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From: "Yeshivat Har Etzion's
Israel Koschitzky Virtual Beit Midrash"
To: yhe-intparsha@vbm-torah.org
Subject: INTPARSHA -31: Parashat Emor
Yeshivat
Har Etzion
The Israel Koschitzky Virtual Beit
Midrash
********************************************
Introduction
to Parashat HaShavua
Parashat
Emor
The
Holiday Cycle
By
Rabbi Michael Hattin
Introduction
Following a pattern already familiar to us,
Parashat
Emor begins with a series of injunctions directed towards
the Cohanim. The Torah goes on to describe a number of laws
pertaining to sacrifice, and then directs its attention to
the Holiday Cycle. The holidays are delineated one at a
time, but in keeping with the primary thrust of
Sefer
Vayikra, the particular sacrifices associated with each of
them are respectively spelled out. In this week's lesson,
we shall explore this holiday cycle in greater
depth,
focussing especially on two of the three so-called 'Pilgrim
Festivals' of Pesach, Shavuot, and Succot, as they are
described in this week's Parasha. Before doing so, however,
we must first turn our attention to the introductory verses
of the passage, for they shed light on an important but
often misunderstood ritual feature of these days.
Curiously, the section that discusses the
holidays
begins with mention of the Shabbat: "God spoke to Moshe
saying: Speak to Bnei Yisrael and say to
them: the
designated times of God, that you shall observe as sacred
convocations, are the following. For six days you shall do
work, but on the seventh day it shall be a Sabbath
of
Sabbaths, a holy convocation. You may not do all manner of
work ('kol melakha') on it, for it is a Sabbath unto God in
all of your habitations" (Vayikra 23:1-3). By commencing
the section of the holidays with a reference to the Shabbat,
the Torah emphasizes the primacy of the latter, for the
framework of observances associated with all of the other
holidays draws its inspiration directly from the model of
the Shabbat. Nevertheless, although in terms of formal
external practices, the holidays are
practically
indistinguishable from the Shabbat, there is one critical
distinction.
Shabbat and the Other Holidays
Reading the text carefully, we notice that with respect
to the Shabbat, the Torah employs a phrase that is not used
concerning any other holiday - "you may not
do 'kol
melakha,' any manner of work." In almost all of the other
holiday references in our Parasha, the Torah prohibits "kol
melekhet avoda" but not "kol melakha." Thus,
concerning
Pesach, "on the first day shall be a holy convocation for
you, 'kol melekhet avoda' you shall not do" (23:7). With
respect to Shavuot, "you shall declare on that very day a
holy convocation, 'kol melekhet avoda' you shall not do..."
(23:21). Concerning Rosh HaShana, "you shall not do 'kol
melekhet avoda...'" (23:25). Finally, concerning the first
day of Succot as well as the special eighth day convocation
associated with that festival, the Torah again prohibits
'kol melekhet avoda' (23:35-36). While a precise definition
of "melekhet avoda" is not provided in the text, clearly it
is some form of labor involving effort, for as we have seen
in other contexts, 'avoda' is often employed by the Torah to
signify 'toil or exertion.' Thus, although on Shabbat the
Torah rules out all manner of melakha, on the holidays only
particular types of melakha, namely those involving "effort"
are curtailed. Or, to phrase the matter differently, it
follows that on the holidays, certain forms of 'melakha'
must therefore be permitted. But which ones?
Although our section is silent on
the matter, an
earlier text from the Book of Shemot provides the answer.
As the last of the Plagues is about to strike, God bids
Moshe to tell the people to observe the Passover. This
first and most commemorative of the holidays is to
be
celebrated after the liberation from Egypt
"for all
generations as an everlasting decree" (Shemot 12:14). "On
the first and seventh days shall be holy convocations, all
manner of work ('kol melakha') is not to be done on them,
ONLY EXCEPTING that which is necessary so that people may
eat, which may be done by you" (Shemot 12:16). Thus, the
Torah prohibits the execution of work on the holiday, save
that which is needed for the preparation of food.
