Vayikra (Leviticus)

A B C B A

The five books of the Torah

A = Bereshit; B = Shemot; C = Vayikra; B = Bamidbar; A = Devarim.

If we view the five books of the Torah as a whole entity, we find interesting parallels.

Bereshit is a tale of a family and an evolution over generations from an individual's faith to a community's embrace of that belief. There were many bumpy roads traversed along the way but the core family emerges intact at the end of the story. Bereshit is a chronicle about the past

Shemot is about the blossoming of this family into a people. Shemot records the Jewish people's exodus from Egypt and their transition into a nomadic nation wandering the desert. Shemot is a chronicle of the present.

Whereas the other books are replete with stories, Vayikra has few stories and little character development. Its primary focus is on priestly laws with detailed attention given to animal sacrifices and personal purity. The culminating chapter, 19, focuses on "Kedoshim tihiyu - you shall be holy" by loving your neighbor as yourself.

Bamidbar picks up Exodus' trail. Through the desert, the Jewish people meet both internal dissent and external foes along the way. It is a book of complaints and hope as the people transition from the exodus generation to their children who will enter the Land of Israel. Bamidbar is a chronicle of the present.

In Devarim, the mitzvot are given for life during Temple times in the Land of Israel but upon receiving these commandments the Jews are still a nomadic people who can only dream of owning land. The Temple is yet to be built, and so Devarim is a chronicle of the future.

Bereshit and Devarim both focus on the land of Israel, past and future. Shemot and Bamidbar take place largely in the desert in the present. But if these four books cover the past, present and future, where does that leave Vayikra? It is left standing all alone as the timeless book of eternity focused on the service of the divine through purity and holiness.

The Midrash in Vayikra Rabbah asks, "Why do we begin teaching children the book of Vayikra and not Bereshit? Because children are pure and sacrifices are pure. Let the pure come and involve themselves with purity." A child, innocent and wholesome, was said to be worthy of partaking in this learning.

Vayikra is not simply a passage about obscure levitical rules or leprosy. Purity and holiness are the book's main focus, with the Torah providing the road map of how to achieve them. Vayikra endeavors to close the gap between humans and the Divine. But this relationship needs work. As the Underground in London admonishes us, one has to first "mind the gap" to understand how to narrow it.

In his biblical commentary, the Ramban (1194-1270) advises us to view sacrifices, korbanot, as a means of getting closer to God. Not as an ancient cultural ritual but rather as a timeless path to reach God. Korban, sacrifice, stems from the Hebrew root karov, to get close. Today, post-Temple, we have developed alternative methods of finding God. The rabbis instituted prayer and it opens up a communication channel for many.

A spiritual journey needs divine assistance and demands personal effort to ensure success. The Torah provides us with tools, and one such guide is the command to use salt on sacrifices. In Vayikra 2:13 - "All your near-offerings of a grain gift you are to salt with salt, you are not to omit the salt of your God's covenant from atop your grain-gift, atop all your near-offerings you are to bring-near salt." Salt is repeated four times for emphasis. Salt in ancient times was used as a preservative as well as a taste enhancer. Our relationship with God needs salt: eternal support as well as an infusion of taste, understanding and reason. One can simply go through the motions on autopilot, but eternal experiences need to include passion and salt!

Youth, who represent our past, present and future, are first taught the book of purity and spirituality. Children, filled with optimism, can readily look at the world with hope.They start out sans any preconceived biases. God is pure. Children are pure. Leviticus is pure. Let them all find each other and holiness can spring forth. God's presence can certainly be found in the other four books, but no other book has a central theme of God's holiness and the people's holiness as its pinnacle message.

Hillel acts as a wonderful preservative for our religion. Judaism has been around for thousands of years and we constantly need to make religion relative. Bland ritual will be tasteless and eventually abandoned. Reason-filled and salt-infused understanding will enhance and preserve Judaism for generations to come. The Jewish people are at a critical junction where the other four books of the Torah are threatening to pull us apart. We argue time and time again about whether we should return to our past, live in the present or only plan for the future. Vayikra's message of eternal purity and holiness can enable us to combine the best of the rest. We must not forget to please pass the salt, the spice of life!

Prepared by Rabbi Ari Israel, executive director, Hillel at the University of Maryland, College Park

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Additional commentaries and text studies on Parshat Vayikra at MyJewishLearning.com.

If the book of Shemot (Exodus) describes the melding, collective identity and destiny of the Jewish people, Vayikra (Leviticus) discusses how this community is to live its collective life and strive to higher levels of sanctification. The book deals with sacrifices, the rituals of sacrifices, and the role of kohanim, or priests.

The opening chapter of Vayikra deals with the intricacies and classification of sacrifices to be brought by the children of Israel. Unlike many other sections of the Torah, it is hard to find a lot of philosophical or metaphysical concepts in this section. Just details, i.e., this is brought for such and such type of sacrifice, and how it is done.

How do we reconcile the loftiness of the ideas set forth in this book with the dullness of its introduction? Just what role did sacrifices play in the lives of the children of Israel?

As you can imagine, the children of Israel were more connected to the necessities of life than we are today. They grew the food they needed and raised the livestock they ate. The sacrifices they offered came from this food and livestock - the very sustenance they needed to live. These sacrifices had real meaning to Jews then, and what sacrifices were offered for which cause had real significance and value in their day-to-day lives. Through burnt offerings, meal offerings, peace offerings, sin offerings and guilt offerings, actions were imbued with real meaning and import.

It is ironic that what seems dull, distant and anachronistic to us today was very real, immediate and relevant then. Sacrifices spoke to people in a way they could understand, and by utilizing that which was ordinary but essential to everyday life, sacrifices were able to transform that everyday life and imbue it with meaning and sanctity.

It is an interesting question to think about what speaks to us and can sanctify our lives in the same way today.

Prepared by Keith Krivitzky, associate director of development

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Additional commentaries and text studies on Parshat Vayikra at MyJewishLearning.com.

This week we begin reading the third book of the Bible, Leviticus or Sefer Vayikra as it is called in Hebrew. This book deals primarily with the laws of sacrifices that were to be brought in the Tabernacle in the desert and later in the Temple in Jerusalem.

Vayikra is often described as being inaccessible to modern readers, because we have a hard time relating to the detailed description of sacrificial worship that occupies a large part of the book. It is true that the details of Vayikra are often gory and confusing, but at a deeper level, the book is full of themes, symbols and ideas that resonate deeply with us. Finding meaning in Vayikra presents a challenge to us, but it is a challenge well worth taking.

The following verses from Chapter 4 of Vayikra describe the sacrifices that are to be brought when one sins accidentally. The chapter deals with both communal and individual sins.

Leviticus Chapter 4
The Lord spoke to Moses, saying: Speak to the Israelite people thus: When a person unwittingly incurs guilt in regard to any of the Lord's commandments about things not to be done, and does one of them -

If it is the anointed priest who has incurred guilt, so that blame falls upon the people, he shall offer for the sin of which he is guilty a bull of the herd without blemish as a sin offering to the Lord...

If it is the whole community of Israel that has erred and the matter escapes the notice of the congregation, so that they do any of the things which by the Lord's commandments ought not to be done, and they realize their guilt...

In case it is a chieftain who incurs guilt by doing unwittingly any of the things which by the commandment of the Lord his God ought not to be done, and he realizes his guilt...

If any person from among the populace unwittingly incurs guilt by doing any of the things which by the Lord's commandments ought not to be done, and he realizes his guilt...

Your Torah Navigator
1. Why does the Torah command a different sacrifice for these different groups of people?
2. Is there significance to the order in which the Torah lists these groups?
3. Why does the anointed chief's guilt cause blame to fall upon the people?

Many of the classical Biblical commentators are troubled by the same questions. The following two commentators focus on the fact that the leadership is addressed first.

Rabbeinu Bachya ben Asher (late 13th Century, Spain)
The order of sinners who bring sacrifices in this chapter is: The high priest, the Sanhedrin (supreme court), the king, and the general populace. It begins with the high priest who is a great man and a messenger of God so that everyone will see what he does, and thus all of Israel will do repentance (Teshuva) - when they see that the most diligent person among them brings a sacrifice for his transgression, they will all learn from him: Just as God forgives someone who is close to God who is not supposed to sin, all the more so God will forgive the rest of the nation.

Rashi on Leviticus 4:22
In case it is a chieftain who incurs guilt - (The Hebrew for this is: asher nasi yecheta). The word asher (in case) means "fortunate" (the Hebrew for fortunate is ashrei, which sounds like asher). Fortunate is the generation whose chieftain offers atonement for his accidental transgressions. All the more so that he regrets his willful transgressions.

Your Commentator Navigator
1. According to Rabbeinu Bachya, why do people feel comforted by the fact that the high priest is forgiven for his sins?
2. Is it fair to hold leaders to higher standards than the rest of the nation?
3. Why does Rashi think a generation is fortunate if its leaders offer atonement? Is it harder for a leader to admit that he/she is wrong than an average person?

A Word
Both Rashi and Rabbeinu Bachya recognize the powerful positions that leaders are in. Whether it is fair or not, leaders are held to higher standards, and people have greater expectations of them. Furthermore, leaders' actions have greater impact. Our chapter is dealing with instances when the law is broken because it has not been properly taught. When leaders are wrong in this context, they cause others to err as well. While this places a great deal of responsibility on leaders, at the same time the Torah recognizes that our leaders are fallible and that they will make mistakes.

The Torah's message is that while our leaders must be aware of the responsibility which they bear, they should have confidence in themselves and their abilities. At the same time, a critical leadership skill is to be willing to admit when you are wrong and to take the necessary steps to fix your mistakes.

Prepared by Elliot Kaplowitz, Iyyun Fellow, Schusterman International Center.

Learn More
Additional commentaries and text studies on Vayikra at MyJewishLearning.com.

This week's Torah portion, Tzav (Leviticus chapters 6-8), is like much of the end of the book of Exodus and keeps in line with the first five chapters that opened the book of Leviticus. Gone are the narrative sections that animate the book of Genesis and most of the book of Exodus. Instead, we find detailed lists of the laws concerning different types of sacrificial offerings (chapter 6 & 7) as well a description of the ritual installation of Aaron and his sons as priests (chapter 8).

There are many commentaries that skillfully explain the intricacies of the sacrificial system. Our Sages, both ancient and modern, have also shown tremendous ability in creatively teasing these texts in order to show off the legal, moral, ethical, historical and spiritual conclusions that can be reached by comparing and contrasting these verses to other texts or stories found in our tradition.

At times, explanation is provided without words. Proximity is enough. We see this each time we follow a Torah reading with a selection taken from the prophetic writings, otherwise known as the Haftarah reading. This week's Haftarah reading begins with 17 consecutive verses taken from Jeremiah 7-8 and concludes with 2 verses from the end of Jeremiah 9.

Selections from the Haftarah for Parashat Tzav:

Jeremiah 7: 30-34

30. For the children of Judah have done that which is evil in My sight, says the Lord; they have set their detestable things in the house whereon My name is called, to defile it.
31. And they have built the high places of Topheth, which is in the valley of the son of Hinnom, to burn their sons and their daughters in the fire; which I commanded not, neither came it into My mind.
32. Therefore, behold, the days come, says the Lord, that it shall no more be called Topheth, nor The valley of the son of Hinnom, but the valley of slaughter; for they shall bury in Topheth, for lack of room.
33. And the carcasses of this people shall be food for the fowls of the earth; and none shall frighten them away.
34. Then will I cause to cease from the cities of Judah, and from the streets of Jerusalem, the voice of mirth, and the voice of gladness, the voice of the bridegroom and the voice of the bride; for the land shall be desolate.

Jeremiah 9:22-23

22. Thus says the Lord: Let not the wise man glory in his wisdom, neither let the mighty man glory in his might, let not the rich man glory in his riches;
23. But let him that glories glory in this, the he understands, and knows Me, that I am the Lord who exercises mercy, justice and righteousness, in the earth; for in these things I delight, says the Lord.

Your Haftarah Navigator

1. The form of these passages is quite different from this week's Torah portion. How does the tone of these passages differ from the Torah reading this week?

2. Why is a passage from the Torah dealing with ritual connected to a passage from the book of Jeremiah decrying idol worship and describing the destruction that will follow as punishment?

3. How do the verses from Jeremiah 7 compare to the verses from Jeremiah 9?

4. Why do we conclude this week's Haftarah with two verses from Jeremiah 9 that do not immediately follow the passages from Jeremiah 7 & 8?

A Midrash taken from Sifrei (Deuteronomy), Parashat B'racha, Section 1:

V'zot Ha-B'racha - and this is the Blessing (Deuteronomy 33:1):

Since Moses had initially spoken harsh words to the Israelites... he now delivers words of comfort to them... All of the prophets followed Moses' lead since they would start out by speaking harshly to the Israelites and then deliver words of comfort to them... Thus, Jeremiah declared (Jeremiah 7:34): "Then will I cause to cease from the cities of Judah, and from the streets of Jerusalem, the voice of mirth, and the voice of gladness, the voice of the bridegroom and the voice of the bride; for the land shall be desolate." Later on (Jeremiah 31:13), he delivered words of comfort to them: "Then shall the maiden rejoice in the dance, and the young men and the old together; (for I will turn their mourning into joy, and will comfort them, and make them rejoice for their sorrow)."

Your Midrash Navigator

1. According to this passage, Moses' words of comfort come in the 33rd chapter of Deuteronomy, which is the second-to-last chapter of the Torah. Is Moses remembered for the harsher approach he took throughout earlier sections of the Torah? Why or why not?

2. The model highlighted in this passage is to follow rebuke with kinder sentiments. Is this always the best route?

A Word

It is quite shocking to read the Haftarah this week minus the appended words of comfort. Equally surprising is the first appearance of the phrase "the voice of mirth, and the voice of gladness, the voice of the bridegroom and the voice of the bride" in Jewish writing (for those of us familiar with the Hebrew original, the words are: Kol Sason, v'Kol Simcha, Kol Chatan v'Kol Kalah). This phrase appears three other times in the Hebrew bible, all of them in Jeremiah's prophetic work. Jeremiah will use this phrase to criticize the Israelites two more times, however, when he uses this phrase for the final time (Jeremiah 33:11), it is on a bright and optimistic note. It is this same tone of true happiness and celebration that we import into the seventh wedding blessing and the songs we sing around our tables, whether at camp, at conventions, or at meals. As we now see a Jerusalem and Israel caught in the throes of violence and witnessing bloodshed and sorrow, we pray that the sounds of joy and gladness epitomized by couples, friends, and visitors filling the cities of Judah and the streets of Jerusalem speedily return.

Prepared by Rabbi Andy Koren, Campus Rabbi, Hillel Foundation at the University of Florida.

(always read the Shabbat after Purim)

The rabbinic requirements for finding a red heifer in order to purify those defiled by the dead were exacting and difficult. The Torah commands that this animal be a "red cow wholly-sound, that has in it no defect, that has not yielded to a yoke." (Numbers 19:1-2)

The sages interpreted wholly-sound to mean completely red. Two non-red hairs in the same follicle would disqualify the expectant little heifer from the honor of purifying the defiled of Israel. (Mishnah Parah 2:5)

Purification rituals only applied to Jews. They are the most particularistic and they are the rituals which emphasize the unique relationship between the Jews as a "Kingdom of Priests and a Holy Nation" and the Holy One. In this context the following story from the Talmud is interesting.

Talmud Kiddushin 31a
Rabbi Eliezer was asked by his students: How much must one honor one's parents?

He answered: Take a look and see what a certain idolater named Dama son of Nethinah did in Ashkelon. The Sages sought jewels for the vest of the high priest which were valued at a profit of six-hundred-thousand [gold denari] - Rav Kahana taught that they were valued at a profit of eight-hundred-thousand - but the key to the storeroom was lying under his father's pillow and his father was sleeping at that time. Dama refused to trouble him. Dama lost the sale.

The following year the Holy One, gave him his reward. A red heifer was born to him in his herd. When the Sages of Israel went to him [to buy it], he said to them, "I know that [even] if I asked you for all the money in the world you would pay me. But I ask of you only the money that I lost through honoring my father."

Your Talmud Navigator
1. Why does God reward an idolater?
2. Why would God make us dependent on someone outside the community for the most insular of rituals?
3. What do the rabbis wish to teach us?

A Word
Dama exhibited his commitment to ethical behavior, even without the benefit of the Torah's commandments. He honored his father not because of the Torah, but because he cared for his father more than he cared about the sale.

When he realized he could charge whatever he wished, he only covered his loss rather than exploiting his neighbors for more money. His love for his earthly father, and his fairness to his neighbors are worth much to God, even if God is not counted in the equation. God also taught that even when the Jewish community is engaged in rituals that are "for Jews only" writ large, the outside world is still with us and we had better behave accordingly.

The last lines of the book of Exodus, have Moshe placing the finishing touches on the Mishkan, the Tabernacle. The Tabernacle is enveloped in clouds with the presence of the Holy One emanating from its center. Moshe is prevented from entering because the clouds indicate that the Holy One's presence is there in full glory. Then the next book, Leviticus/Vayikra, opens with God's inaugural meeting with Moshe Rabbenu.

Leviticus 1:1

"And He called to Moshe, and God spoke to him from the Tent of Meeting saying..."

Rashi on Leviticus 1:1

"Every time God spoke to Moshe, he was welcomed by this calling which was a term of endearment. It was the same language used by the ministering angels for they too, 'called one to the other...' (Isaiah)...And the voice went to Moshe alone for Israel was unable to hear the sound... Yet, everything God said to Moshe for thirty-eight years, was for the sake of Israel. It was only after the generation of the spies--those who were afraid to conquer the land of Israel-- had died that God spoke to Moshe for his sake alone. As it is written, "After all the people from the generation of the war had passed, God spoke to me." (Deuteronomy 2:16)

Your Rashi Navigator

1. What problem in the text is Rashi addressing?

2. How does he answer it?

3. Rashi says that God's calling Moshe to the tent was done in an endearing manner, but God's actual words were incredibly harsh, how do you understand this contrast?

4. What allows God to finally have a conversation with Moshe?

5. Why does this make a difference?

A Word

Rashi calls us to pay attention to the fact that God is literally calling on Moshe, but not like a salesperson or a telephone solicitor, but like a relative. It is like heeding "a calling" to what we feel we are destined to be. Moshe alone heard this voice even though this was the same voice that echoed thunderously at Sinai. The calling shook his very being, unbeknownst to those throngs milling about the camp.

