take shape in our minds.  Our natures were not
shocked in the process and we felt no strangeness or reluctance in
having to relinquish modes of worship with which we were familiar, in
order to adopt new ways."

Rambam detects faint echoes of his thesis in the language of the Torah
itself:  'let them make for ME a sanctuary' (Shemot 25:8), 'an altar
of earth shall you set up for ME' (Shemot 20:21), 'if a person desires
to offer sacrifice TO GOD' (VaYikra 1:2).  In all three cases,
describing the building of a Mishkan, the construction of an altar and
the bringing of sacrifice respectively, the directing of the action to
God is stressed.  This is not only a call to sincere worship, but also
a subtle implication that the novelty of the sacrificial service
consists in its being deflected away from idolatry and reflected
towards the service of the one God.


The Precedent of the Exodus

In order to further bolster his claim that human nature is a
significant factor in God's orchestration of events and in His
promulgation of laws, Rambam reminds us of the events surrounding the
Exodus.  It will be recalled that when God took the people of Israel
out of Egypt, the Torah relates that He did not direct them by "the
way of the Pelishtim, though it was closer.  For God said: '...lest
the people be engaged in battle, and want to return to Egypt.
Therefore, God caused the people to turn and go by the route of the
wilderness of Yam Suf..." (Shemot 13:17-18).  The most direct route
from Egypt to the Promised Land is along the Mediterranean coast, by
way of an important and well-trod road later called by the Romans Via
Maris or the Way of the Sea.  It would have been most reasonable for
God to direct the newly freed Hebrews along that way, since the
immediate goal was to enter the land of Canaan.  Instead, surmising
that the Hebrews would encounter the hostile coastal inhabitants
enroute and be so frightened by the prospect of combat that they would
abruptly do an about face and return to Egypt, God took them by the
much more circuitous and less traveled route of the wilderness. 

"Just as it is not within the power of human nature for a person
raised in oppression and servitude, in hard labor of bricks and
mortar, to hastily wash the clay off of his hands and then immediately
engage the 'descendants of the giants' (Devarim 9:1- 2) in battle, so
is it impossible for one who was raised and nurtured on a multiplicity
of modes of sacrificial worship to abandon them all in a single
stroke."  In other words, Rambam explains that the Primary Purpose of
entering the land of Canaan seemed to be subverted by God when He
instead took the people by way of a less direct route.  In the end,
though, this 'detour' turned out to be the most direct route
imaginable, for had we instead gone by the alternative 'shortcut' of
the 'way of the Pelishtim' we would have never succeeded in leaving
Egypt at all.  So too, the ultimate goal of coming to serve God is
sometimes best served by methods that are not necessarily the most
direct, particularly when issues of human nature are involved.


The Fundamental Question

Finally, Rambam raises a critical question.  If God's ultimate
aim is for us to achieve the Primary Purpose of serving only Him
directly and without deviation, then why not command us to do so; let
Him then inspire us with the strength to overcome our recalcitrant
human natures that are reluctant to surrender more familiar idolatrous
devotions and that are painfully slow to adapt?  The Rambam broadens
the question: why didn't God take Bnei Yisrael by way of the sea and
then give them the fortitude to fight, if the goal was to enter the
Land?  Taken to its logical conclusion, Rambam queries, if God wants
us to fulfill the words of the Torah and observe its precepts, then
why not give us the spiritual strength to do so and thus render
'promises of reward or warnings of punishment' unnecessary?   The
answer in all three cases is the same: "although it is the case that
God intervenes in the world to work miracles that change the state of
nature, with respect to HUMAN NATURE God will never step in to alter
it... not because it is beyond His capabilities, but because it is not
His will now or ever."  Since freedom of choice is at the core of the
human personality, God never intervenes in a manner that would
jeopardize that autonomy. To do so would be an abrogation of the basic
tenets that govern the relationship between God and humanity.

Thus, Rambam offers an interpretation that is very much a
function of understanding the predicament of being human.  Often
wanting to change, being expected to change, we are at the same time
unable to do so except in small steps.  At the same time, however,
those small steps in the end make all the difference, for they can
draw us away from even idolatry in order to be devoted to the service
of God.  Next week, we shall explore Rambam's view further,
considering its difficulties and limitations, and investigating some
heroic attempts to overcome them.

Shabbat Shalom


YESHIVAT HAR ETZION
ISRAEL KOSCHITZKY VIRTUAL BEIT MIDRASH
ALON SHEVUT, GUSH ETZION 90433

Copyright (c) 1999 Yeshivat Har Etzion
All Rights Reserved

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