Returning to our text, the subtlety of the passage is
now clear. On Shabbat, no melakha may be done, including
that necessary for food preparation. Provisions for Shabbat
must therefore be carried out or commenced ahead of time,
for no exemption at all is indicated by the text. On the
other holidays, however, although all other forms of melakha
are forbidden, food preparation may be done, for as the
Ramban (13th century, Spain) points out "work executed for
the sake of food preparation is beneficial, rather than
onerous" (see lengthy commentary to
Vayikra 23:7).
"Melekhet avoda" or "toilsome labor" is therefore prohibited
on the holidays, but not "okhel
nefesh," food for
consumption.
The Ramban's explanation also
addresses the only
holiday in our passage that avoids use of this critical
phrase. "God spoke to Moshe saying: 'on the tenth day of the
seventh month a Day of Atonement, a holy convocation, shall
be observed by you on which you shall afflict your souls by
fasting.all manner of work, "kol melakha" shall not be done
on this very day..." (Vayikra 23:26-28). Why does the Torah
say that on Yom Kippur "kol melakha" shall be curtailed,
employing language associated with the Shabbat rather than
employing the phraseology associated with the
other
holidays? The reason should now be obvious, for since this
day is one of fasting on which no food is to be consumed,
the warrant of food preparation does
not exist.
Consequently, "kol melakha" is not to be done, after the
manner of Shabbat.
Pesach and Succot - Festivals of the
Seasons and
Commemorations of Historical Events
Now turning our attention to the holidays, we
notice
that the Torah commences the discussion with the Passover.
This is eminently suitable, for the Pesach is the very first
national festival of our people.
"These are the set times of God, holy convocations that
you shall declare in their proper
times. On the
fourteenth day of the first month at eventide shall be
Passover unto God. On the fifteenth day of this month
a holiday of Matzot shall be observed unto God, and for
seven days you shall consume matzot..." (23:4-6).
Thus, the justifications for the observance
of the
holiday are the deeply ingrained
historical events
surrounding the Exodus. The Passover sacrifice
that
inaugurated the day of Redemption and the unleavened bread
that so eloquently captured the spirit of servitude and then
sudden liberation, are here presented as the
central
elements of the holiday. No mention is made of the season
of the Exodus, although on the morrow of that tumultuous
night, Moshe had reminded the people that "today you go
forth, in the month of the Spring" (Shemot 13:5).
In a similar vein, the Torah mandates the celebration
of a seven day festival in the 'seventh month':
"...on the fifteenth day of the seventh
month, the
Festival of Succot (literally 'booths')
is to be
celebrated for seven days unto God... when you gather
in the produce of the land... for seven days you shall
dwell in booths.in order that your descendents
will
know that in succot I caused the people of Israel
to
dwell, when I took them out of the land of Egypt. I am
God your Lord" (Vayikra 23:33-44).
Here again, the Torah indicates a binary foundation for
the holiday, for it is associated with the agricultural
ingathering, as well as with the events of the journey forth
from the land of Egypt to traverse the wilderness.
Considering the matter from a more general perspective,
we notice that Pesach and Succot are celebrated at opposite
poles of the year. Pesach ushers in the season of Spring,
and the earnest onset of the growing season. Succot falls
exactly six months later and marks the commencement of Fall,
as the farmer gathers in the last of his crops from the
field, leaves his temporary booth, and begins to
look
forward to the winter rains. The Torah recognizes
and
emphasizes these critical agricultural aspects of these
festivals, for elsewhere in Scripture they are explicitly
connected to their seasonal anchors. Thus with respect to
Pesach, the text states:
"observe the Festival of Matzot. For seven
days you
shall eat matzot as I have commanded you, in the time
of the month of Spring, for at that time
you left
Egypt..." (Shemot 22:15).
Concerning Succot, the Torah designates it
as "the
Festival of the Ingathering at the end of the year, when you
gather in your produce from the field" (Shemot 22:16).