More amazing is the fact that Moshe's calling was not for him at all, but it was for all of Israel. His calling was to be God's interpreter, God's translator, God's humanizer. Rashi notices that God never had a personal conversation with Moshe until after the generation of the spies had all finally died.

God's work was to try and keep Israel in order, Moshe's calling was to promote the cause of Israel and not his personal relationship with the Holy One. As long as the community wandered in the desert because of their disinclination to enter the land, God would only speak to Israel in stern tones and Moshe would not have the benefit of basking in God's grace.

Nevertheless, when God calls Moshe to these meetings, he does so with love, saying that these people are your responsibility, but my tone is directed toward them through you. You, Moshe, embody this generation in all they represent. My calling reminds us both that there is the potential for a relationship after our work is done, but only then.

Moshe finally gets that conversation after this generation is gone and before the new generation is about to conquer the land. It is there that, "God spoke to me..." Moshe says, and Rashi infers that God spoke to him with the gentleness and affection Moshe had always deserved. The promise that the conversation would indeed happen sometime was important enough that Rashi made note of it. It reminds us that how Moshe was called made it possible for him to receive the harsh word of his Lord.

(always read the Shabbat before Purim)

Is the Jewish Revenge Equal to Amalek?

This week is the Shabbat before the holiday of Purim. In commemoration of this, we read a portion of Deuteronomy concerning Amalek.

Deuteronomy 25:17-19
17. Remember what Amalek did to you by the way, when you came forth out of Egypt;

18. How he met you by the way, and struck at your rear, all who were feeble behind you, when you were faint and weary; and they did not fear God.

19. Therefore it shall be, when the Lord your God has given you rest from all your enemies around, in the land which the Lord your God gives you for an inheritance to possess, that you shall blot out the remembrance of Amalek from under heaven; you shall not forget it.

Your Torah Navigator
1. Why do we read this section of the Torah prior to Purim?
2. We are commanded to remember always what Amalek did to us. What did Amalek do that was so terrible? There were other nations who attacked Israel in the desert, why aren't we commanded to remember them?
3. What is the connection between the land of Israel and Amalek?
4. What do we learn from the fact that the Torah says "and they did not fear G-d"? Who is the "they?" Israel or Amalek?

The Zohar's Explanation
Soncino Zohar, Shemoth, Section 2,Page 65a

Rabbi Judah said, "It is written, 'Amalek is the first of the nations; but his latter end shall be that he perish for ever'" (Num. XXIV, 20). Was, then, Amalek the first of the nations? Were there not many tribes, nations, and peoples in the world before Amalek came?

The meaning is that Amalek was the first nation who feared not to proclaim war against Israel, as it says, "and he feared not God" (Deut. XXIV, 18); whilst the other nations were filled with fear and trembling before Israel at the time of the Exodus, as it says: "The peoples heard and were afraid; trembling took hold of the inhabitants of Pelesheth" (Ex. xv, 14).

In fact, apart from Amalek, there was no nation that was not awestruck before the mighty works of the Holy One, blessed be He. Therefore "his latter end shall be that he perish for ever."

Your Zohar Navigator
Amalek's only "sin" was that of chutzpah -- they were the first to attack Israel, immediately after Israel left Egypt. Why did God punish Amalek so severely for this seemingly minor infraction?

A Word

God.

Our God is known as a god of mercy. Usually we're known as a compassionate and caring nation, but sometimes we need to remember that we're not allowed to forget. Our obligation as a nation, and as a people, is to remember and to transfer to the next generation the memory of our history. We must remember our complete history, including the parts that are unpleasant.

Shabbat Shalom and have a wonderful Purim!

Prepared by Rabbi Meni Even-Israel, Hillel at SUNY Stony Brook.

Oftentimes in the world of Jewish communal service, we forget what it is that separates Jews, what makes us distinct and what makes us a community. When Jews came to North America in 1654, they brought the concept of kashrut (Jewish dietary laws) with them. When these early Americans sat with the founding fathers of this country, it was at a different table, eating different food. This action speaks to two thoughts: kashrut is something that defined these Jews as a community, among themselves and within themselves; kashrut also served to separate them from the rest of the people in their midst. Kashrut was thus a defining factor in creating and dividing this community and perhaps had an impact on the relationship between Jews and their new home. Kashrut plays a large role in this week's parsha and necessitates questions of what role kashrut played in the time of Moshe and Aaron, in 1654 and today.

Parshat Shemini, which literally refers to the opening of the Tent of Meeting on the eighth day, includes both a story as well as many instructions. The first half of the text tells us of Moshe, Aaron and Aaron's sons. Moshe asks Aaron to make a sacrifice, "making expiation for yourself and for the people; and sacrifice the people's offering and make expiation for them, as the Lord has commanded." Aaron follows the specific instructions with regard to the slaughtering and presentation of the sin offering, as told to him by Moshe. When the sacrifice is complete, "the Lord appeared to all the people. Fire came forth from before the Lord and consumed the burnt offering and the fat parts on the altar." This was proof that God exists and gave the Israelites faith in the actions of Moshe and Aaron.

With the example set of how to sacrifice, and, after spending seven days in the Tent of Meeting for their period of ordination, two of Aaron's sons offer the Lord a strange fire, and they are immediately killed. Aaron's sons are carried away, and Aaron is told not to mourn publicly for fear of angering the entire community. Instead, he is rejoined with an instruction from God: "Drink no wine or other intoxicant...for you must distinguish between the sacred and the profane, and between the clean and the unclean." The rest of the Parsha outlines the rules of kashrut-what animals, birds, and sea creatures can and can not be eaten, and God tells us to follow the instructions so that "you shall be holy, for I am holy."

The initial question I struggle with is, what is the connection between what has just happened to Aaron's sons and God's introduction of the laws of kashrut? Why does God choose this point in time to dictate the rules of kashrut? Is God showing us that there are important choices to be made in life? Kashrut is presented as a distinction that we must recognize-a difference between certain living things, that some are pure and holy, that some are not. Rabbi Lauren Eichler Berkun of the Jewish Theological Seminary writes, "By now we are familiar with the theme. We must make choices: not all animals may be sacrificed. We must make distinctions: not all fires are godly. We must make separations: there is a time and a place to mourn, to drink, to feast ..." We learn that God has very specific answers, and the stage is now set for the laws of kashrut to be passed down.

These laws take up about half of the parsha and are very exact in their nature. I want to offer the idea that it is not these laws themselves that make Jews and the Jewish community, but it is our ability to make choices-between pure and impure, holy and unholy, and between kosher and unkosher. As American Jews, we are part of a society that demands we be a community, and that community demands we be part of the greater society. In this overlap, we are faced with choice: to be kosher, to be part of this community, to try to make change in ourselves and our society. The choice to be a Jewish community within the context of the larger American society originated with the first Jews that came to the United States in 1654 and through the waves of immigrants that followed-Jews of different backgrounds with different customs came to form a culture that requires we decide who we are.

Prepared by Abbey Greenberg, Tzedek program associate, Hillel's Schusterman International Center

Learn More
Additional commentaries and text studies on Shemini at MyJewishLearning.com.

On many mornings, my 2-year-old son wakes me at an ungodly hour to offer some very godly words of thanks. He sings Modeh Ani in his little toddler voice - Thank you, God, for restoring my soul to me in compassion. Upon hearing these words, I quickly join in by giving thanks to the Holy One for granting me another day of health in this world, for the gifts of beautiful miracles like my children, and for this special moment. It is important to offer thanks when we truly feel blessed.

In Parshat Tzav, the explanations concerning the principal types of sacrifice are continued. In modern times, when sacrifice is no longer a requirement or an actual possibility for us, we seek out new ways to fulfill the essence of these tribal rituals and to make them applicable to our lives. The Zevach ha-Shlamim offering for well-being, we are taught, may be offered to God for thanksgiving. When would a person bring such a gift to God? The Babylonian Talmud in tractate Berakhot identifies the situations in which our ancestors would have brought this todah (offering of thanksgiving). These times include when one has safely completed a dangerous journey, recovered from illness, been released from confinement or survived other serious dangers.

Today, no one is running out to mix some matzah with oil and animal flesh to dedicate to God after surviving a car accident, so instead of the sacrificial offering, we have a wonderful tradition observed in congregations all over the world. The one who has survived or avoided misfortune offers the Gomel blessing during the Torah reading. Bentching Gomel can be a very powerful way to affirm faith in God and to express our gratitude for recovery from critical illness or from being spared a danger (including during childbirth).

The todah offering had to be eaten on the same day it was offered, prompting the Biblical commentator Abravanel to suggest that since it must be consumed in a single day, the one who offered the sacrifice would invite more people to share it, thus publicizing the miracle to others. Similarly, the Shulchan Aruch (code of Jewish law) explains that the Gomel blessing should be recited aloud before 10 people (not including the one who is reciting the blessing). Proclaiming one's thanks publicly both publicizes the miracle more widely and allows others to share in the gratitude.

The words of the Gomel blessing help us articulate our sincere appreciation to God and also remind the congregation of God's salvation. "Praised are you, Lord our God, Sovereign of the universe, who graciously bestows favor upon the undeserving, even as He has bestowed favor on me." The congregation then responds with the affirming words, "May He who has been gracious to you continue to favor you with all that is good."

In the Talmud, the text explains that one "needs" to bring the todah offering rather than using the term "obligated." This is possibly to suggest that the grateful individual makes this sacrifice of thanksgiving to fulfill a psychological need rather than to fulfill a mitzvah (religious requirement). So too, no one is forced to bentch Gomel, but there is a clear emotional and spiritual benefit to the experience.

Most of us feel good when we express our appreciation to others. This might be done by way of a thank-you note following the acceptance of a gift or favor, a phone call to recognize the generosity of friend, or a financial contribution to tzedakah to show our gratitude. We also must make our appreciation to God known, and the Gomel custom is a great way to achieve this.

Many of us use the Shehechiyanu blessing to express our thanks to God and this, too, is a nice custom. However, the Shehechiyanu blessing has become overused and trite in many communities, causing it to lose some of its beauty and meaning. We should only offer the Shehechiyanu blessing when it is mandated and at very special milestones.

We should encourage our friends and relatives to bentch Gomel when they have survived an accident, recovered from serious illness or overcome a potential danger. However, to ensure that the Gomel blessing does not become commonplace like the Shehechiyanu blessing, and that it continues to fulfill a spiritual and psychological need, we should re-evaluate the times it should be said.

Overseas air travel and sea voyages no longer possess the danger they once did. Many of us travel routinely overseas for business and pleasure without ever feeling that our life was in peril. Let us use the Gomel blessing, today's todah offering, sparingly. By not overusing this blessing, I am certain we will garner more spiritual meaning when we bentch Gomel and when we respond to the Gomel blessing of others. Offering those beautiful words of gratefulness before our community we will surely fulfill the words of the Psalmist who wrote, "It is good to give thanks to the Lord" (Psalm 92).

May we be blessed to find comfort and healing in our gifts of thanksgiving to God, and may we feel strengthened by sharing in other's gifts of thanksgiving.

Prepared by Rabbi Jason Miller, associate director and director of religious life, University of Michigan Hillel

Learn More
Additional commentaries and text studies on Parshat Tzav at MyJewishLearning.com.

This week we begin reading the book of Vayikra, or Leviticus. Vayikra begins by describing in extensive detail the instructions for offering sacrifices. The complexity of the process combined with the often bloody detail illustrated by the text leads many to conclude that this parsha is archaic, obsolete, and of little use to modern Jews today. After all, the Jewish people have evolved thousands of years past the age of animal sacrifice and our rituals today bear little to no resemblance to those from thousands of years ago. However, perhaps even though the practices themselves no longer exist and very well may make our stomachs turn, we can still relate the themes and greater meaning to our lives and our struggle to connect our ancient tradition with modernity.

Leviticus Chapter 1: 1-4
The Lord called to Moses and spoke to him from the Tent of Meeting, saying: Speak to the Israelite people, and say to them: When any of you presents an offering of cattle to the Lord, he shall choose his offering from the herd or from the flock. If his offering is a burnt offering from the herd, he shall make his offering a male without blemish. He shall bring it to the entrance of the Tent of Meeting, for cceptance in his behalf before the Lord. He shall lay his hand upon the head of the burnt offering, that it may be acceptable in his behalf, in xpiation for him.

Your Torah Navigator
1. What does the commandment that the offering must be "without blemish" convey about the requirements of the offering?
2. Why do you think an Israelite must "lay his hand upon the head" of the offering? What does this add to the act of offering the sacrifice?
3. How do you think bringing an offering of cattle to the Lord brings about expiation?

In these opening four verses of the book, the text refers to presenting a korban (offering) and an olah (burnt offering). Olah comes from the Hebrew word to ascend (make aliya, etc.) and thus presents an image of the smoke of the offering rising up to God, a natural image when picturing sacrifice. The word for offering, korban, derives from the Hebrew word close or ear. How does this notion of proximity relate to an offering?

A Word
The intricate details presented in the text about how to choose which cattle to offer to God, from where, and what characteristics it should have indicates the importance of an offering's worth and value. Obviously, when offering a symbol of your devotion to God, you want to bring something with meaning and worth, thus something close to you. However, a korban is not simply something close to us that we then in turn offer to God, but rather the means to the end of bringing us closer to God. The act of the sacrifice might require the Israelites to bring an offering close to them and to their hearts. However, the act itself is not as important as the result: the connection formed between God and the Jewish people.

Though we no longer practice sacrifices today, Jewish ritual has evolved to encompass other mechanisms to achieve closeness with God. Prayer is the most obvious way in which we worship and connect ourselves with the Divine presence. Like offering sacrifices, prayer occurs at fixed times and requires we take time out of our day to go, pray, and achieve this closeness. However, we do not need to take time out from our lives at set intervals to bring ourselves closer to God. Performing acts of loving kindness, pursuing justice, welcoming the guest, consoling the mourner – these are all ways we as modern Jews offer our own korbanot by bringing God's presence into this world through our action. Though we may read this week's parsha, and much of Vayikra, and think that it no longer applies to modern Jews and a modern world, I urge you to think about how you can bring yourself close to the divine presence. Our civilization may have evolved beyond animal sacrifice, yet we certainly have not evolved beyond the need to connect with something greater than ourselves.

Prepared by Dena Wigder, Iyyun Fellow, Hillel's Joseph Meyerhoff Center for Jewish Learning.

Learn More
Additional commentaries and text studies on Parshat Vayikra at MyJewishLearning.com.

This week's parsha opens with the description of a rather odd commandment. The cohen is commanded to remove the ashes from the previous day's sacrifices that have burned on the altar all night, and carry them outside of the Mishkan (Tabernacle) to a designated place outside the camp.

Essentially, the priest is being told to take out the garbage. Of course, this is not ordinary garbage - the remnants of the sacrifices have a status of elevated sanctity, as evidenced from the fact that the Gemara in Pesachim 26a rules that the ashes are subject to me'ilah - misappropriation of sanctified items.

Furthermore, we may have expected this work to be done by a custodian, or the equivalent of a minimum wage worker. Yet we are told that this act was performed by the kohanim, the priests - the most privileged people in the Temple.

The Talmud in Yoma 23b identifies two stages to this ritual: terumat ha-deshen - lifting the pile of ashes from the altar; and hotza'at ha-deshen - removing the pile of ashes from the Temple. The Talmud also notes that the terumat ha-deshen (removing the ashes from the altar) was considered an avodah, a formal service in the Temple. There is even a debate over whether the second step of removing the ashes from the Temple is also considered an avodah.

Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch, the leading figure of the 19th Century German Orthodox community has a beautiful analysis of the terumat ha-deshen and hotza'at ha-deshen rituals. Rav Hirsch explains that we should not think the removal of ashes from the altar is a preparatory stage for the new day's Temple service. Rather, it is the final conclusion of the previous day's service.

As the priest is about to begin the new day's service in the Temple, he first concludes the previous day's work. As Rav Hirsch writes: "It would give the idea, as the introduction to the service of the day that, 'Today brings no new mission, it has only to carry out, ever afresh, the mission that yesterday too was to accomplish… The Jewish 'Today' has to take its mission from the hand of its 'Yesterday.' "

Indeed, we all understand that the need for continuity from one day to the next is crucial. However, there is a danger in placing too much emphasis on the previous day's work - the danger of living in the past, and of thinking we have fulfilled all of our responsibilities. This, explains Rav Hirsch, is why there is a need for the ritual of hotza'at ha-deshen (removing the ashes from the Temple) as well. We cannot focus our thoughts and energy on that which we have already achieved.

He explains: "The thought of what has already been accomplished can be the death of that which is still to be accomplished. Woe unto him who, with smug self-complacency thinks he can rest on his laurels, on what he has already achieved, and who does not meet the task of every fresh day with full fresh devotion as if it were the fist day of his life's work!"

This message explains another detail in the Torah's description of the ritual. We are told that the cohen must change his clothes in between performing the terumat ha-deshen and the hotza'at ha-deshen. The Talmud (Yoma 23b) explains that he is to wear clothes that are worn out and less valuable for the hotza'at ha-deshen.

Rabbi Hirsch understands the message of this detail to be: "The past is to be there and not forgotten, but it is to be retired to the background, and is not to invest us with pride before the fresh task to which each new day calls us."

We must live with a delicate balance. On the one hand, to contextualize our current responsibilities as being connected with and a continuation of the previous day's work; on the other hand, we cannot place too strong of an emphasis on the past and what we have already accomplished.

The balance described by Rav Hirsch in his analysis of the terumat and hotza'at ha-deshen is the same balance we seek to achieve at the Pesach seder. On the one hand, we come to the seder with a very strong sense of history. We tell the story of what happened to our ancestors thousands of years ago in Egypt. We all have sentimental memories and nostalgia for the sedarim we celebrated as children. Yet, our goal of the seder is not merely to tell the story and focus on the past.

As we read in the Haggadah, "In every generation a person must see him/herself as if he/she personally went out of Egypt." We must make the story and message of Pesach relevant to us in our current situation. Furthermore, we express our desire to say before Hashem a "new song" (shirah chadashah) because the praise that we say to God once we have made the story of Pesach relevant and applicable to our lives is a brand new, unprecedented song of praise for God.