At the same time, the Torah clearly points out
that
these holidays have a critical historical character as well,
for Pesach celebrates the Redemption from Egypt, while
Succot recalls the journey through the wilderness in the
aftermath of that Exodus. What is the significance of this
duality, which is underscored in almost every mention of
these holidays in the Torah? Why do they
commemorate
agricultural, as well as historical episodes?
The Solar Year and the Phases of the Moon
Examining the issue from a further angle, we
notice
that the dual aspect of these festivals is suggested by the
twofold system that is at work for designating
their
calendar date. On the one hand, these holidays are tethered
to the Spring and to the Fall, two agricultural seasons that
are a function of the earth's revolution around the sun. As
the earth proceeds around the sun, with its axis of rotation
lying at a slight tilt to the plane of its orbit, the length
of the day increases to usher in the season of Spring and
decreases to announce the onset of Fall. In other words,
the seasons are completely dependent upon the sun.
At the same time, the actual dates of the holidays of
Pesach and Succot are spelled out in the Torah as
"the
fifteenth day of the first month" and the "fifteenth day of
the seventh month" respectively. These time designations
are functions not of the sun but of the moon, for the Torah
introduces a lunar calendar on the eve of the departure from
Egypt: "This month ('HaChodesh') shall be for you the first
of months..." (Shemot 12:2). As R. Avraham Ibn Ezra (12th
century, Spain) points out, the Torah's consistent use of
the term 'chodesh' to describe 'month' points to a lunar
count. The word, he explains, comes from the root 'ChaDaSh'
signifying 'new,' and therefore signifies 'renewal,' "for
renewal pertains to the light of the moon, for although it
has no light of its own, its appearance waxes and wanes due
to the light of the sun..." (beginning of commentary to
Shemot 12:2).
The Directive to Synchronize
What is singularly striking, however, is that the Torah
insists that both of these time systems be employed as the
foundation of its calendar. The holidays must fall during
their appropriate agricultural seasons, but are formally
reckoned according to the phases of the moon. This duality
has the potential to create difficulties, for the solar year
(the period of a single complete rotation of the earth
around the sun) is approximately 365 ¼ days long, while a
period of twelve lunar months is approximately 354 days
long. This is because each lunar month describes a complete
revolution of the moon around the earth, and constitutes
about 29 ½ days. It should be emphasized that both systems
are actually completely independent, for the periods of the
moon have absolutely nothing to do with the rotation of the
earth around the sun. The fact that we tend to speak of
'twelve months' in a year is arbitrary, and is based upon an
early recognition that over the course of a solar year
approximately twelve lunar renewals would be observed. For
the sake of comparison, note that the English word 'month'
is itself derived also from the Old English word for 'moon.'
The method of synchronizing the seasons of the sun with
the months of the moon is the basis of the Jewish calendar,
and explains the periodic introduction of a 'thirteenth
month' to harmonize the discrepancy. We may contrast this
system with the completely solar calendar employed in all
countries historically associated with Christianity (the
seasons always begin on the same calendar day of the year),
or the exclusively lunar calendar used in all
Moslem
countries (so that Moslem festivals, over the course of
time, migrate across the seasons of the year).
To sum up thus far, we have noticed that
the Torah
unerringly refers to Pesach as associated with the time of
Spring, and Succot as the Festival of the Fall.
These
designations are seasonally dependent and relate to the sun.
At the same time, the Torah is always careful to recall the
historical basis of these festivals, and to set their formal
dates as a function of lunar months that, strictly speaking,
are completely independent of the agricultural seasons.
What is the significance of this duality?