Written by Rabbi Elliot Kaplowitz, co-director of the Jewish Learning Initiative at Brandeis University.

Much of Leviticus with its details of sacrifices and the minutiae of the functions performed in the Sanctuary can make even the most adept and scholarly among us feel "sermonically challenged".

It is heartening to realize that this was not just a problem for the modern sensibility, but even the rabbis of the Talmud and the ancient Midrash had to find ways to glean meaning from these arcane verses for their congregations. In the following Midrash on Parshat Tzav, the Rabbis examine a verse from Psalms where they are struck with the comparison of the sacrifices to a broken spirit and a crushed heart.

The Psalmist wishes to emphasize that the power of the ritual is entirely dependent on the heartfelt intention of the one who is performing the sacrifice.

Your Midrash Navigator

Read the Midrash and try to understand the following: Is there a relationship between being good and being in despair? Why do sacrifices require a heart that is contrite, full of regret? If that is truly what is important then why have the sacrifice at all? In the larger context, why is it necessary to ritualize feelings with actions that are prescribed for the whole community? How do we prove that are broken hearts are real?

Midrash: Vayikra (Leviticus) Rabba 7:2

The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart, God,
You will not despise a contrite and crushed heart.

May it please You to make Zion prosper; rebuild the walls of Jerusalem. Then You will want sacrifices offered in righteousness...? (Psalms. 51:19).

Zabdi ben Levi, and Rabbi Jose ben Petros and the Rabbis gave interpretations.

One of them said: David said before the Holy One: "I sacrificed my Evil Inclination and repented before You; if You will accept my repentance, I will know that Solomon my son will arise and build the Sanctuary, build the altar and offer the sacrifices commanded in the Torah."

This we conclude from these verses:

"The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart, God, You will not despise a contrite and crushed heart." May it please You to make Zion prosper; rebuild the walls of Jerusalem. Then You will want sacrifices offered in righteousness...(ib. 19f.). The other [opinion] said: Where do we know that if a man repents it counts as if he had gone up to Jerusalem and built the Temple and the altars and offered all the sacrifices ordained in the Torah"

From these verses:

"The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart, God, You will not despise a contrite and crushed heart.? May it please You to make Zion prosper; rebuild the walls of Jerusalem. Then You will want sacrifices offered in righteousness..."

Your Midrash Navigator...again

This midrash was written during the time when the Temple was already destroyed. Analyze these two positions.
What can they agree upon.
Where do they disagree?
Does one opinion appeal to you more than the other?
Why?

In many ways the Temple was a slaughterhouse for our sins. The drama of the sacrifice was to shatter our hearts so that we could open ourselves once more to the possibility of moral perfection. As frail human beings we are always doomed to fall short, the sacrifices were used to shatter our complacency and induce real change which, as Jews, we believe is possible.

So, too, the removal of Hametz on Pesach symbolizes a removal of swollen arrogance only to be replaced by the flat matza of redemption. This is our month, the month to be liberated from that which holds us back. This is the time to be liberated from the arrogance of false pride, to then take the broken pieces of our spirit and to ask to be made whole again.

Prepared by Rabbi Avi Weinstein, director, Joseph Meyerhoff Center for Jewish Learning.

This week's sidra begins with the third Book of Moses, Vayikra. The book is generally known to English speakers as Leviticus, as its narrative centers on the sacrificial system which is to be administered by the descendants of Jacob's son, Levy. The sacrificial system is difficult to grasp, not only because of its many details, but also because it is so alien in form and substance to the religion of contemporary Jewry. The chapters which follow outline the principal forms of worship as they took place in the Tabernacle and later, in both the First and Second Temples. Pious Jews pray daily for the restoration of these rites and understand the current synagogue service, influenced in many ways by the sacrificial system, as but a poor substitute for the glory of the Temple, where the Divine-Human encounter reached it zenith.

Leviticus Chapter 1

1. And the Lord called to Moses, and spoke to him out of the Tent of Meeting, saying,
2. Speak to the people of Israel, and say to them, If any man of you brings an offering to the Lord, you shall bring your offering of the cattle, of the herd, and of the flock.
3. If his offering is a burnt sacrifice of the herd, let him offer a male without blemish; he shall offer it of his own voluntary will at the door of the Tent of Meeting before the Lord.
4. And he shall put his hand upon the head of the burnt offering; and it shall be accepted for him to make atonement for him.
5. And he shall kill the bull before the Lord; and the priests, the sons of Aaron, shall bring the blood, and sprinkle the blood around upon the altar that is by the door of the Tent of Meeting.
6. And he shall flay the burnt offering, and cut it into his pieces.
7. And the sons of Aaron the priest shall put fire upon the altar, and lay the wood in order upon the fire;
8. And the priests, the sons of Aaron, shall lay the parts, the head, and the fat, in order upon the wood that is on the fire which is upon the altar;
9. But its entrails and its legs shall he wash in water; and the priest shall burn all on the altar, to be a burnt sacrifice, an offering made by fire, of a sweet savor to the Lord.
10. And if his offering is of the flocks, namely, of the sheep, or of the goats, for a burnt sacrifice; he shall bring a male without blemish.
11. And he shall kill it on the northern side of the altar before the Lord; and the priests, the sons of Aaron, shall sprinkle his blood around upon the altar.
12. And he shall cut it in pieces, with its head and its fat; and the priest shall lay them in order on the wood that is on the fire which is upon the altar;
13. But he shall wash the entrails and the legs with water; and the priest shall bring it all, and burn it upon the altar; it is a burnt sacrifice, an offering made by fire, of a sweet savor to the Lord.

The sidra describes some of the sacrifices that were offered, viz:

1. The Olah, or burnt offering: a sacrifice of cattle, sheep, goats or birds. It was to be burned in its entirety as a form of atonement.
2. The Minchah, or meal offering: a sacrifice of grain. This served as a less costly alternative to the Olah.
3. The Zevach Hashlamin, the thanksgiving sacrifice. An offering freely given as an act of adoration. Any of the types of animals used for the olah, could be offered as a zevach hashlamim.
4. The Chatat, or sin offering. This was an animal sacrifice by a person who accidentally commits a sin.
5. The Asham, or guilt offering. This was a sacrifice given, similar to the chatat, but offered by someone who offended against sanctuary property.

Your Torah Navigator

1. Is the notion of animal sacrifice something that you think should be restored? Why or why not? Does God want or need sacrifices?

2. In some of the sacrifices, portions of the animal are eaten after some of the organs are burned. In what ways is this different than kosher slaughter?

3. Do you make sacrifices? What sort?

4. The aleph which ends the first word of the sidra "vayikra," is written in miniature Torah script. One Chasidic master, Rabbi Bunim of P'schish'cha said that this was to honor Moses, who was the humblest person who ever lived. But surely Moses knew that he, as the recipient of the Torah, who speaks with God, was the greatest man in Jewish, if not all of human history. In what sense, therefore, was Moses, humble?

5. Shakespeare wrote (Henry V, Act 3: scene 1):
In peace there's nothing so becomes a man
As modest stillness and humility:
But when the blast of war blows in our ears,
Then imitate the action of the tiger;
Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood,
Disguise fair nature with hard-favour'd rage.

Like Henry, Moses was a ruler, lawgiver and warrior. How does this square with the notion of humility? Can a ruler be meek?

Prepared by Rabbi Kenneth L. Cohen, Director, American University Hillel.

One of the first mitzvot mentioned in Parshat Tzav is that of terumat hadeshen, or removal of the ashes. Every morning, a priest would take the ashes from the previous day's sacrifices from the altar, removing them from the camp when a quantity of ashes had accumulated.

The commentaries understand this mitzvah in a variety of ways. The Sefer Hachinuch sees this mitzvah as serving an aesthetic or utilitarian purpose, saying that the altar becomes more beautiful when the ashes are cleared away, and that the fire burns better when there are no ashes under the flame. (Sefer Hachinuch, Mitzvah 131). Rav Samson Raphael Hirsch views this mitzvah symbolically, writing that the daily removal of the ashes represents putting aside yesterday's accomplishments in order to "set out upon our task with full, renewed devotion as if we had never accomplished anything before." (Hirsch on Leviticus 6:4). Finally, the author of Chovot Halevavot comments that the goal of this mitzvah is to improve the character of the priest by instilling humility within him. Performing the menial chore of clearing out the ashes from the altar each day served to remove haughtiness from his heart (Chovot Halevavot Gate 6, "The Gate of Lowliness" Chapter 6).

This last explanation takes on a special irony in light of a mishnah in Yoma. The mishnah describes how initially, any priest could perform the terumat hadeshen. When a number of priests wanted to perform the service they would race up the ramp of the altar, and whoever won the race would merit the job. In case of a tie, each priest would extend one or two fingers and they would count off to a predetermined number in order to break the tie. One time, two priests were tied running up the ramp. In his haste to merit the service, one priest pushed the other off the ramp and the second priest fell and broke his leg. When the beit din saw that this was a dangerous procedure, it decreed that the priest that would perform the terumat hadeshen would be determined by lottery (Yoma 22a).

How ironic is it that zeal to perform a task that was designed to instill humility could lead to such haughty behavior? What could be more self-serving than shoving a peer in order to merit an additional righteous act? Though at first blush, the story in the mishnah sounds very extreme, I think that it touches on a fairly common tendency. It can be tempting to want to be the most humble, religious, or righteous person, and it takes perspective to determine which actions are coming from true religious motives and which stem from a more superficial competition with others. Perhaps one litmus test between the two is how an individual acts in private, when no one else is there to observe his righteous behavior or to praise his accomplishment.

The mitzvah of terumat hadeshen demonstrates how a mitzvah that seems very far removed from our lives today can be relevant to us on several different levels. It illustrates the absurdity of a competition for who can be the most humble, and gives us an opportunity to examine the motivations behind our actions.

Written by Adena Frazer, Co-Director of the Jewish Learning Initiative, Hillel at Brandeis University

Learn More
Additional commentaries and text studies on Parshat Tzav and Passover at MyJewishLearning.com.

(always read the Shabbat after Purim)
I was just in the supermarket two days before Purim and already, the Pesach food display is prominent harkening everyone t'o the fact that the festival of freedom will be here before we know it. There is method to this, and even Talmudic precedent.

Babylonian Talmud, Pesachim 6b
"One should learn and expound upon the laws of Pesach thirty days before Pesach. Rabban Shimon Ben Gamliel says "Two weeks before Pesach..."

The Talmud goes on to offer proofs from the Torah for both positions. For the anonymous teacher, the reason given is that Moshe offered the laws for Pesach Sheni (The make up Pesach for those who were too far away, or were ritually impure) on the regular Pesach, so one sees one starts learning thirty days before.

Rabban Shimon Ben Gamliel's position comes from the fact that the first Mitzvah that is Pesach related is Rosh Chodesh Nisan, when the verse basically says, "This month is yours..."

Babylonian Talmud Megilla 4b
The rabbis taught: Moshe decreed for Israel that they should teach and expound the laws of Pesach on Pesach, the laws of Shavuot on Shavuot, and Succot on Succot.

Your Talmud Navigator
1. Do these two Talmudic passages complement or contradict each other?
2. Is there a difference between what one learns on the day and what one learns before?

A Word
Holidays do not only signify the days themselves, but they are also markers for seasons. Before we could leave Egypt, there was much to prepare. Just as we prepared to leave then, we must prepare to leave every year. This is a different type of learning experience then the teaching of Laws on the festival Pesach itself. This learning is not the learning of preparation, but the learning of celebration, of experiencing joy through immersion in our traditions. Thirty days prior to the festival, we prepare for the moment. When the moment comes, we savor it through study. Two different experiences; two different commandments.

Prepared by Avi Weinstein, Director, Joseph Meyerhoff Center for Jewish Learning.

Learn More
Additional commentaries and text studies on Vayikra at MyJewishLearning.com.

SOMETIMES NOT ONLY AN ANIMAL WAS SACRIFICED

In the beginning of Parshat Tzav, the first sacrifice introduced is the Korban Olah. We are taught that the fire that burns this sacrifice should not be extinguished, and that the limbs of this sacrifice should burn throughout the night. The Kohen, the priest, lifts these ashes ceremoniously and then changes clothes. He then removes the ashes from the altar and carries them outside the encampment.

The question arises in the Talmud of how the Kohen is chosen for this task. The Mishnah of Tractate Yom Hakippurim gives a painful, but interesting history lesson.

Talmud Yoma 22a

Mishnah: Originally whosoever desired to remove [the ashes from] the altar did so. If they were many, they would run and mount the ramp [of the altar] and he that came first within four cubits obtained the privilege. If two were even, the officer would say to them [all:] raise the finger! and how many did they put forth? One or two but one did not put forth the thumb in the Temple. It once happened that two were even as they ran to mount the ramp. One of them pushed his fellow who fell and broke his leg. When the court saw that they incurred danger, they ordained that the ashes of the altar be cleared only by a lottery.

Your Mishnah Navigator

1. What would be the purpose of having a race to the altar?

2. Why did someone have to get hurt before the practice was halted?

Later on, when commenting on this Mishnaic incident, the Gemara recounts another tragedy which resulted from the Kohanim racing up the platform to retrieve the ashes:

Talmud Yoma 23a

Our Rabbis taught: It once happened that two priests were equal as they ran to mount the ramp and when one of them came first within four cubits of the altar, the other took a knife and thrust it into his heart.

Rabbi Zadok stood on the steps of the Hall and said: Our brethren of the house of Israel, hear ye! Behold it says: If one be found slain in the land... then thy elders and judges shall come forth... On whose behalf shall we offer the heifer whose neck is to be broken, on behalf of the city or on behalf of the Temple Courts? All the people burst out weeping. The father of the young man came and found his son still in convulsions.

He said: 'May he be an atonement for you. My son is still in convulsions and the knife has not become unclean.'

[His remark] comes to teach you that the cleanness of their vessels was of greater concern to them even than the shedding of blood. Thus is it also said: Moreover Manasseh shed innocent blood very much, till he had filled Jerusalem from one end to the other.

Your Talmud Navigator

1. Whom does Rabbi Zadok think is responsible for the death of the Kohen?

2. Why doesn't he blame the person who murdered his fellow Kohen?

3. What is the institutional responsibility here?

4. What motivates the Kohanim who arise early to run up the ramp to clear the ashes?

5. What happens to the society when its sacred instruments are valued more than the people who use them?

A Word

It is ironic that the prize offered for winning the race is a pile of ashes. The Talmud says that the reason a lottery was not implemented was that they assumed few would rise early in the morning for such a task. Many arose early to serve God in this way. This was devotion that required extra effort, but it was devotion that would serve God at the expense of God's own creation.

The irony that passionate devotion to the service of God can cause some to be contemptuous of human life is an old one. While the Mishnah warns of broken legs, the Gemara reminds that this is only where it begins. If removing the ashes from the altar has become an end justified by any means, then this altar may as well be a Roman circus. If the purity of a knife takes precedence over the life of one's child, what does that say about the culture within which one lives?

The rabbis in recounting these uncomplimentary incidents caution those whose job it is to be God's formal servants. They are the ones in jeopardy of losing not only perspective, but what many hope is a natural, intuitive moral compass. The spiritual leaders among us need to be reminded that their temptations may emanate from the very execution of their sacred tasks. The Talmud reminds us that God is never reached by pushing somebody out of the way.

This week's parsha, Shemini, offers us both a dramatic narrative of events and concludes with what will become the basis of the laws of kashrut. Following the dedication of the Tabernacle and the ordination of the priests, two of Aaron's sons, Nadav and Avihu, wait outside the Tent of Appointed Meeting for seven days and nights. On the eighth day, Moses summons Aaron and his sons to bring a specific offering before God. Aaron and his sons prepare the animal sacrifices as they are commanded, and as a result "the Presence of the Lord appeared to all the people. Fire came forth before the Lord and consumed the burnt offering... and all the people saw, and shouted, and fell on their faces" (9:23-44). This awesome moment illustrates the visible presence of God and indicates that the sacrifice was successful; God appeared to the people as a result.

The parsha continues: "Now Aaron's sons, Nadav and Avihu, each took his fire pan, put fire in it, and laid incense on it; and they offered before the Lord alien fire, which He had not enjoined upon them. And fire came forth from the Lord and consumed them; thus they died at the instance of the Lord. Then Moses said to Aaron, 'This is what the Lord meant when He said: Through those near to Me I show Myself holy, and gain glory before all the people.' And Aaron was silent." (9:24- 10:3)

This sequence of events raises a number of questions about the circumstances under which the two brothers died; we are not told the exact reason why they are killed. Midrash Rabba offers an insight suggesting that the brothers were not married and did not have children. Although they were not killed as a result of this situation, the Midrash tells us that they felt they were too special to marry just any woman of the community, given their higher status as children of Aaron.

Additionally, the Midrash offers an explanation about the fire that consumed the brothers. It says that "and it consumed them" does not actually refer to the fire, but to the brothers' narrow focus of worshiping God that cut them off from the community because they were so consumed with the duty to perform his commandments.

From this Midrash we are able to better understand the reasoning behind such a harsh punishment. Judaism focuses on the community rather than just the individual. Jewish practices like the minyan, sitting shiva and text study are done through groups and communities rather than on an individual basis. Similarly, Aaron makes the first sacrifice as a representative of the Jewish community rather than as an individual. Herein lays the mistake of his sons and the lesson that we can take from this parsha. By considering themselves superior to the rest of their community, they in effect separated themselves from God and lost sight of the meaning and purpose of their actions.

Rabbi Shimon Felix further expands upon this idea of communal separation. He comments that their offering of a "strange fire, which they had not been commanded to bring" places Aaron's sons above Aaron and Moses. Felix suggests that this offering is a spontaneous and creative act, one that did not adhere to the strict laws that God sets forth. Thus, Nadav and Avihu's act is holier (than a strict observance of the law) and privileged. Again, realized through the prism of a communal structure, we can best understand Nadav and Avihu's actions by seeing their separation from the community. Unable to partake in the communal ritual, they instead exceed the community's boundaries and place themselves above everyone else, in this case, the communal leaders Moses and Aaron.

Both of these stories illustrate the need for community, the need to reach out to others to achieve a spiritual connection as well as the detrimental consequences that can occur when one turns away from the community or acts as though he/she has no need in connecting with the community. Community plays a special role in the work we do as an organization. Our best moments often take place when we come together as a community. When we push ourselves to go further with our students and reach out beyond our traditional base, we create a sense of community, and thus holiness, that we can't otherwise achieve on our own. Our inability at times to realize our greater place within the Jewish community can blind us to the needs of students and the greater Jewish community, however. This parsha offers a stern warning to such actions and the value that Judaism places on that community. We can all learn a valuable lesson from the tragedy of Nadav and Avihu and remember that we are not separate from the community but rather a part of a much broader idea, the Jewish community. At times, we may lose focus of the greater picture and become consumed with our particular mission and issues, but the Torah portion this week reminds us of the importance of creating context and maintaining balance between our own work and the work of our greater community.

Prepared by Stephanie Schwartz, Hochberg Israel fellow

Learn More
Additional commentaries and text studies on Shemini at MyJewishLearning.com.

The Torah portions that we're currently reading, Tazria and Metzora, deal with the biblical affliction known as tzara'at, a term which has no English equivalent but is often translated as "leprosy" and seems to be related to the term "psoriasis." These portions are among the most uninteresting in the entire Torah, and rabbis cringe when they think about what they will sermonize on Shabbat.

Engaging the text directly, though, one will note that there's a clearly discernable pattern in what the Torah calls the tzara'at - afflicted person:

13:2 When a man shall have in the skin of his flesh a rising, or a scab, or a bright spot...

13:9 When the plague of leprosy is in a man...

13:29 (similar in 38 and 40) And when a man or woman hath a plague upon...

13:44 he is a leprous man, he is unclean...

13:45 And the leper in whom the plague is...

Ö¹14:2 This shall be the law of the leper in the day of his cleansing...

There's a clear progression here, where the tzara'at itself moves from being something relatively incidental to the person, to being something all-consuming and completely identified with the person. The identity of the afflicted person becomes increasingly wrapped up in the tzara'at, and there's a fall from being adam (a term of stature and humanity), to ish (man) or ishah (woman) to ish-tzaru'a to tzaru'a to metzora. This is akin to referring to a person as "a fellow with a beard," "a bearded fellow" and finally as "red-beard," where something which began as a peripheral detail of the subject's identity is now the very basis for that identity.

Maimonides, in his Laws of Tzara'at-Induced Impurity 16:10, describes a different progression. He explains tzara'at as a divine warning message, imploring its victim to soul-search. The affliction would start by affecting the house, then furniture, clothing and finally the body itself. Within this progression as well, there's a movement from the periphery to the center of the victim's existence.

It doesn't seem too far-fetched to suggest that the diagnosis and cure of tzara'at parallels the psychoanalytic process. Therapy is designed to take a person who appears well on the surface and probe early experiences to discover unhealthy personality structures; by identifying and accepting them, they can be healed. If they remain under the surface of consciousness, they remain unhealthy. Both of the progressions described - the one in the Torah and the one in Maimonides - describe a process by which one must identify and accept something about him or herself before a healing can begin. Maimonides describes the process of repentance similarly - bring a repressed memory to the forefront of consciousness through confession or vidui and then release it.

One final thought relates to a Midrash that's cited by Rashi, the great medieval commentator. He states that when the Israelites entered the Land of Israel, the homes of the conquered Canaanites were afflicted with tzara'at, so that the Israelites would find treasure that the Canaanites had buried within the walls.

This goes with our psychoanalytic model as well: the purpose of tzara'at is to instigate a process of digging. That process can culminate in the finding of "treasure" buried within the subconscious realms.

Prepared by Rabbi Elli Fischer, Jewish Learning Initiative educator, University of Maryland, College Park Hillel

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Additional commentaries and text studies on Tazria at MyJewishLearning.com.

It is often that Parshat Shemini falls before Pesach, so that our preparations for the holiday often eclipse the difficult passage recounting the death of the sons of Aaron. This year, Yom Hashoah falls during the week of parshat shemini, and the memory of those who suffered the Nazi atrocities is on our minds. The Midrash of Leviticus Rabba tries to make sense of Nadav and Avihu's sudden death. How do they deal with the terse text where God's voice is only a consuming fire? These midrashim try to understand what the "outside fire" was, and they try to understand why the punishment was so severe. Here is an attempt to learn from tragedy with the knowledge that true understanding will certainly be futile.

Look at the verses and see what clues the text gives for the death of Nadav and Avihu, and then see how the midrash dissects the text in order to see what it can glean. There are two midrashim which draw inferences from different places in the text. After drawing your own conclusions of why this happened, see how the midrash reckons with this material.

Leviticus 10:1-20

1 Now Aharon's sons, Nadav and Avihu, took each-man his pan, and, placing fire in them, put smoking-incense on it, and brought-near, before the presence of YHWH, outside fire, such as he had not commanded them.

2 And fire went out from the presence of YHWH and consumed them, so that they died, before the presence of YHWH.
3 Moshe said to Aharon: It is what YHWH spoke (about), saying: Through those permitted-near to me, I will be-proven-holy, before all the people, I will be-accorded-honor! Aharon was silent.

4 Now Moshe called Mishael and Eltzafan, the sons of Uzziel uncle of Aharon, and said to them: Come-near, carry your brothers from in front of the Holy-Shrine to beyond the camp.

5 They came-near and carried them, by their tunics, beyond the camp, as Moshe had spoken.

6 Now Moshe said to Aharon and to Elazar and Itamar his sons: Your heads, do not bare, your garments, you are not to tear, so that you do not die and he be furious with the entire community! Your brothers, the entire House of Israel, are to weep over the burning that YHWH caused-to-burn.

7 And from the entrance to the Tent of Appointment, do not go out, lest you die, for the oil of anointing of YHWH (is) upon you! They did according to the word of Moshe.

8 Now YHWH spoke to Aharon, saying:

9 Wine and intoxicant, do not drink, you and your sons with you, when you enter the Tent of Appointment, so that you do not die? a law for the ages, throughout your generations:

10 and so that there be-separation between the holy and the profane, between the tamei and the pure,

11 and so that (you) might instruct the Children of Israel in all the laws that YHWH spoke to them through the hand of Moshe.

Leviticus Rabba 20:8

Bar Kappara in the name of Rabbi Jeremiah ben Eleazar said: Aaron's sons died on account of four things: 1) for drawing near to the holy place, 2) for offering (the incense), 3) for the strange fire, and 4) for not having taken counsel from each other ' For drawing near,' since they entered into the innermost precincts of the sanctuary. 'For offering,' since they offered a sacrifice which they had not been commanded to offer ' For the outside fire ': they brought in fire from the kitchen. ' And for not having taken counsel from each other,' as it says, "...took each-man his pan" (Lev. 10:1), implying that they acted each on his own initiative, not taking counsel from one another.

Rabbi Jeremiah ben Eleazar said: The death of Aaron's sons is mentioned in four places, and in every one of them their offense is also mentioned. Why all this? To inform you that they were guilty of no other iniquity but this one alone.

Rabbi Eleazar of Modin said: Come and observe what concern was felt by the Holy One, at the death of Aaron's sons, or on every occasion when He mentions their death, He also mentions their offense! Why all this? To acquaint you with the facts, so that people might have no pretext for saying that they had been acting corruptly in secret and that it was on account of this that they died.

Leviticus Rabbah 20:9

Rabbi Mani of She'ab, Rabbi Joshua of Siknin, and Rabbi Johanan in the name of Rabbi Levi said: The sons of Aaron died for four things, in connection with each of which death is mentioned.

1) Because they had drunk wine, and in connection with this death is mentioned, as it says, Wine and intoxicant, do not drink, you and your sons with you, when you enter the Tent of Appointment, so that you do not die?(Leviticus 10:9)

2) Because [while officiating] they lacked the prescribed number of garments, and in connection with this death is mentioned, as it says, They are to be on Aharon and on his sons, whenever they come into the Tent of Appointment or whenever they approach the slaughter-site to attend at the Holy-Shrine, that they do not bear iniquity and die. (Exodus 28:43) What did they lack? The robe, in connection with which death is mentioned, as it says, It is to be (put) on Aharon, for attending, that its sound may be heard whenever he comes into the Holy-Shrine before the presence of YHWH, and whenever he goes out, so that he does not die.(Ibid:35)

3) Because they entered the Sanctuary without washing hands and feet; for it says, "they are to wash their hands and their feet, so that they do not die. (Exodus 30:21), and it also says, When they come into the Tent of Appointment they are to wash with water so that they do not die, (ib. 20).

4) Because they had no children, and in connection with this death is mentioned. Thus it is written, Now Nadav and Avihu died before the presence of YHWH, in the Wilderness of Sinai; sons they did not have, (Num. 3:4)

YOUR MIDRASH NAVIGATOR

1. Compare the two midrashim. What is each midrash trying to prove?

2. Do they condemn or are they sympathetic to Nadav and Avihu?

3. What reasons do they come up with for their punishment?

4. How does their reading resonate with your reading of the text?

Prepared by Rabbi Avi Weinstein.

If the week's events had been less terrible, I probably would have written this Dvar Torah about the end of the Torah portion this week from Leviticus 20: 24 "… You shall posses their land, for I will give it to you to posses, a land flowing with milk and honey" and its relationship to Yom Ha'atzmaut, Israeli Independence Day, which is commemorated on April 24th this year. I believe it is necessary for us instead to take the time to focus on what occurred on April 16th in the Dvar Torah this week. We know too well after bearing witness to the events that took place at Virginia Tech, that, events all too often do not go as planned. The translation for Achrei Mot is "After Death," the very first verse, Leviticus 16:1 And the Lord spoke to Moses after the death of the two sons of Aaron who died…"

Achrei Mot describes the rules for observing Yom Kippur, The Day of Atonement. It describes how to perform the ritual that the High Priest conducts to cleanse the Israelite community of all their sins once a year. This includes taking two goats; one as a sin offering that is sacrificed and the other as a "scape-goat" that has the sins of the people placed on its back and is then sent away from the community into the wilderness. The Torah warns not to copy the practices of the Egyptians and goes on to give a long list of sexual relationships which are prohibited.

Kedoshim begins with a list of basic laws of Torah including those similar to the Ten Commandments. In addition there are ritual and ethical rules which include: leaving food for the poor, treating those with disabilities correctly, loving the stranger as yourself, having honest business transactions. The Torah also gives the requirement of the death penalty in certain cases, and lists further sexual prohibitions. The end of the portion includes a warning not to follow the practices of the people who inhabit the land which they will possess, "a land flowing with milk and honey."

Our tradition is full of stories of things turning out differently than we wished. Many of them come from the Torah Portion we read this week. A midrash from Vayikra Rabba comments on the Torah portion, telling of a father who prepares a wedding party for his son. During the party, the son is bitten by a snake and dies. The father tells his guests, "We are not going to recite the blessing for newlyweds, but rather the mourners' blessing."

One moment life is safe and routine, if not joyous. Suddenly, life is destroyed and we are left wondering why. The immediate human response seems to be to try to figure out how this could have happened. Even when we discover the facts of what caused the tragedy, we are left with a larger question wondering WHY?

Aaron's sons, Nadav and Abihu unexpectedly are killed in Leviticus 10:1 when they approach to give an offering to God in an inauguration ceremony for the priesthood. Jewish tradition from every period of Jewish history is filled with answers to why they were killed. The Torah says they were offering "alien fire" and "drew too close" Rashi interprets it to mean that the sons brought an unauthorized offering and it serves as an effective warning to people against this. Divrei Shaul states that they needed to wait to bring their fire until fire descended from Heaven. Si'ah HaSadeh explains that they were enthusiastic beyond their capabilities. Likutei Yehoshua said it was because they were conceited, thinking themselves to be close to God. Vayikra Rabbah suggests that they were drunk and showed a lack of respect. The Zohar says it is because they were unmarried. It is a struggle every year when this story is read in the Torah to try to figure out what did they do to deserve this? Is it a punishment? Was it preventable? The reality remains that they are dead, and there is no satisfying answer to why young people were killed, though we continue to ask.

The Torah portion follows with an elaborate ritual to perform for Yom Kippur. It is to be performed by Aaron, a father who is in mourning for his sons. This ritual can be compared with the mourning rituals that are created in response to terrible tragedies such as the horrific school shootings that have taken place in the United States and around the world. We offer moments of silence, perform ceremonial name readings, light candles at vigils, gather together, share fond memories to honor the lives of those who were taken from us led. We hope that they will help us heal and bring meaning to what seems random and can rob us of our confidence in the world. May these rituals bring us together in community to heal, help us regain our trust and inspire us to make our world a better place.

Prepared by Lauren Brody-Hyett, Jewish student life coordinator at the University of Pennsylvania Hillel and rabbinical student at the Reconstructionist Rabbinical College.

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Additional commentaries and text studies on Acharei Mot and Kedoshim at MyJewishLearning.com.

This week's Parsha begins with purity laws revolving around the miracle of birth. Often this Parsha falls within the week when Yom Ha'atzmaut is celebrated. The pangs of birth are formidable ? many mothers will attest to that -- but the rewards, if all goes well, are precious beyond measure.

The Midrash Vayikra Rabba on this parsha has many midrashim which recount the miracle of birth. For instance: "Rabbi Simon said: The abdomen of a woman consists of many cavities, many coils, and many bands, so that when she sits in labor, she does not cast the fetus all at once. There is a popular saying: 'When one band is loosened, two bands are loosened.'"

The thinkers who envisioned a return to Zion and laid the philosophical and actual framework for a State of Israel engaged in the pangs of a different birth.

Introduction

A.D. Gordon was a great Zionist thinker. He was considered by many to be the spiritual father of Labor Zionism. He was certainly the one who advanced the cause of Jews returning to farming to reclaim their spiritual essence. As a new dreamer of Zion, Gordon had to envision a new purpose for Jews as Jews. In the following excerpt he grapples with this question, by defining what binds us together.

Read what he says, and see if modern-day Israel reflects his thinking in any way.

A. D. Gordon (1856-1922)

"We are told that it is national sentiment that prevents the Jews from assimilating. But what is this national sentiment? What strange kind of nationality is ours, which is not alive but yet will not die? Wherein lies its strength? We have no country of our own, we have no living national language, but instead a number of vernaculars borrowed from others. Religion? But our religion is on the wane, and it certainly cannot be the answer for those who are not religious. What, then, is that elusive, unique, and persistent force that will not die and will not let us die?

It seems that every one of us can answer this question if he is really himself free of all foreign influences and if he is not ashamed to face the matter squarely and be honest with himself.
That answer is that there is a primal force within every one of us, which is fighting for its own life, which seeks its own realization.

This is our ethnic self, the cosmic element, which combined with the historic element, forms one of the basic ingredients of the personality of each and every one of us. The ethnic self may be described as a peculiar national pattern of mental and physical forces, which affects the personality of every individual member of the ethnic group. It is like the musical scale, which every composer uses in his own way. The ethnic self, to continue the parallel, is like choral singing, in which each individual voice has its own value, but in which the total effect depends on the combination and the relative merit of each individual singer, and in which the value of each singer is enhanced by his ability to sing with the rest of the choir. Jewish life in the Diaspora lacks this cosmic element of national identity; it is sustained by the historic element alone, which keeps us alive and will not let us die, but it cannot provide us with a full national life.

What we have come to find in Palestine is the cosmic element. In the countries of the Galut we are compelled to lead an inanimate existence, lacking in national creativity (and, from the point of view of genuine personality, also lacking in individual creativity).

There we are the dependents of others materially and perhaps even more spiritually. There, our ethnic self is forced into a ruinously constricted and shrunken form; having no living source of spontaneous vitality, it must perforce draw on our past and become ever more desiccated, or it must tap alien sources and become blurred, dissolving in the spirit of its environment."

Your A.D. Gordon Navigator

1. What is the ethnic self that Gordon refers to?

2. Is this a religious or secular idea?

3. How does the ethnic self differ from religious belief?

4. What do you think of Gordon's idea for his time? For our time?

Introduction

Rav Kook was Chief Rabbi of Palestine prior to the founding of the State of Israel. He was well versed in philosophy and science and he was also a poet. His understanding of the centrality of the Land of Israel was part of a religious philosophy which yearned for the messianic redemption. Even though he couches his ideas in religious terms, see if you can find some similarities between Rabbi Kook and A.D. Gordon. Find their common ground and then articulate where they differ.

Rav Kook

Remember, both these men lived prior to World War II. They are dreamers of Zion, riding on the coattails of Theodore Herzl. These dreamers' ideas were part of the mandate and spirit of those who were deigned worthy to implement the dream into a reality. It was the ideas of Gordon which provided Ben Gurion with the context for his vision, as it was the vision of Rav Kook which made a secular movement "kosher" for religious sensibilities. Let's imagine these two at a dinner table together. Would they have anything in common? What might they have spoken about?

Rabbi Abraham Isaac HaCohen Kook, (1865-1935)

"In the holy land man's imagination is lucid and clear, clean and pure, capable of receiving the revelation of Divine Truth and of expressing in life the sublime meaning of the ideal of the sovereignty of holiness; there, the mind is prepared to understand the light of prophecy and to be illumined by the radiance of the Holy Spirit. In gentile lands the imagination is dim, clouded with darkness, and shadowed with unholiness, and it cannot serve as the vessel for the outpouring of the Divine Light, as it raises itself beyond the lowness and narrowness of the universe. Because reason and imagination are interwoven and interact with each other, even reason cannot shine in its truest glory outside the Holy Land.

DEEP IN THE HEART of every Jew, in its purest and holiest recesses, there blazes the fire of Israel. There can be no mistaking its demands for an organic and indivisible bond between life and all of God's commandments; for the pouring of the spirit of the Lord, the spirit of Israel which completely permeates the soul of the Jew, into all the vessels which were created for this particular purpose; and for expressing the word of Israel fully and precisely in the realms of action and ideas.

In the hearts of our saints, this fire is constantly blazing up with tongues of holy flame. Like the fire on the altar of the Temple, it is burning unceasingly, with a steady flame, in the collective heart of our people. Hidden away in the deepest recesses of their souls, it exists even among the backsliders and sinners of Israel. Within the Jewish people as a whole, this is the living source of its desire for freedom, of its longing for a life worthy of the name for man and community, of its hope for redemption of the striving toward a full, uncontradictory, and unbounded Jewish life.

This is the meaning of the Jew's undying love for Eretz Israel -- the Land of Holiness, the Land of God -- in which all of the Divine commandments are realized in their perfect form. This urge to unfold to the world the nature of God, to raise one's head in His Name in order to proclaim His greatness in its real dimensions affects all souls, for all desire to become as one with Him and to partake of the bliss of His life.