The Duality of the Torah Festivals - 1) Nature
Early on in human development, mankind recognized that
survival was a function of the seasons. The gracious rays
of the sun warmed the earth, the welcome rains revived it,
and it in turn brought forth its bounty. When cultivated
conscientiously, its black soil could miraculously transform
seeds into sustenance. But there were other awesome and
capricious forces at work, for an unexpected period of
intense heat could burn up its beneficence,
and an
unforeseen storm could swiftly sweep it away. Thus, early
man, seeking to relieve himself of the existential tension
of his predicament, thought it prudent to seek the favor of
these natural forces, whom he primitively identified with
different divinities. The forces of nature were worshipped
as gods, and these were perceived as at once terrifying in
their power, but also munificent in their
life-giving
support.
The Torah forcefully parted ways with this conception
of the world, by proclaiming in absolute terms that a Single
God had fashioned the cosmos and continued to sustain it.
The Forces of Nature were not erratic and mercurial gods at
odds with each other, but rather the manifestations of an
underlying structure to a universe that had been called into
being by a Willful Creator. The seasons, paradigms for
these manifold powers of nature, were themselves functions
of the sun, the most majestic and mighty force of them all.
But even this sun and all of its host were, the
Torah
exclaimed, not gods in their own right, but only
the
effortless work of an Absolute Being, and consequently
subject to His rule. How difficult it is for us to imagine
the spiritual state of humanity three or four thousand years
ago! We take for granted that we live in a world that has
already progressed to a theological conception of
the
universe not that far from the opening verses of Bereishit.
At that time and for many, many centuries
afterwards,
however, the Torah's towering message must have seemed
astonishing and surreal!
Thus, the holidays of Spring and Fall, celebrated
by
humanity from time immemorial as pivotal events in the life
of the gods, were henceforth to be observed as expressions
of the Single Creator's omnipotence. Pesach and Succot
proclaimed God's complete mastery over
Nature, His
indispensable involvement in the processes of Cultivation
and Harvest, Growth and Decay, Life and Death. The Torah-
enjoined festivals broadcast for the first time
the
revolutionary message that the contradictory forces of the
cosmos, though they might seem awesome and overwhelming,
were themselves entirely under the dominion of a singular
non-corporeal God who transcended the inherent limitations
of matter that held the lesser 'divinities' in sway.
The Duality of the Torah Festivals - 2) History
But that was not enough, for a God of Nature, mighty as
He might be, was not necessarily a God involved, a God
immediate, a God who cared. The transcendence
of an
Absolute Deity could easily be mistaken for remoteness, His
otherworldliness for abstraction. The forces of creation
might be breathtaking in their grandeur and awesome in their
intensity, but they were also, by the very same token,
impersonal in their expanse. The seasons progress at their
own pace, seemingly indifferent to any human cares and
apparently unheeding of our concerns.
"I am God your Lord who brought you out of the land of
Egypt!" thundered the Deity at Sinai, articulating for the
first in the history of the world, the notion of a God that
was aware, attentive, near at hand, and involved. This was
a God who was aware of oppression, attentive to the cries of
those in servitude, near to their pain, and intimately
involved in their liberation. The Exodus was not in the
main about a God who could overpower, but about a God who
could redeem. Human destiny was no longer to be regarded as
being subject to the impersonal fates, but was
rather
proclaimed to be a function of human conduct and human
choices. The gods could be bought off with incantations and
bribed with offerings, but the God of Israel could only be
supplicated with deeds of kindness and acts of compassion.
The gods of Egypt, among whom the Pharaoh occupied
an
honored position, could easily countenance the injustice of
a groaning humanity enslaved in cruel bondage, for they were
not particularly concerned with human destiny,
and,
themselves subject to an irresistible Fate, were anywise
powerless to affect it.
With the same suddenness as the Act of Creation, this
new understanding burst forth on the world, carried forward
by a freed people of Israel still too spiritually inchoate
to fully internalize its significance. In order to impress
it upon them, they were given new observances to commemorate
the great historical events that
surrounded their
deliverance, to recall God's intimate involvement
and
ongoing concern that had brought them forth from Egypt and
sustained them during the course of their wanderings. There
was thus an intrinsic aspect to these events that did not
relate to the seasons of the year at all, to the events of
nature or the cycles of agriculture, but only to the unique
relationship between God and man. This was
a facet
particular to humanity and did not seek to address the
larger framework of a cosmos that was by
definition
transcendent and impersonal. It was an aspect that was best
expressed by coupling it to the phases of the moon, for the
lunar calendar (in contrast to its solar counterpart) was
about man's history and life.
The Sun and the Moon - Two Types of Marking Time
If the seasons of the sun are about God's mastery
of
nature, the phases of the moon are about man's imprint on
time. The solar seasons have their own rhythms that unfold
independent of our existence, but the lunar calendar is
artificial and contrived. It is an expression of how WE
mark time as human beings and gauge the progress of our
lives, for according to astronomical reality there is no
such thing as a 'lunar year.' We create the artifice of a
lunar year and we assign it validity, for its conventions
are products of our ingenuity. By
remembering the
historical and momentous events of our national
birth
according to a lunar reckoning, we celebrate man's role in
the world, and especially his privileged status as the most
precious subject of God's concern. The solar calendar is
about God's involvement with the world, but the
lunar
calendar is about God's involvement with man. By dating the
holidays of the Exodus and the Wilderness according to the
lunar cycle, the Torah is insisting that we remain cognizant
of God's other aspect of connectedness, His immediacy and
intimacy, His ongoing involvement in the ebb and tide of our
unfolding human lives. There is a God of Creation, but
there is also a God of History; the revolution that the
Torah unleashed was the idea that these two fundamental
aspects are in truth a perfect Oneness that is inseparable.
Thus, Pesach is the Holiday of the Spring, but also the
season of our redemption from Egypt. Succot celebrates
harvest, but also recalls our traversing of the hostile
wilderness. The seasons of the sun and the phases of the
moon must be synchronized, for they speak of a unified idea
that alone has the power to transform us. Most of us are
probably comfortable with the notion of a Creator, even
perhaps an all-powerful one, but we would prefer to keep Him
at arm's length. God may have created the cosmos, but (we
surmise with relief) He has fortunately receded into the
shadows of time, transcendent, absolute but irrelevant.
Conceptually, not much separates the notion of no God from
the notion of an unaware, uncaring and removed God, for the
impact on our lives is practically negligible in either
case. Only the idea of an omnipotent AND concerned God, who
is capable but who also demands, who is strong enough to
intervene but who also takes account, who nurtures but at
the same time obligates us to grow, can make a difference to
our lives. This then is the true significance of Pesach and
Succot, the festivals not only of the fruits of the soil but
of the fruits of the soul as well.
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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From: "Ohr Somayach" <ohr@virtual.co.il>
To: weekly@vjlists.com
Subject: Torah Weekly - Emor
* TORAH WEEKLY *
Highlights of the Weekly Torah Portion
Parshat Emor
For the week ending 8 Iyar 5760 / 12 & 13 May 2000
================================
OVERVIEW
The kohanim are commanded to avoid contact with corpses in order to
maintain a high standard of ritual purity. They may attend the
funeral of only their seven closest relatives: Father, mother, wife,
son, daughter, brother, and unmarried sister. The kohen gadol (High
Priest) may not attend the funeral even of his closest relatives.
Certain marital restrictions are placed on the kohanim. The nation is
required to honor the kohanim. The physical irregularities that
invalidate a kohen from serving in the Temple are listed. Terumah, a
produce tithe given to the kohanim, may be eaten only by kohanim and
their household. An animal may be sacrificed in the Temple after it
is eight days old and is free from any physical defects. The nation
is commanded to sanctify the Name of Hashem by insuring that their
behavior is always exemplary, and by being prepared to surrender their
lives rather than murder, engage in licentious relations or worship
idols. The special characteristics of the holidays are described, and
the nation is reminded not to do certain types of creative work during
these holidays. New grain may not be eaten until the omer of barley
is offered in the Temple. The Parsha explains the laws of preparing
the oil for the menorah and baking the lechem hapanim in the Temple.
A man blasphemes Hashem and is executed as prescribed in the Torah.