This yearning for a true life, for one that is fashioned by all the commandments of the Torah and illumined by all its uplifting splendor, is the source of the courage which moves the Jew to affirm, before all the world, his loyalty to the heritage of his people, to the preservation of its identity and values, and to the upholding of its faith and vision.

Strengthening of Judaism in the Diaspora can come only from a deepened attachment to Eretz Israel. The hope for the return to the Holy Land is the continuing, source of the distinctive nature of Judaism. The hope for the redemption is the force that sustains Judaism in the Diaspora; the Judaism of Eretz Israel is the very Redemption.

Jewish original creativity whether in the realm of ideas or in the arena of daily life and action, is impossible except in Eretz Israel. On the other hand, whatever the Jewish people creates in Eretz Israel assimilates the universal into characteristic and unique Jewish form, to the great benefit of the Jewish people and of the world."

Mixed in with all the dos and don'ts of the Torah are sporadic declarations of how we are supposed to be. This parsha enjoins us to be "Kedoshim" which an impoverished English language translates as "holy".

The parsha begins "...Kedoshim are you to be, for Kadosh am I the Lord your God." Immediately following this declaration we are given obligations which have already become familiar: being awe struck of parents, keeping shabbat, not making idols, no leftovers from certain sacrifices, leaving the corners of the field, no stealing, lying or cheating, no gossip, no slander, no grudges, no vengeance etc.

One way to read this passage is to assume that if we do all the enumerated commandments, then we will be considered "Kedoshim". It would then be our task to define what "Kadosh" is by seeing what all these commandments had in common. Or, one may say that all these mitzvot must have an informing value and that is to be Kadosh. Implicit in this understanding is the possibility that one could perform the commandments in a fashion that would not be Kadosh at all.

Nachmanides understands that to be Kadosh is to be aware that decent behavior cannot ultimately be legislated. In fact, he says a person can still be a licentious character and still be monogamous, you could be a kosher glutton, or a kosher drunk, or as he says, "a sleezebag with the Torah's permission." The parsha opens with an admission. Unscrupulous desires can always find a way to obey the law's letter while violating the spirit.

A rule book alone will not bring one to the pathway of goodness anymore than a world without rules will. The rules need to be tempered with the informing values. Here, the Torah tells us to be Kadosh and Nachmanides understands that to mean that we should partake from the world with restraint. We should engage in the physical and the material, but we should also distance ourselves from it, just as God does.

By restraining our own desires, we also make room for others. God gives us room to choose, to create and to falter. The Holy One is the provider of sacred opportunity and also the provider of enough rope with which to hang ourselves. To imitate God by being Kadosh is to never lose sight of the informing values that the rules were created to promote.

For those who reckon with the commandments as a guidepost in their lives, there is one question which should accompany each mitzvah performed. "How can I perform this task in a way that makes me more Kadosh?" Without "Kedusha", a mitzvah is an empty vessel, from which no one may drink.

Prepared by Rabbi Avi Weinstein, The Bronfman Youth Fellowships in Israel

Parshot Tazria and Metzorah

In Jewish tradition, childbirth, leprosy, discharges, and assorted unseemly substances threaten an individual's purity and, consequently, his or her holiness. The verses within Tazria and Metzora detail ways to handle these impurities. Elaborate procedures ritualize the transformation from someone who is "tameh" (impure) to someone who is "tahor" (pure). Opening up to the very beginning of parshat Metzora, let's look at some of the ingredients and rituals involved in one of the purification processes. Perhaps some of these odd ingredients can provide insight into the crimes that cause someone to be punished with leprosy in the first place.

Yayikra/Leviticus 14:1-9

1 The LORD spoke to Moses, saying: 2 This shall be the ritual for a leper at the time that he is to be cleansed. When it has been reported to the priest, 3 the priest shall go outside the camp. If the priest sees that the leper has been healed of his scaly affection, 4 the priest shall order two live clean birds, cedar wood, crimson stuff, and hyssop to be brought for him who is to be cleansed. 5 The priest shall order one of the birds slaughtered over fresh water in an earthen vessel; 6 and he shall take the live bird, along with the cedar wood, the crimson stuff, and the hyssop, and dip them together with the live bird in the blood of the bird that was slaughtered over the fresh water. 7 He shall then sprinkle it seven times on him who is to be cleansed of the eruption and cleanse him; and he shall set the live bird free in the open country. 8 The one to be cleansed shall wash his clothes, shave off all his hair, and bathe in water; then he shall be clean. After that he may enter the camp, but he must remain outside his tent seven days. 9 On the seventh day he shall shave off all his hair-of head, beard, and eyebrows. When he has shaved off all his hair, he shall wash his clothes and bathe his body in water; then he shall be clean. [The procedure concludes with the priest offering two male lambs as a sacrifice.]

Your Torah Navigator

1. Where is the "metzora" (the leper) while he undergoes the "scaly affection"?

2. Name all of the ingredients in the priest's healing concoction. Which components strike you as particularly unusual?

3. What could be the significance of including both the wood of cedar - a tall tree - and hyssop - an herb that grows close to the ground?

4. Once the live bird has been set free, how does the "metzora" change his own location?

5. What final step ensures that the "metzora" is clean?

A Word

Rashi is highly helpful when trying to tackle the question of why certain ingredients would have been included in the purification rite of the leper. A close look at the ingredients named in verse 4 will show how the text views the nature of leprosy. In the case of this disease, there is a direct correlation between certain behaviors before the onset of leprosy and the remedies to cleanse the individual afterwards.

First, we will address the matter of the "two live clean birds." Rashi says, "Since afflictions come about because of malicious talk, which is an act of verbal twittering, therefore, there was required for [the sufferer's] purification, birds that constantly twitter with chirping of sound." Rashi here invokes the crime of "lashon hara" or malicious speech. According to the Jerusalem Talmud, Peah 4a-b, the crime of "lashon hara" is the equivalent of idolatry, licentiousness, and murder COMBINED. Soiling someone else's reputation by spreading such speech is a high crime; the punishment of leprosy fits this crime by spreading sores over the body of the gossiper. Just as gossip infects and taints the lives of its subjects, so does leprosy infect and taint the gossiper. Thus the purification rite must include twittering birds to symbolize the leper's missteps.

Next: the matter of the cedar wood. Rashi explains this ingredient by saying, "Because afflictions come because of haughtiness." As such, including such a high, lovely tree in the mixture will remind the leper that he thought highly of himself before he was punished with his disease. In this context, cedars become associated with arrogance. This goes against the grain of the typically positive cedar imagery in Jewish tradition. Psalm 92:13, for example, declares, "The righteous bloom like a date-palm; they thrive like a cedar in Lebanon." In the Song of Songs, the lover is described with the breathless words, "He is majestic as Lebanon, Stately as the cedars" (5:15). In Genesis Rabbah 15, Rabbi Samuel bar Nahman names cedars as among the seven best "sturdy trees" to be found. Ironically, Rashi plays on these valences to show exactly how an individual should NOT conduct himself. Beyond serving as a reminder of haughtiness, the cedar's presence could also be interpreted as showing the leper the heights he might aspire to regain once he is cleansed of his impurities.

The final two components, crimson stuff and hyssop, can be interpreted together as symbols of ultimate lowliness. Rashi says, "What is his remedy, that he should be cured? He should lower himself from his arrogance like a worm and like hyssop." How does Rashi get from "crimson stuff" to a worm? Pouncing on the double meaning of "tola'at," which means dyed wool, Rashi reminds us that "tola'at" can also mean "worm." Thus, the crimson piece of wool stands for the humble worm, perhaps the creature most opposite to the noble cedar. Hyssop, too, is a low plant that grows close to the ground.

Do these ingredients really comprise the remedy to purify and cure a leper, transforming him from "tameh" to "tahor"? If anything, Rashi says, these items - twittering birds, cedar wood, crimson wool, and hyssop - will remind the leper of the behaviors that got him in trouble in the first place. These ingredients also point to the way to "come clean." Once this person resolves to stop telling tales, the sores that spread the tale of the sinner's disease will truly disappear. Only by eliminating his own haughtiness can the individual stand as tall as a cedar. Only by remaining as grounded as a worm or a plant can the individual become fit to re-enter the camp.

In the bigger picture of what this seemingly bizarre ritual means: It takes more than shaving one's hair and bathing several times for a former leper to re-enter the camp and, consequently, Israelite society. The external cleansing must be accompanied by an internal cleansing; the physical healing can only occur in tandem with a spiritual accounting. As the purification ritual requires the priest to release one of the live birds back to freedom in the great outdoors, the leper can simultaneously move from the very same outdoors back into the camp, where elaborate codes of purity and behavior rule the roost.

Prepared by Hannah Graham, Iyyun Fellow, Schusterman International Center.

Parshat Kedoshim begins with the following verse:

"Speak to the entire community of the Children of Israel, and say to them: Holy are you to be Israel" (Leviticus 19:1)

The Midrash in Leviticus Rabba makes a connection between the opening verses of the Parsha with the Ten Commandments. It sees these verses as an expansion of the Ten Commandments.

What prompted this Parsha to be expressed to the entire community? Why didn't it just say "speak to the children of Israel" like the other portions?

The entire community of Israel is included because all the Ten Commandments are included in this portion. How so?

In the Ten Commandments it is written: "I am YHWH your God." In our portion it is written, "I am YHWH your God."

In the Ten Commandments it is written: "You will not have any other gods before you." Here it is written: "Do not turn-your-faces to no-gods, and molten gods you are not to make yourselves."

In the Ten Commandments it is written: "Do not take YHWH's Name in vain." Here it is written, "You are not to swear by my name falsely, thus profaning the name of your God."

In the Ten Commandments it is written: "Keep the Sabbath." Here it is written, "My Sabbaths you are to keep..."

In the Ten Commandments it is written, "Honor your father and mother." Here it is written, "Each-man his mother and his father you are to hold-in-awe."

In the Ten Commandments it is written, "You shall not murder" and here it is written: "You are not to stand by the blood of your neighbor."

In the Ten Commandments it is written, "Do not commit adultery." Here it is written, "yes death to the adulterer and the adulteress..." (This verse appears in Leviticus 20:10)

In the Ten Commandments it is written, "Do not steal" and here it is written, "You are not to steal."

In the Ten Commandments it is written, "You are not to testify against your fellow falsely" and here it is written, "You are not to traffic in slander among your kinspeople."

In the Ten Commandments it is written, "Do not covet." Here it is written, "You are not to withhold property from your neighbor, you are not to commit robbery."

So you see that all Ten Commandments are included in this portion, and that is why it is written that "the entire community of Israel" must hear this.

Your Midrash Navigator
1. Why is it necessary for the Midrash to make this connection between the Ten Commandments and these verses?
2. How do these verses embellish the Ten Commandments?

A Word
Many commentators say the reason the Ten Commandments are singled out is that they embody the whole Torah. Somehow, the whole Torah is connected in the connections made between these two sections of the Torah. It introduces the notion that the Ten Commandments are a code that requires interpretation. The rabbis see that interpretation begin late in the Torah itself, modeling how they too must seize meaning by looking for clues from the words themselves.

It also implies that the whole Torah is subsumed under the scriptural exhortation, "You shall be holy."

This D'var Torah was prepared by Michelle Wasserman, a member of Hillel's 1999/2000 Board of Directors and a student at the University of California, San Diego. It was initially presented at the 2000 Schusterman Hillel International Lay Leadership Conference.


"Sons of High Priest Commit Minor Infraction. Internally Burn to Death: External Bodies Left Untouched." It reads like a headline for the National Enquirer. Even for the Torah the deaths of Aaron's sons Nadav and Avihu in this week's parasha, Shemini, are sensational. Their crime: they decide to make an incense offering to God at an inappropriate time, presenting "alien fire" to God. Their punishment: God sends flames up their noses and burns them to death. God explains his actions by saying ambiguously, "I will be sanctified through those who are nearest Me, thus I will be honored before the entire people." Aaron remains silent. Their cousins remove their tunics and their bodies, untouched by the flames; Aaron and his sons are forbidden to mourn.

On a literal level these deaths are hard to explain. These are not common men attempting to destroy the hierarchy of the priesthood; these are Aaron's sons. They are actually fulfilling one of their duties, the daily offering of incense. Their deaths are violent and painful, and God seems to say that through this violence he has been honored. If this is the case, sanctification from God is a dangerous thing.

In Judaism, God is both merciful and wrathful, but always just. Accordingly sages throughout the ages have tried to rationalize these seemingly empty deaths. The sin was bringing "alien fire" before God. Midrash claims that this offering came as the last in a series of selfish acts. The pride involved in the act made the offering alien. There is another suggestion that perhaps the brothers were intoxicated, making the offering an abomination to God, and leading into the next section of the portion that forbids the drinking of alcohol before entering the Tabernacle.

Of all the inconsistencies in the portion, the greatest is the preservation of the brothers' bodies. After their strange demise, the parasha relates how the cousins of Nadav and Avihu "carried them by their tunics to the outside of the camp." The fire did not burn their clothing or, as Midrash claims, their bodies.

Oftentimes what does not make sense on a literal level does make sense on a metaphorical level. This part of the Torah portion leads to a more metaphorical interpretation. Fire is a universal symbol for passion. Fire appears in two contexts in this story: first as the fire the brothers send up to God and second as the fire that consumes them on the inside. The passion that burns inside of these two men is a divine one, centered on God. Divine passion both fills them and kills them. They first, however, offer their own fire up to God. This fire is "alien," or alienating. The two brothers separate themselves from the rest of the people and concentrate their passions on God. The brothers cultivate private passion for God, one that eventually consumes them.

Looking to the context of the whole Torah portion, in Shemini God establishes precedent for the Israelites. The Tabernacle is set up, the rules for priests explained and the laws of Kashrut delineated. Priests and sacrifices served an important communal purpose for the Israelites. Through sacrifice the Israelites atoned for both individual and societal sins, assuring the smooth function of the society. There is no room in such a system for Priests consumed with a private passion for God. The Priestly role cannot be separated from the people. God's ambiguous comment explains this, and makes Nadav and Avihu negative examples of Priestly behavior. God says "I will be sanctified through those who are nearest me, thus I will be honored before the entire people." Those nearest to God, the Priests, must sanctify God only in the communal context. They cannot alienate themselves and offer God a passion that separates them from the community. Priests must function as spiritual intermediaries, and through this action God will have honor They must teach the Israelites to connect to their God and to their heritage, and in doing so they unite the entire community and glorify God.

Nadav and Avihu failed by removing themselves from the important community capacity as teachers and role models. The Jewish people still need leaders to connect the past with the present and to serve as positive examples of behavior.

In a few moments Richard Joel will speak about the Renaissance Covenant that is creating a new burst of Jewish life and Jewish consciousness across campuses and the Jewish community. This process of renaissance involves claiming our Jewishness with both pride and a pluralistic attitude. I would like to add another element to these principles, however. Jewish renaissance among college students cannot happen without Jewish role models.

It is not enough to create programming that gives students a sense of history. Students live in campuses among their peers. Hillel staff members may be the only Jewish adult role models in their lives. Everyone in this room has found a Jewish identity and has discovered a way to live both secularly and Jewishly and to contribute to the greater community. Everyone in this room gives generously to Jewish students. There is a difference between an active and a passive presence, however. Students are the future Jewish leaders; they need to know what the present ones look like.

Students wish to have careers and work with the Jewish community, what could be more helpful than meeting someone who can talk to them about doing both? Students have career aspirations, intellectual goals, what could be more useful than an internship or a shadowing opportunity? In some way offer students a connection. All of you give so much to make sure that the Jewish campus community exists, but we need to add the element of continuity.

Lay leaders should know student leaders. As a student I encourage you to meet those you work for.
-Have dinner with a student.
-Have a professional workshop or discussion.
-Hold a planning meeting between the two groups of leaders so that the students get to participate in the continuity of their campus communities.
-Open not just your schedules for meetings, but also your lives.

Alienation both in the Torah and today destroys continuity and community. We cannot afford to alienate students from Jewish role models, not if we want the principles of Jewish renaissance to truly take hold.

Parshat Kedoshim begins by outlining one of the most important tasks in the Torah without specifically defining what it is. The Lord spoke to Moses, saying: "Speak to the whole Israelite community and say to them: You shall be holy (Kedoshim), for I, the Lord your God, am holy (Kadosh)." (Leviticus 19:1-2)

Although one could infer that to follow all of the commandments of the Torah would be considered holy, God makes a point to specifically mention that man should live his life as God would. What does this mean? What are God's expectations when he commands such a vague, yet powerful law? The answer lies in our everyday lives and our commitment to the Jewish people.

God was demanding that we live our lives as He would, to do everything, even the small things, correctly. This is even more evident by the notion that we are created in God's image, b'tzelem Elokim. We are given the freedom to make our own decisions, and because of this, we should live our lives in exemplary ways. To be holy, one does not need to simply follow the commandments of the Torah; rather, one must lead his or her life as though he or she is setting an example for everyone else to follow. It is our responsibility to set this example for future Jewish generations to follow, giving them a core of values to build their own lives on. This is what God meant when he spoke of being holy as He is holy.

Kedusha (holiness) can really only be achieved through self-control, especially during times when the temptation to forget the small things is at its greatest. Such is the temptation in our lives where we work with new generations of students on our campuses to help inspire them to pursue their own Jewish journeys of kedusha and righteousness. Our focus as Hillel professionals must include the small things, including what it takes to help our students understand that it's OK to stand up and proclaim "I am Jewish," even when the easy thing to do is turn the other cheek.

We must lead by example. We must show our students that being Jewish is more than merely following all of the commandments of the Torah - it is a feeling, a pride, a sense of urgency to do right even when no one is watching. We must teach these students to understand the importance of maintaining a Jewish identity, so that we help ensure the future of the Jewish people.

It is our responsibility and our challenge to help students understand the importance of being holy as God is holy. As Jewish professionals, we follow God's commandment every day in the work we do and the lives we inspire. Doing campus work is holy, preserving a faith is holy, and making a choice to be Jewish when the temptation is to turn the other way certainly is holy.

Prepared by Jeffrey Lazor, program director, Michigan State University Hillel.

Learn More
Additional commentaries and text studies on Kedoshim at MyJewishLearning.com.

Leviticus 19:1-12
1. YHWH spoke to Moshe, saying:
2. Speak to the entire community of the Children of Israel, and say to them: Holy are you to be, for holy am I, YHWH your God!
3. Each-man his mother and his father you are to hold-in-awe, and my Sabbaths you are to keep: I am YHWH your God!
4. Do not turn-your-faces to no-gods, and molten gods you are not to make yourselves, I am YHWH your God!
5. Now when you slaughter a slaughter-offering of shalom to YHWH, for your being-accepted you are to slaughter it.
6. At the time of your slaughtering it, it is to be eaten, and on the morrow (as well),but what remains by the third day is to be burned in fire.
7. Should it be eaten, yes, eaten on the third day, it is tainted-meat, it will not be accepted;
8. those who eat it his iniquity must he bear, for the holy-offering of YHWH he has profaned, cut off shall that person be from his kinspeople!
9. Now when you harvest the harvest of your land, you are not to finish (to the) edge of your field in harvesting, the full-gathering of your harvest you are not to gather;
10. your vineyard you are not to glean, the break-off of your vineyard you are not to gather - rather, for the afflicted and for the sojourner you are to leave them, I am YHWH your God!
11. You are not to steal, you are not to lie, you are not to deal-falsely, each-man with his fellow!
12. You are not to swear by my name falsely, thus profaning the name of your God? I am YHWH!

Your Kedoshim Navigator
1. What is the reason that we are required to be holy?
2. What does holy, kadosh mean?
3. List the things that a holy people are supposed to do.
4. How do these relate to each other?
5. What does keeping the Sabbath have to do with honoring one?s parents?

The word Kadosh can be defined as distinct. There are two aspects to this distinctness. One is to be different, separate for its own sake. Our identity should be a distinct one. We should have our own customs and our own rituals as Jews. Equally important, however, is our mandate to be distinct examples for how this world is to be sanctified.

To model the best of human behavior is a kedusha that distinguishes the individual by leading humanity to Godliness. This is our responsibility, not our right. It should be viewed as humbling and daunting because the potential for not measuring up is formidable.

Prepared by Rabbi Avi Weinstein, director, Joseph Meyerhoff Center for Jewish Learning.

This week we have the privilege and opportunity of a double Torah portion from the book of Vayikra (Leviticus). Due to various elements of the Jewish calendar, we read two Torah portions this week, Acharei Mot and Kedoshim. Literally, Acharei Mot means "after death" and Kedoshim means "holiness."

Acharei Mot, the first of the two portions, refers to the death of Aaron's sons, Nadab and Abihu, the process for Aaron to enter the Holy of Holies, the rituals of a sin offering and Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement. Acharei Mot concludes with a listing of prohibited sexual relationships.

Kedoshim opens with some of the most famous words in the Torah: "Kedoshim tihyu, ki ani Adoshem Elokeichem" (you shall be holy, for I, the Lord your God am holy). God tells Moses to speak these words "el kol-adat b'nai Yisrael" (to the whole Israelite community). The commentary Sifra teaches that "the whole Israelite community" accentuates the importance of these basic laws of behavior. God does not tell Moses to simply say these words to the people of Israel, as God does at many other points within the Torah. Rather, everyone is to be included: young and old, men and women, infirm and well, leader and participant. Specific examples and illuminations of holiness then follow, most of them of an ethical nature. Often called the Holiness Code, they include:

• Leaving the corners of the field unharvested, providing for the hungry in the community. (Leviticus 19:9-10)
• Dealing honestly in personal and business matters and paying employees in a timely manner. (Leviticus 19:11, 13, 35, 36)
• Respecting physical differences, including not taking advantage of one who is blind or deaf. (Leviticus 19:14)
• Making fair decisions that neither show undue deference to the rich nor favoritism of the poor. (Leviticus 19:15)
• Interacting with people in respectful, tolerant, accepting ways. (Leviticus 19:16-18)
• Loving your neighbor as yourself. (Leviticus 19:18)
• Showing respect to elders. (Leviticus 19:32)
• Treating the people around you, whether friend or stranger, with respect, loving each one as yourself. (Leviticus 19:34)

Holiness can be present within many of the moments in our lives, from the act of greeting each person with a smile, to making business decisions that honor the employee, customer and investor, to doing school work with integrity. Such a way of looking at the world may, at first blush, seem like an unattainable goal. However, when we look at our daily lives as moments of opportunity, we can resonate and express the ideas at the heart of the Torah text - each one of us has a divine spark. Stoking the embers of that divine spark within us and within others is at the core of Judaism.

The famous rabbi Hillel, for whom our organization is named, once had a non-Jew challenge him on this core principle. The Talmud tractate Shabbat (page 31a) tells us of a non-Jew who came to Hillel's door and promised, "I will convert to Judaism if you can teach me the whole Torah while I stand on one foot." Rabbi Hillel's response was immediate. He said, "What is hateful to you, do not do to your neighbor. That is the whole Torah. All the rest is commentary, now go and learn it." Challenged to boil down Judaism to its essence, Hillel spoke not of God, not of Israel, not of Shabbat, but of the importance of how we treat one another. Certainly, God, Israel, Shabbat and other laws are important, but when we begin from a place of the holy spark within, we are well on the way to living a meaningful Jewish life.

Both Torah portions this week resonate with holiness. We hear the pain of Aaron and his family when his sons step away from that holiness; we learn about the rituals of forgiveness and repair; we internalize that holiness can be present in our intimate lives; and we make holiness a part of how we understand ourselves, our community and our world. God gives us the present of holiness and Judaism helps us to contextualize it. Holiness resides in our tzedek (righteous) actions for ourselves and others, in our religious lives and in our cultural and familiar traditions. Holiness helps us be distinctly Jewish and universally human. May holiness emanate from within during this week and all weeks to come.

Prepared by Amy Greenbaum, executive director, Hillel Foundation at Miami University

Learn More
Additional commentaries and text studies on Acharei Mot and Kedoshim at MyJewishLearning.com.

Parashat Metzora addresses the treatment of a house that is plagued by a growth of some sort. At first we may find it difficult to relate to this text. Yet we can use it as a metaphor for our own lives. First a priest inspects the house. If he determines that it has a malignant disease, the house is quarantined, the stones are replaced, and the walls are scraped and replastered. If the plague does not reappear, the house is declared "clean." A purification ceremony takes place. If the plague reappears, the house is torn down.

Leviticus 14:34-40
"When you enter the land of Canaan that I give you as a possession, and I inflict an eruptive plague upon a house in the land you possess, there shall come the one whose house it is and report to the priest, saying, (Something) like a plague has been seen by me on the house!

The priest is to command that the house be cleaned before the priest enters to look at the plague, so that nothing that is in the house becomes unclean; after that the priest may enter to look at the house.

...When the priest returns on the seventh day, and he looks, and here: the affliction has spread on the walls of the house, the priest is to command that they pull out the stones on which the affliction is and throw them outside the city, into an unclean place."

Your Leviticus Navigator
1. What is this plague that is on the house?
2. What does the priest command the owner of the house to do?
3. If the plague remains after seven days, what does the owner of the house do?
4. Have you ever experienced a sickness or a problem that seemed to take over every part of your life?
5. Have you ever cleaned something so well, that you must take it apart in order to clean it thoroughly?

Rashi
(in Leviticus Rabba 17:6 and Sifra) on "I inflict an eruptive plague":

This was an announcement to them that these plagues would come upon them because the Amorites concealed treasures of gold in the walls of their houses during the whole 40 years the Israelites were in the wilderness in order that they might not possess them when they conquered Palestine, and in consequence of the plague they (the Israelites) would pull down the house and discover that God is conveying good news to the people through the plague.

Your Rashi Navigator
1. According to Rashi, what will the Israelites find when they tear down the walls of their houses?
2. Who put these treasures of gold in the houses?
3. What does God have to do with it?
4. Is it possible to find treasures amidst moments of weakness?

A Word
Each of us experiences moments like the above, in which our lives seem to come crashing down. Whether it comes from hearing bad news, learning of illness in ourselves or a loved one, or experiencing a setback in our personal or professional lives, each of us has, at times, found a plague in our house. As we begin to pull out the stones on the walls of our house, it is possible to find treasures of gold within our walls. Maybe it is the strength we find in ourselves. Perhaps it is the presence of friends or loved ones to comfort us. Judaism teaches us that it is our job to find these hidden treasures, even in moments of our greatest weakness. May each of us find gold within our walls.

Rabbi Andrea Lerner, Midwest Director for Hillel's Joseph Meyerhoff Center for Jewish Learning and Campus Rabbi, University of Wisconsin.

YHWH spoke to Moshe, saying:

Speak to the entire community of the Children of Israel, and say to them:

Holy are you to be, for holy am I, YHWH your God!

Each-man his mother and his father you are to hold-in-awe, and my Sabbaths you are to keep: I am YHWH your God!

Do not turn-your-faces to no-gods, and molten gods you are not to make yourselves, I am YHWH your God!

Now when you slaughter a slaughter-offering of shalom to YHWH, for your being-accepted you are to slaughter it. At the time of your slaughtering it, it is to be eaten, and on the morrow (as well), but what remains by the third day is to be burned in fire. Should it be eaten, yes, eaten on the third day, it is tainted-meat, it will not be accepted; those who eat it his iniquity must he bear, for the holy-offering of YHWH he has profaned, cut off shall that person be from his kinspeople!

Now when you harvest the harvest of your land, you are not to finish (to the) edge of your field in harvesting, the full-gathering of your harvest you are not to gather; your vineyard you are not to glean, the break-off of your vineyard you are not to gather - rather, for the afflicted and for the sojourner you are to leave them, I am YHWH your God!

You are not to steal, you are not to lie, you are not to deal-falsely, each-man with his fellow!

You are not to swear by my name falsely, thus profaning the name of your God-I am YHWH!

Your Kedoshim Navigator

1. What is the reason that we are required to be holy?

2. In this context, what does holy, kadosh mean?

3. List the things that a holy people are supposed to do.

4. How do these relate to each other?

5. What does keeping the Sabbath have to do with honoring one's parents?

Rashi on Holy Shall You Be. "You should stay away from illicit sexual behavior and from sin, for wherever you find prohibitions against licentious behavior you find holiness."

Your Rashi Navigator

1. How does Rashi define holiness?

2. How would you define illicit sexual behavior?

3. What does it have to do with being holy?

Nachmanides on the same verse "You should stay away from illicit sexual behavior and from sin, for wherever you find prohibitions against licentious behavior you find holiness." This is what Rashi thinks.

An early midrash makes the claim that you should be "saintly" in all matters. As it says, "Just as I am holy, so you too shall be holy--just as I distance myself so you too should distance yourself."

This I think should be interpreted in a more general sense. Since "distancing one's self from that which is sinful is not limited to sexual activities. Remember that the principals of the Talmud are called "Pharisees" which means those who distance themselves".

Being holy means how one approaches that which is permitted to him. The Torah permitted one to eat meat and drink wine as well as to have sexual relations with a husband or wife, but one could fulfill this requirement and still behave in an unseemly way with one's spouse -- which would technically be permitted--or one could be a glutton with kosher meat and kosher wine. He would boast that everything he does, the Torah allows, thus being a "sleazebag" with the Torah's permission.

Your Nachmanides Navigator

1. How does Nachmanides differ from Rashi?

2. According to the Ramban, what does Holiness mean?

3. Can this behavior be legislated?

A Word

Rashi understands that control of sexual urges is the litmus test for being kadosh. He sees this verse not as a beginning of a new chapter, but as the last line of the previous one, which ends with a list of prohibited sexual activities. Irrespective of how one feels regarding what should and shouldn't be on this list, the idea that sexual intimacy requires kedusha is central to Jewish consciousness and thus the word kiddushin (sanctification) is what we call the ceremony that transforms this activity from a primal urge into a sacred act.

Nachmanides disagrees. He argues that the Torah does not need to teach us the obvious. The verse "Holy shall you be..." is teaching us that it is not enough to follow the rules. Holiness itself cannot be legislated, only a framework can be legislated which still can be manipulated and abused by those who wish to. The purpose of being holy is not relegated to sexual matters but pertains to all acts of desire.

It is not enough to do that which is permitted, it is up to us to sanctify our lives by carrying this consciousness, this attitude that our responsibility doesn't end with the fulfillment of the letter of the law. The law was inscribed for a purpose, to make a holy people and that cannot be forced through the rule of law, but through the hearts and souls and attitudes of the people who choose to follow it.

Leviticus 9:1-11:47, Haftarah ll, Samuel 6:1-7:17

Kashrut, the Jewish dietary laws, have evolved through history into a complex set of gastronomical do's and don't's. However in the Torah they fall into three basic guidelines: Do not consume blood, do not mix milk and meat, and eat only the permitted animals. This third area, permitted (and forbidden) animals, are described in this week's portion. The Torah divides animals in to three categories: land animals, water creatures, and birds. (Insects are mentioned, too, but that is another discussion.) Animals permitted to be eaten are "kasher" or clean. This term does not appear in the Torah itself, but is used for this meaning in the Talmud, which we continue to use today. Our portion does call forbidden animals "tameh" or "unclean" and refers to eating them as "sheketz" or an "abomination." The Tora does not give reasons why certain animals are permitted and others are not, and possible reasons have been suggested throughout the ages. A closer look at each category of animal will help us consider some reasons ourselves.

Clean and Unclean Land Creatures

11:1 And the Lord spoke to Moses and Aaron, saying to them,
11:2 "Tell the Israelites, 'This is the kind of creature you may eat from among all the animals that are on the land.
11:3 Any that divides the hoof - that completely splits the hooves in two - and that also chews the cud among the animals, you may eat.
11:4 However, these you must not eat from among those that chew the cud and that divide the hoof: the camel, because it chews the cud but there is no dividing the hoof; it is unclean to you.
11:5 The rock badger, because it chews the cud but does not divide the hoof; it is unclean to you.
11:6 The hare, because it chews the cud but does not divide the hoof; it is unclean to you.
11:7 The pig, because it divides the hoof-completely splits the hoof in two-but does not chew the cud; it is unclean to you.
11:8 You must not eat from their meat and you must not touch their carcass; they are unclean to you.

Your Land Creature Navigator

1. Chewing cud is a digestive process of chewing, swallowing, regurgitating to chew some more and so on, until the food is broken down enough to be easily digested by the animal's body. Looking at the list of forbidden cud-chewers, what kind of foods do you think they consume?
2. The only split-hoof animal listed is a pig, which is forbidden since it does not chew its cud. Can you think of other split-hoof animals? What kind of foods do you think they consume?
3. With that in mind, what kind of foods do you think permitted animals that chew cud and have a split hoof consume?

Clean and Unclean Water Creatures

11:9 "'These you can eat from all creatures that are in the water: any creatures in the water that have both fins and scales, whether in the sea or in the streams, you may eat.
11:10 But any creatures that do not have both fins and scales, whether in the seas or in the streams, from all the swarming things of the water and from all the living creatures that are in the water, are detestable to you.
11:11 Since they are detestable to you, you must not eat their meat and their carcass you must detest.
11:12 Any creature in the water that does not have both fins and scales is detestable to you.

Your Water Creature Navigator

1. Think about sea creatures. Can you think of types that have both fins and scales? Do you know what they generally eat?
2. Of the sea creatures that lack fins, scales or both, what do they generally eat?

Clean and Unclean Birds

11:13 "'These you are to detest from among the birds-they must not be eaten, because they are detestable: the griffon vulture, the bearded vulture, the black vulture,
11:14 the kite, the buzzard of any kind,
11:15 every kind of crow,
11:16 the eagle owl, the short-eared owl, the long-eared owl, the hawk of any kind,
11:17 the little owl, the cormorant, the screech owl,
11:18 the white owl, the scops owl, the osprey,
11:19 the stork, the heron of any kind, the hoopoe, and the bat.

Your Bird Navigator

1. What is different about this list than the other two?
2. What do these listed birds tend to eat?
3. What do birds that are not listed tend to eat?
4. Why do you think bats, which are mammals, are listed here?

A Word

Rabbi/Professor Baruch Levine asserts that this categorization serves a specific ethical purpose for we human meat-eaters: it is meant to help keep us civilized. He notes that all of the permitted land animals are herbivores, i.e. vegetarians, and unlike the pig for example, are discerning of what they eat. Forbidden animals tend to be hunters like wolves or carrion-eaters, like jackals. Fish with both fins and scales are by and large also consumers of plants and plankton, while those that do not meet these criteria are either hunters, like sharks, or bottom-feeders, like lobster. The bird group is distinct because it lists only specifically forbidden birds which are all hunters or carrion-eaters, and therefore it assumes by omission that all other birds are permitted to be eaten. These permitted birds tend to be herbivorous fowl and water fowl or other types of "tame" birds. Therefore, we are permitted only animals that do not eat other animals! Rabbi Levine surmises that this distinction is meant to direct us towards a more humane level of animal for consumption, and that we will better control our animal instincts by consuming animals that appear to control their own. After all, we were all originally commanded to be vegetarians and live in peace with other animals (Gen. 1:27-31). God only permits us to eat meat after the flood (Gen. 9:2-4), with the assumption that we could not stop ourselves from doing so even when commanded to do so because we are "evil from youth," i.e., possessed of animal instincts to hunt and kill(Gen. 8:21)! Kashrut is a form of control upon those instincts. It echoes back to our original prohibition against eating other creatures. If we must eat meat, the logic goes, then the boundaries of permitted and forbidden foods force us to choose a higher form of nourishment, and thus to raise ourselves above the animals themselves by making us act as creatures made in God's image in a more holy manner.

One other word about the three categories. For land and water animals we are given physical characteristics to determine permissibility, and for birds a specific but manageable list of those forbidden to us. This form of determination allows our dietary laws to be portable. When we traveled from place to place in the world and encountered new species, we have only had to look at them to determine if they were permissible to eat. What an ingenious and accessible method of keeping "clean," i.e. kosher, wherever we may live! So even if you have no idea what a rock badger is, you'll know you can't eat it if you ever run into one.

Prepared by Rabbi Scott Aaron, Hillel at Ohio State University Hillel.

In our professional, academic and personal lives we mark the passage of time as the weather gets warmer, as the school year ends or as we prepare for a vacation that we are planning to take.