================================
INSIGHTS
THE ETERNAL FLAME
"Command the Children of Israel ... to kindle a continual lamp."
(24:2)
Go into any Synagogue when it's dark and you will see a small lamp
shining above the Holy Ark. It's called the ner tamid -- the eternal
flame.
That lamp is a memorial of the ner ma'aravi (western lamp) of the
menorah which the kohanim lit in the Beit Hamikdash. The ner ma'aravi
burned miraculously. It never went out. Every evening, when the
kohen came to kindle the flames he would find the ner ma'aravi still
alight from the previous evening. He would remove the still-burning
wick and oil, clean out its receptacle and then put back the burning
wick and the oil. Then he would kindle all the other lamps with the
western lamp.
However, when the Romans destroyed the Beit Hamikdash it seemed that
the little solitary flame had been put out forever.
In Rome, there stands a triumphal arch built by the Emperor Titus.
One of its bas-reliefs depicts the menorah being carried through the
streets of Rome as part of the booty pillaged from the Beit Hamikdash.
All its lamps are dark. It looks like some expensive antique, soon
to languish under the dust of ages in some Vatican vault.
But did Titus really extinguish that eternal flame?
The Beit Hamikdash is a macrocosm of the human body. If you look at a
plan of the sanctuary in the Beit Hamikdash, you will notice that the
placement of the various vessels -- the altar, the table, the menorah
-- corresponds to the location of the vital organs in the human body.
Each of the Temple's vessels represents a human organ.
The menorah corresponds to the heart.
Why is it that so many young people today are choosing to return to
the beliefs and practices that their parents had forgotten, and their
grandparents despaired of seeing continued? It is as though some
mystical force is transmitted in the spiritual genes of every Jew. A
light burning on the menorah of the Jewish heart across the millennia.
A light which can never be extinguished, which burns miraculously,
even without replenishment of the oil or wicks of mitzvah observance.
So, in a mystical sense, the light Titus tried to put out continues to
burn in the menorah of the Jewish heart. But there's more.
It would come as a great disappointment to Titus, but the menorah that
is collecting dust in the Vatican is not the original menorah. It is
a copy. The original menorah was hidden away (together with the other
vessels) in the caves and tunnels under the Temple Mount.
If while the Temple was standing the western lamp of the menorah
burned miraculously without human assistance, so why shouldn't it go
on burning even after it was buried?
That western lamp continues to "burn" under the Temple Mount
throughout the long dark night of exile. It continues to "burn" to
this day. And it will continue to "burn" until Mashiach comes. Then,
the light of the menorah of the Jewish heart will be revealed as
identical to the light of the menorah in the Holy Beit Hamikdash.
Sources:
* Sfat Emet, Rabbi Akiva Tatz
================================
HAFTARA: Yechezkel 44:15-31
This prophecy relates to the future Sanctuary and narrates many of the
special laws of the priests and the sanctuary worship. This
corresponds to the numerous priestly laws in Parashat Emor.
BLOOD AND FAT
The parts of the sacrifices mentioned in the Haftara as including the
whole concept of sacrifice are blood and fat (44:15). Sprinkling the
blood on the corners of the altar and burning certain fats are the
major obligation in all sacrifices.
The evil inclination is a combination of two types of passion, that of
physical enjoyment and that of nonphysical desires like honor and
pride. Fat symbolizes the physical gain of gluttony and other
materialistic pleasures, while blood represents the dynamic greed for
glory and the endless pursuit of honor, which is often associated with
bloodshed -- the destruction of a fellow human. The idea of
sacrifices is for us to connect our cerebral, abstract repentance with
a physical action; we therefore offer up to G-d tangible entities
corresponding to the two parts of our evil inclination we wish to
overcome in order to refine ourselves and come closer to G-d.
================================
Written and Compiled by Rabbi Yaakov Asher Sinclair
General Editor: Rabbi Moshe Newman
Production Design: Michael Treblow
================================
Ohr Somayach International
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