In Jewish time, we find ourselves marking time in a very different way. We just finished Passover several weeks ago and we are looking forward to the holiday of Shavuot when we will commemorate the giving of the Torah to Moses and the children of Israel. What connects these two holidays to each other is a strange and often misunderstood ritual known as S'firat Ha-Omer—the counting of the Omer—when we count the 49 days from the second night of Passover until the first night of Shavuot.

To understand the relationship between these two holidays and the ritual that connects them, we need to ask two questions: 1) what is the counting of the Omer? and 2) why are these two holidays linked to each other?

The counting of the Omer is commanded in this week's Torah portion, Parshat Emor, where it says

Then from the day on which you bring the sheaf (omer) offering—the day after the Sabbath (meaning Passover)—you shall count off seven weeks. They must be complete: you must count until the day after the seventh week (Leviticus 23:15).

The Torah is describing the original agricultural ritual that would have been performed during the time of the Temple when Israelites would bring a special grain offering for each of the 49 days between Passover and Shavuot. Scholars tell us that the counting of the Omer, along with Passover and Shavuot, were all originally centered on these types of agricultural themes and rituals. As Judaism has developed, they have also come to be linked with the watershed events of the Exodus from Egypt and the giving of the Law at Mt. Sinai.

So while this may explain our first question about the meaning of the counting of the Omer, it does not help us to understand the second question regarding the thematic connection between Passover and Shavuot.

Why would Judaism link the moment of our national liberation and freedom with a holiday that seems to commemorate the opposite of freedom, the day we received the Law that regulates all areas of religious, economic and civil life?

Dr. L. Grunfeld, in his famous essay about the three-fold meaning of keeping Kosher, offers one powerful answer to this question.

To the superficial observer it may seem that people who do not obey the law are freer than law abiding people, because they can follow their own inclinations. In reality, however, such people are subject to the most cruel bondage: they are slaves of their own instincts, impulse, and desires.

In other words, it is only through law that we really become free. This notion works on at least three levels. First, law helps us to create freedom in time. By regulating, marking and dividing the moments of our days, weeks and years, law has the capacity to free us from the isolation that come from living only in the moment. Rather than simply responding to each and every shift in an ever changing world, law helps us to live with a measure of constancy and the ability and perspective to see our lives from a panoramic view point. Second, law frees us from the personal isolation of having to make every choice by ourselves as if we were alone. By living with others within the context of external legal boundaries, we are pushed to create and live in communities and to work together to define and manage the world in which we live. Third, law, with its ability to create safety and order, frees us from the fickle and self-serving choices of all those around us. Without law to regulate our communities and our neighbors, we would never be free from their wants and desires.

In each of these three ways, law helps us to gain freedom in a way that seems counterintuitive—the same law that limits and controls us, also frees us from the "slavery" of being bound only to our own instincts, impulses and desires.

Here then is the link between Passover and Shavuot. We count the 49 days of the Omer in order to count up from the political freedom we gained in the Exodus to the more profound and universal freedom we gained when we accepted the Law. In other words, the Exodus was only the first step in the Israelite emancipation. True freedom only comes with responsibility, with the giving of the law on Shavuot.

May the upcoming weeks during the counting of the Omer be a time for each of us to renew our commitment to the laws that help us find the kind of freedom that guides us toward a life that is filled with more contentment, more love and more justice.

Prepared by Rabbi Mike Uram, assistant director and campus rabbi at the University of Pennsylvania Hillel.

Additional commentaries and text studies on Emor at MyJewishLearning.com.

"Be good"

I often heard my mother's words trickle through as the bus doors slammed shut. On my way to school I would sometimes wonder about the vagueness of the directive, but I soon became distracted by pop rocks, last night's baseball scores, and something equally as vague called Watergate. "Be good," "be polite," and "be nice," seemed to dominate my childhood, and yet no one explained how I was supposed to accomplish the moral triumvirate.

In this week's double-parsha, we find a directive by God that appears just as hazy as my mother's advice:

The Lord spoke to Moses, saying:
Speak to the whole Israelite community and say to them:
"You shall be holy, for I, the Lord your God, am holy."
(Sefer Leviticus, Parashat Kedoshim, 19:1-2)

Most of the Rabbinic commentaries are fascinated with this all-encompassing order. "Be holy." Holiness has a variety of meanings. Are we supposed to lock ourselves away in synagogues or yeshivot and continually learn Torah? Should we give away all our possessions and embrace the ascetic way of life? Should we meditate in the desert and await a cleansing or purging of our soul and body? No. Holiness is much more difficult than that. Rashi (1040-1104), the sublime commentator, claims that in order to be holy we must:

Separate yourselves from sexual immorality.
(Kedoshim Tihiyu, 19:2)

Rashi connects the previous parsha's (Acherai-Mot) warnings against sexual immorality with the beginning of Parashat Kedoshim's directive to be holy. Rashi finds a few verses in the Torah that demonstrate an explicit connection between the word Kadosh (holy) and sexual transgressions. Ramban (Nachmanides, 1195-1270), however, takes issue with Rashi by pointing to numerous places where holiness is not associated exclusively with sexual immorality. Ramban maintains that the concept of holiness lies in our ability to maintain self-restraint. AJew who wants to attain holiness must temper his passions and control his desire for excess. A married couple should not engage in marital relations several times a day. We are allowed to eat a kosher steak, but we should
not eat seven of them in one sitting. We can drink kosher wine, but not to the point of debauchery. For the Ramban, holiness is the antithesis of vulgarity. Dignity and a balanced lifestyle are synonymous with holiness. Nachmanides is aware that one could follow all of the technicalities of Jewish Law and still violate this directive of "kedoshim Tihiyu." In his words, one could become a "Naval b'rishut HaTorah," a primitive soundrel with license from the Torah. Excessive pride, gluttony and sexual improprieties are destructive forces that eliminate our nobility. Once we can demonstrate self-restraint, we can slowly attain dignity, and then even holiness. By constant reflection we can refine ourselves and ultimately become closer to God. During the process of developing nobility through self-restraint we inevitably help our friends, community and the world at large.

My mother's directives as well as God's are to be learned through osmosis. We learn by observing our role models and experience. Moreover, by internalizing the Torah and its halachic values we transform ourselves into dignified, noble people. Our parents, teachers and friends who display compassion and self-restraint deepen our sense of humanity and consequently our holiness. Conversely, the athletes, actors and politicians who exhibit ruthless and brutal selfishness erode our sense of nobility. "Kedoshim Tihiyu" is on endless trial and we have the wherewithal to issue a spiritual and ethical verdict on the decree, as our Rabbis tell us in Masechet Megillah (25a), "Everything is in the hands of Heaven, except for the fear of Heaven." Shabbat Shalom.

Prepared by Rabbi David Ehrenkranz, Brandeis University Hillel.

This week's parshah, Tazria, deals with various infections and diseases that may result in tzara'at. This term is often translated as "leprosy," though our Rabbis are quick to note that it is a spiritual disease that leaves one tameh or spiritually impure, and not a medical ailment. Tzara'at may infect a person's body, clothing or home. Someone who is infected with tzara'at must leave the camp and remove all of his or her infected clothing. They must remain outside of the camp until the infection is healed, at which point they have to offer a sacrifice. Our parsha deals with how to determine whether an infection is tzara'at on not.

The Torah goes through a number of cases of possible cases of tzara'at and describes how to determine if it is tzara'at and how to treat it. The following verses are the introductory verses to this section of the Torah and are similar in structure and content to the other cases that the Torah discusses:

Leviticus 13:1-8
The Lord spoke to Moses and Aaron, saying: When a person has on the skin of his body a swelling, a rash or a discoloration, and it develops into a scaly affection on the skin of his body, he shall be brought to Aaron the priest or to one of his sons, the priests. The priest shall examine the affection on the skin of his body: if hair in the affected patch has turned white and the affection appears to be deeper than the skin of his body, it is tzara'at; when the priest sees it, he shall pronounce him unclean. But if it is a white discoloration on the skin of his body which does not appear to be deeper than the skin and the hair in it has not turned white, the priest shall isolate the affected person for seven days. On the seventh day the priest shall examine him, and if the affection has remained unchanged in color and the disease has not spread on the skin, the priest shall isolate him for another seven days. On the seventh day the priest shall examine him again: if the affection has faded and has not spread on the skin, the priest shall pronounce him clean. It is a rash; he shall wash his clothes and he shall be clean. But if the rash should spread on the skin after he has presented himself to the priest and been pronounced clean, he shall present himself again to the priest. And if the priest sees that the rash has spread on the skin, the priest shall pronounce him unclean; it is leprosy.

Your Torah Navigator
1. Why must the priest declare whether the infection is tzara'at, especially if the Torah tells us how to determine if it is tzara'at?
2. Why do doubtful cases have to be isolated for one or two weeks?
3. Is there any reason given for why one would be infected with tzara'at?
4. Generally, the Torah's commandments are divided into two categories: those relating to humans' relationship God and those relating to humans' relationship with other humans. Under which category does tzara'at fall?

Deuteronomy 24:8
In cases of skin affection be most careful to do exactly as the Levitical priests instruct you. Take care to do as I have commanded them.

Your Torah Navigator Again
1. Why does the Torah stress to be most careful concerning this commandment? It does not make similar statements about all of the commandments?
2. Why does the Torah stress the role of the priests in cases of tzara'at?

The most common understanding of tzara'at is that it results from speaking lashon hara, or speaking maliciously about someone. This stems from the fact that in the Book of Numbers Miriam is punished with tzara'at after speaking maliciously about her brother Moses. However, the Talmud lists seven reasons why one may get tzara'at.

Babylonian Talmud, Arachin, 16a
Rabbi Shmuel bar Nachmani taught in the name of Rabbi Yochanan: There are seven reasons why infections [of the skin] come: For speaking maliciously about someone, bloodshed, taking a false oath, forbidden sexual relationships, arrogance, thievery, and narrow-eyedness [or narrow vision].

Your Talmud Navigator
1. Why do each of these things result in tzara'at?
2. How are each of these things connected?
3. According to the Talmud would tzara'at be a mitzvah concerning humans' relationship with God or a mitzvah focusing on humans' interaction with other humans?

A Word
Tzara'at is a confusing subject in the Torah, and even harder for us to relate to. The fact that we do not have a good understanding of what it is, or how it occurs may be exactly why the Torah places such a strong emphasis on followings its laws - whatever tzara'at is, it is clearly a punishment for a wrong-doing. The ambivalence over its categorization as a mitzvah relating to God and humans or a mitzvah relating to humans and humans emphasizes the point that really ultimately all mitzvot relate to God. Judaism is concerned with all areas of our lives. This may also explain why the priests play such a prominent role - to remind the infected person that he or she has committed a religious sin and must atone for that sin. Perhaps the time that the person infected with tzara'at must leave the camp and be isolated from the rest of the nation is meant to reflect on his/her sin and repent for it.

While the laws of tzara'at are no longer in place today, they teach us the importance of reflecting on all of our actions and being sure that we have not sinned against our fellow humans or against God.

Prepared by Elliot Kaplowitz, Iyyun Fellow, Joseph Meyerhoff Center for Jewish Learning.

Learn More
Additional commentaries and text studies on Tazria at MyJewishLearning.com.

It's almost pool season. Soon, in every development in the country, small children in polka-dot bathing suits will run ahead of mothers and babysitters toward their neighborhood swimming pool for afternoons and weekends of splashing in the cool water, eating ice cream and enjoying the early summer sunshine.

At most pools, there is a large wooden sign listing the numerous rules that one must obey while at the pool. These specific rules include running (don't), eating (only in the designated eating areas), pushing (don't), diving (only in the deep end) and lightning (as soon as you see it, get out of the pool). Teenage lifeguards sit on high, adorned with red whistles waiting for the moment when they can blow their whistle and point to the large sign of rules.

Like the swimming pool, the Jewish people have rules too. In fact, we thrive on them. They help us structure our daily life. They tell us what is permitted and what is forbidden. They try and help make sense out of an often-senseless world. This week's parsha, Acharei Mot, is full of rules: rules concerning offerings in the temple, rules addressing Yom Kippur and its observances and, at the end of the parsha, rules regarding appropriate sexual behavior.

And like the pool rules, Acharei Mot goes into great detail: "Do not uncover the nakedness of your father's wife - it is the nakedness of your father. The nakedness of your sister - your father's daughter or your mother's, whether born into the household or outside - do not uncover their nakedness. The nakedness of your son's daughter or your daughter's daughter - do not uncover their nakedness, for their nakedness is yours. Do not uncover the nakedness of your father's sister; she is your father's flesh. Do not uncover the nakedness of your mother's sister; she is your mother's flesh. Do not uncover the nakedness of your mother's brother: do not approach his wife; she is your aunt. Do not uncover the nakedness of your daughter-in-law: she is your son's wife; you shall not uncover her nakedness." (Lev 18:7-15)

Why are such specific statements made? Isn't enough to say: "Don't uncover the nakedness of 'the following,'" and then list them all? What meaning can we find in the repetition and the detail? Just like the pool rules, sometimes it's important for every detail to be laid out, for everyone to know all the rules and for nothing to be left to interpretation.

Birgit Sacher, a writer for the Union for Reform Judaism's daily "10 Minutes of Torah," writes that these laws were made explicit to distinguish them from other Near Eastern ritual practices, which had no restrictions on appropriate sexual relations or worship. "By contrast, Acharei Mot provides communal discipline, responsibility and structure for the Israelites. Worship must be centralized, animals must be slaughtered in a dignified manner to be fit for consumption, and relationships with other people must be respectful. These distinguishing characteristics served to differentiate the children of Israel from surrounding cultures," Sacher wrote.

At the pool, we can also see how the rules strive to provide communal discipline, responsibility and structure for the Jewish people. These rules create a swimming community that values respecting one another, responsibility for one's actions and provides appropriate discipline when needed. It is only right that the pool rules, like the rules laid out in Acharei Mot, are available for all to see. If we forget, we need only to look at the big sign, or open our chumash, to remind ourselves what is right. Ultimately, the Torah exists as a constant reminder of our responsibilities as Jews and the specificity ensures that we don't forget a single commandment. Don't forget: There is still no running on the pool deck.

Prepared by Karen Perolman, JCSC Fellow, Rutgers University Hillel

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Additional commentaries and text studies on Acharei Mot at MyJewishLearning.com.

This week we read another double-portion, Aharei Mot-Kedoshim (Leviticus 16:1 – 18:28 and 19:1-20:25). These two portions form the beginning of what is known as the Holiness Code (Leviticus 17-26), a set of directives that help define how Israel is to enact holiness.

At the beginning of Kedoshim (Leviticus 19:1-2) we read:

"The Lord spoke to Moses, saying: Speak to the whole Israelite community and say to them: You shall be holy (kedoshim), for I, the Lord your God, am holy."

What it means for the People of Israel "to be holy" has been the subject of much discussion throughout our history. Even though we find a partial answer to this question in the Torah itself through this week's reading, the answer is still far from clear.

Our biblical ancestors saw one route to holiness in our response to elders, elders of age and elders of wisdom.

Leviticus 19:32
You shall rise before the aged -mipnei seiva takum -- and show honor to the elder – hadarat penai zaken; you shall fear your God: I am the Lord. (Lev. 19:32)

Your Torah Navigator
1. The term seiva is oft translated using the odd phrase "hoary head". After looking up "hoary" in the dictionary, you will find that it means "gray haired." In short, the Torah tells us to stand before someone up in years. The term zaken can mean either "old" or "elder," that is, one who is chronologically elderly or one deemed by society to be a person of wisdom, regardless of age. How are the terms seiva and zaken related?
2. Why would the Torah use both seiva and zaken?
3. Exactly whom does the Torah instruct us to honor and why?

The Torah has much to teach us about the connections between age and wisdom. Are we to show deference to old people merely because they are old. If so, why? If not, why not? Let's see what our rabbinic ancestors had to say about all this.

Babylonian Talmud Tractate Kiddushin (32)
Our rabbis taught: "You shall rise before the aged." I might think even before an elderly person who is uncultured and ignorant. Therefore (in order to clarify), the Torah states (Numbers 11:16): "Gather unto Me seventy men 'miziknei' (of the elders) of Israel." Rabbi Yose the Galilean says: "The word zaken means only one who has acquired wisdom…"

Isi the son of Yehudah says: "'You shall rise before the aged' implies any aged person," and Rabbi Yohanan says: "The law is as Isi the son of Yehudah." Rabbi Yohanan used to rise before the heathen aged, saying, "How many troubles have passed over these."

Your Talmud Navigator
1. According to the Talmud, what are the two ways to interpret zaken?
2. What kinds of wisdom are there and how might wisdom be acquired through life?
3. Why would Rabbi Yose privilege sages in interpreting our verse? What value is he expressing?
4. Why does Rabbi Yohanan side with Isi? What value is he expressing?

A Word
Rabbi Yose and Rabbi Yohanan disagree fundamentally with what it means to be an "elder." Rabbi Yose sees an elder as one who has emerged as a respected teacher and leader in Israel. It is by virtue of one's education, in effect, that one merits the honor of which the Torah speaks. Thus, one need not be "elderly" to merit the honor due an "elder." Rabbi Yose describes the honor that we accord to our rabbis, teachers, and others who have taught us through both words and deeds.

On the other hand, Rabbi Yohanan sees an elder as one who has acquired wisdom through the depth and breadth of one's life experiences. In his view, it is by virtue of having lived many years that an elder deserves to be honored. Rabbi Yohanan's view is expressed well in Leviticus Rabbah 25:5, which recounts how a king invites a very old commoner to sit before him in a golden chair and then the king fills the old man's basket with money. When questioned by his courtiers, "Will you show all this honor to that old Jew?," the king replies, "His creator honors him, and shall not I honor him, too?" In short, by having lived a full life, the very old man has earned the respect of the king. Nowadays, we show respect for the elderly in many ways, including literally rising as they enter the room, giving up our seats for them, visiting with them, and -- let's not forget -- sending their photos to Willard Scott on the Today Show.

Each time the Torah is taken for the Holy Ark, the congregation rises. In so doing we show honor to our sacred text, the source of our wisdom, a link with our past. Thus, elders, no matter how we define "elders," are like the Torah. We are to rise in their presence. Elders, like Torah, can fill our minds with information and inspiration. They can tell us what is and what ought to be. In this respect, an elder needn't be "hoary haired," just learned and in a position to impart information to us. But the "hoary haired" provide us with a much needed perspective on life that can only come from having lived many years. Their wisdom is practical but often more illuminating than the wisdom of those we commonly refer to as our teachers. And they adorn our lives with a precious connection to generations past. Indeed, Proverbs (25:31) refers to old age as "a crown of splendor."

Rabbi Yose and Rabbi Yohanan are both right. The elder of culture and learning and the elder of years both merit that we rise before them. To be sure, in showing deference to elders we honor the Torah that resides within each of them. And by honoring Torah, we honor God.

Prepared by Rabbi Daniel Aronson, Dean of Admissions and Recruitment at the Reconstructionist Rabbinical College.

Learn More
Additional commentaries and text studies on Acharei Mot and Kedoshim at MyJewishLearning.com.

Acharei Mot, one of this week's two Torah portions (there are a few double-header weeks this year to fit everything into the calendar), begins with a description of the rites of Yom Kippur. Then, the portion goes on to explain ways in which all members of the community are responsible for holy behavior, with particular emphasis on certain dietary laws and sexual prohibitions. Leviticus contains a litany of laws and commandments; this particular chunk is known as the Holiness Code, and continues in the second portion we read this week, Kiddushim.

In the midst of laying out Gd's guidelines for our holy behavior, before diving into rules against forbidden sexual partners, we read, "You shall not copy the practices of the land of Egypt where you dwelt, or of the land of Canaan to which I am taking you; nor shall you follow their laws. My rules alone shall you observe, and faithfully follow my laws: I the Eternal am your Gd." (Leviticus 18:2-4) These lines raised my assimilated Jewish-American eyebrows.

In trying to make sense of this passage, a d'var Torah from Kolel: The Adult Centre for Jewish Learning, suggests that it is "fair to assume [this] means not to copy any surrounding culture"—that if you find yourself in Russia or the United States instead of in the Sinai Desert, then you can substitute "Russian" or "American" for "Egyptian" and "Canaanite." The point, really, is that Jews follow Jewish law and tradition, and not the laws or practices of any other people.

Yet the Talmud states that "the law of the land is the law" (Gittin 10b); in other words, Jews are responsible for following the secular laws of the jurisdiction in which they reside, unless those laws contradict mitzvot. And beyond the law, I know that my own sense of self owes a great deal to what I have observed and adopted from the diverse communities in which I have lived and traveled.

Seeing how mega-church communities welcome newcomers has taught me how to relate to unengaged Jews, lyrics of Indigo Girls songs have helped me discern my values, and Barack Obama's leadership style reinforces my appreciation for dialogue and intellectual curiosity. It is not that these things are contrary to Judaism, but that I found them in secular places. For our students, the only reality they know is intercultural. A religion that asks them to build fences against rich and interesting outside influences relegates itself to irrelevance. Must we read this week's portion as a condemnation of all assimilation?

Many scholars have debated how we should interpret Acharei Mot's injunction against abiding the practices and laws of the "Egyptians" and "Canaanites," which has become even more problematic in recent centuries as most Jews have integrated into mainstream society (and, in reality, as all disparate cultural groups have become more integrated with each other).

Some suggest that these verses are only meant as an introduction to the subsequent sexual prohibitions against practices that were common amongst Egyptians and Canaanites. But the Kolel d'var mentioned above points out that "the Sefat Emet asks if only prohibited sexual unions are forbidden, why the text begins with the more general: 'You shall not do like the deeds of the Land of Canaan.' According to the Sefat Emet, we are not to imitate 'Egypt and Canaan' in all our deeds, in other words, even in innocent matters, such as clothing styles."

Along the same line, Sifra, the midrash that accompanies Leviticus, posits that "this passage forbids Jews to attend the bloody entertainments of the Roman amphitheater, to practice various superstitious customs of the gentile world, and even to imitate gentile styles of hairdressing." These sources suggest that it is not just when non-Jewish practices offend our values that we should reject them, but even in seemingly-innocuous cases of fashion or other aesthetic trends.

On the other hand, Kolel wavers, "the champion of modern Orthodoxy, Rabbi Hirsch, suggests that the injunction only holds in some contexts. He maintains that we may 'imitate the nations among who we live in things that are based on reason, but not on things relating to religion or superstition.' "

So how do we discern when we might absorb elements of the ambient culture and when we should reject secular practices? In a commentary published on MyJewishLearning.com, Rabbi Bradley Shavit Artson writes:

Those non-Jewish practices and insights which strengthen Jewish survival, which sensitize us as a people, which teach us how to be more loving, more caring, and more sensitive, which prompt us to understand more about Judaism and to practice it more fully, pose no threat to our Jewishness. On the contrary, we benefit from their inclusion. An openness to learn, however, should not be mistaken for blind adoption of all Gentile standards. Torah and later Jewish traditions stand as the ultimate counterculture—opposing all that would cheapen human life or reduce our consciousness of the holy. Much in modern life deserves our opposition. But those insights that strengthen Torah, which make Jewish identity more vibrant and more central, deserve our study and our adoption. In cultivating those insights, we harvest a growing Torah. By adding to the riches of our heritage, we assure its continued greatness."

Our challenge, then, is to work for the integrity of Judaism. How can we and our students absorb the value of the world around us without losing a sense of what is most valuable about our own traditions and teachings? How can we validate the thought students give to all facets of their identities, and do so in a way that opens a conversation about how Judaism comes to bear on their senses of self? Just as we can expand the richness of Judaism by engaging deeply with outside influences, it is up to us to ensure that the same deep dialogue encompasses the scope of Judaism's existing and inherent richness.

Written by Robin Weber, senior associate, Center for Jewish Experience.

Well, one wonders why we have nearly an entire parsha dedicated to purifying an unfortunate skin condition. No doubt any adolescent would be sympathetic, but one may safely assume that what is being dealt with here is more serious than a few zits.

The rabbis also ponder why the attention to these issues. It must be that these conditions were common enough so that the Torah needed to address them. The rabbis looked throughout the Torah in order to ascertain why might one be afflicted with the skin condition, Tzara?at.

Take a look at the following verses:

Numbers 12:1-10

1 Now Miryam spoke, and Aharon, against Moshe on account of the Cushite wife that he had taken-in-marriage, for a Cushite wife had he taken.

2 They said: Is it only, solely through Moshe that YHWH speaks? Is it not also through us that he speaks? And YHWH heard.

3 Now the man Moshe is exceedingly humble, more than any (other) human who is on the face of the earth.

4 And YHWH said suddenly to Moshe, to Aharon and to Miryam: Go out, the three of you, to the Tent of Appointment! The three of them went out.

5 And YHWH descended in a column of cloud and stood at the entrance to the Tent; he called out: Aharon and Miryam! and the two of them went out.

6 He said: Pray hear my words: If there should be among-you-a-prophet of YHWH, in a vision to him I make-myself-known, in a dream I speak with him.

7 Not so my servant Moshe: in all my house, trusted is he;

8 mouth to mouth I speak with him, in-plain-sight, not in riddles, and the form of YHWH (is what) he beholds. So why were you not too awestruck to speak against my servant, against Moshe?

9 The anger of YHWH flared up against them, and he went off.

10 When the cloud turned away from above the Tent, here: Miryam has tzara?at ( a skin contion) like snow! When Aharon faced Miryam, here: she has tzara?at!

YOUR CHUMASH NAVIGATOR

1. What was the reason Miryam was stricken?

2. Was the claim against Moshe addressed?

3. Did it matter at all that what she was saying was true?

4. Why isn?t she and Aharon entitled to their opinion?

The rabbis saw that tzara?at was the result of malicious speech. When they spoke on this parsha, Rabbi Jannai recounts the following story:

THIS SHALL BE THE LAW OF THE Metzora. This is alluded to in what is written, Who is the man that desires life (Psalms. 34:13). It is like a peddler who used to go round the towns in the vicinity of Sepphoris, crying out: ' Who wishes to buy the elixir of life?? and drawing great crowds round him. Rabbi Jannai was sitting and expounding in his room and heard him calling out: ?Who desires the elixir of life?? He said to him: ?Come here, and sell me it.? The peddler said: ' Neither you nor people like you require that [which I have to sell].? The Rabbi pressed him, and the peddler went up to him and brought out the Book of Psalms and showed him the passage, ? Who is the man that desires life.?

What is written [immediately] thereafter?--Keep your tongue from evil, depart from evil and do good. Rabbi Jannai said: Solomon, too, proclaims, Whomever keeps his mouth and his tongue keeps his soul from troubles (Proverbs 21:23). Rabbi Jannai said: All my life have I been reading this passage, but did not know how it was to be explained, until this hawker came and made it clear, ? Who is the man that desires life...? Keep your tongue from evil, etc.? It is for the same reason that Moses addressed a warning to Israel, saying to them, THIS SHALL BE THE LAW OF THE MEZORA, MeTZoRA is an acronym for MoTZi shem RA (one who sullies the reputation of another.)

YOUR MIDRASH NAVIGATOR

1. What is the peddler doing? Is he trying to trick people?

2. Why does he refuse to sell to Rabbi Jannai?

3. Why does Rabbi Jannai insist that he sell it to him?

4. Do you think the peddler realizes that he is selling something of value, or is it a trick?

5. Is Rabbi Jannai happy with what he has been sold?

6. Why?

A malicious tongue creates a hideous result for everyone to see. Lashing out toward others will only bring scars to one?s self. The rabbis sees the maker of malicious slander as the most wretched of people, and yet there seems to be an awareness that it is common for many, maybe most?even the best of us, to become one who maligns others. So it is necessary to have a ritual which separates us from the camp until we have control and can rejoin our community as a supportive constructive member.

Take a look at the next midrash which talks about Abraham as he is about to survey the land of Israel for the first time:

R. Berekiah began: Your ointments have a goodly fragrance (Song of Songs I, 3). Said R. Berekiah: What did Abraham resemble? A vial of myrrh closed with a tight- fitting lid and lying in a corner, so that its fragrance was not disseminated; as soon as it was taken up, however, its fragrance was disseminated. Similarly, the Holy One, blessed be He, said to Abraham: ?Travel from place to place, and your name will become great in the world?: Thus the verse says: Go forth from your land."

Abraham spreads the fragrance of benevolence, compassion and good speech throughout the land, and his name is made great by virtue of his goodness. He is the example of how a holy people should behave when travelling the sacred space of Eretz Yisrael. It is that fragrance we, as Jews are mandated to internalize, and as we bless each other on Medinat Yisrael?s 50th year, let us use this opportunity to speak well of each other and make the land as fragrant as when Abraham first surveyed her borders.

Prepared by Rabbi Avi Weinstein.

Every year when I read Emor I notice one passage that states, "Any man of your offspring [referring to a priest - the cohen] throughout their generations in whom there will be a blemish shall not come near to offer the food of his God." (Vayikra 21:10) This passage doesn't sit well with me. I struggle to understand how we can be created in the image of God and still not attractive enough to God to say thank you to him. Is God superficial? And if God is not superficial, why would God require that the priest is without blemish?

Don't we learn from the beginning of the Torah that we are b'tzelem Elohim, created in God's image? We were created in God's likeness, we have the breath of God in us, and yet because a person has a blemish, bushy eyebrows or one arm longer than the other, that person cannot make a sacrifice to God! If a person has poor eyesight or an oddly shaped nose, they cannot fulfill their duty as a cohen and make a sacrifice to God? What part of being in the image of God is this person missing? He or she is a human being created in the image of God. That's what I have been taught since I was in diapers, and now I read that we are only in the image of God when it's convenient for God!

Yet, perhaps God understood that humans respond to physical traits faster than they respond to emotional. We can see this throughout our society today. You can walk down the street and see a billboard featuring Gisele or other models. People Weekly recently released its "50 Most Beautiful People" issue, which focuses on physical beauty. You can watch TV and see physical beauty being promoted everywhere. Every day each of us takes a glance in the mirror before we head off to work. Even for some of us who don't care about our physical appearance, we have to care because society demands that of us.

We are taught from our childhood that physical beauty is good and that blemishes are bad. We can view this through the Wicked Witch of the West and Dorothy, through Darth Vader and Luke Skywalker. We can see this through Snow White and the queen who poisons her. Our childhood is filled with these images, so how can you blame us for being so superficial?

It is a shame that we judge people based on our first physical impressions of them and unfortunately, we ourselves are sometimes guilty of that. I know I am. Maimonides understood that it was human nature to avoid those with physical blemishes. He was disturbed by this passage that forbade cohenim with blemishes from offering sacrifices and addressed this in the "Guide to the Perplexed" (Section 3 Chapter 45), where he states that "because only someone who is whole with regard to his limbs and who is handsome will be accepted by the masses." It was his fear that people would equate blemishes of the cohen to blemishes in the Temple or God. It was his belief that people might avoid coming to the Temple to make sacrifices if they were scared by a cohen who was not physically perfect.

A story is told in the Talmud of an incident between Rabbi Kahana and Rabbi Yohanan ben Ha-Nappah that further shows that even our great sages could judge based on physical appearance. Rabbi Yohanan, an old man with bushy eyebrows and poor eyesight, was giving a lecture to his class. Rabbi Kahana kept pointing out problems with Rabbi Yohanan's arguments so much that Rabbi Yohanan started to doubt himself and his knowledge. He looked up at Rabbi Kanana, who had a cleft lip, and thought that Rabbi Kahana was laughing at him. Rabbi Yohanan was greatly humiliated and embarrassed, and Rabbi Kahana died because he felt he had insulted Rabbi Yohanan so much. Later Rabbi Yohanan was told that Rabbi Kahana was not laughing at him, but that the appearance of him laughing was his natural appearance. When Rabbi Yohanan had realized that he judged and made an assumption based on Rabbi Kahana's physical appearance, he pleaded that Rabbi Kahana be brought back so that he might be able to apologize to him.

It is this Torah portion and the story of Rabbi Kahana and Rabbi Yohanan that always remind me that it is so easy to judge people on their outer beauty or blemishes instead of really taking the time to get to know them and really see who they are. Parshat Emor really teaches me to be a Hillel professional and tells me that I need to treat everyone equally. It teaches me that everyone is made in the image of God and deserves to be treated with the utmost respect, whoever they are.

Perhaps God's demanding the priest be without blemish is designed to force us to raise this objection and demand that we treat everyone as an equal and with the dignity and respect they deserve. I am glad that I am offended when I read this passage because it reminds me that I must treat everyone equally. Those with physical blemishes, or those that are physically perfect, we are all equal and we deserve to be treated as equal. When people are able to realize this they will see that we are all truly created in God's image, that we are b'tzelem Elohim.

This d'var Torah is dedicated to my friend Jesse Billauer, who despite his physical blemish of being a quadriplegic, has found a way to surf as well as run his own non-profit organization called Life Rolls On.

Prepared by Seth Rosenzweig, program director, Hillel of San Diego at San Diego State University

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Additional commentaries and text studies on Emor at MyJewishLearning.com.

Chapters 9 and 10 of Leviticus - the beginning of our Parashah - tell a terrible story within a wonderful story. It is the eighth day of the ordination of the priests, Aaron and his sons. On this day, the priests will offer the sacrifice and the presence of the Holy One will come to reside in the Tabernacle in full view of all the people Israel. But something goes wrong, and Nadav and Avihu, Aaron's two eldest sons, are struck down before the holy altar, consumed with fire by the Holy Presence. What happened?

Leviticus Chapter 9, Summary
Lev 9:1-4 On the eighth day of the ordination, Moses calls Aaron and his sons, and gives them the instructions for the sacrifice, and tells them that God will appear to them this day.
9:5 Aaron and his sons gather at the Tent of Meeting, and the whole community assembles.
9:6-7 Moses tells Aaron to offer the sacrifices and make expiation first for himself and then for the people.
9:8-14 Aaron and his sons offer the sin offering and the burnt offering for themselves
9:15-21 Aaron and his sons offer the people's offering
9:22 Aaron blesses the people and steps down
9:23-24 Moses and Aaron enter the Tent of Meeting, come out, and then the Presence of the Eternal appears before the people. Fire comes from before the Eternal and consumes the offering upon the altar. The people fall down upon their faces.

Midrash Sifra states that, after all the sacrifices had been performed correctly, and the Holy Presence had still not arrived, Aaron was afraid that God was punishing him for the Golden Calf, so Moses went in with him and begged for mercy, and at once the Presence descended upon Israel.

Leviticus 10:1-2
Now Aaron's sons Nadav and Avihu each took his own censer put fire in it, and laid incense on it; and they offered before the Lord alien fire, which [God] had not enjoined upon them. And fire went forth from before the Eternal and consumed them; thus they died before the Lord.

Your Torah Navigator
1. What is "strange fire"?
2. What are Nadav and Avihu trying to do?
3. What do you suppose it means, "each takes his own censer"?
4. The wording of 10:2 is exactly the same as 9:24 - "Va - teitzei eish milifnei ha-Shem vatochal" - "Fire went forth from before the Eternal and consumed...." Could they have come before the altar just as Moses and Aaron brought the Presence there?

A Word
Two generations; two sets of brothers. Aaron and Moses have been a team from the beginning. Here's their biggest project - the Tabernacle that will serve as the model of worship for Israel even until our own day. God is supposed to appear; but doesn't, even though Aaron has done everything right. The first thing he thinks to do is get Moses, and consult with him. How are Nadav and Avihu different? "Each man took his own censer." They didn't consult, either one another, or Moses and Aaron. They took it upon themselves to go into the Tabernacle and, quite possibly, ended up at the Holy of Holies just when Moses and Aaron were blessing the people, and got in the way of the Presence. What does this teach us? Moses and Aaron are a model of cooperative leadership. They are forever holding one another up. One's shortcoming is mitigated by the other's strength. They rescue each other. Nadav and Avihu are not equipped to rescue one another, so when they come to a dangerous impasse, it kills them. Lack of communication is deadly to shared leadership.

Prepared by Rabbi Leslie Bergson, Jewish Chaplain and Hillel Director, the Claremont Colleges.

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Additional commentaries and text studies on Shemini at MyJewishLearning.com.

This week, the Jewish community marked Rosh Chodesh Nisan (the first day of the Hebrew month of Nisan), which, among other things, indicates that Passover is right around the corner. For traditionally observant Jews, the preparations for Passover are perhaps the most elaborate and time-consuming rituals observed in modern Jewish life. With as much care as our ancestors once prepared their sacrificial offerings, many Jews today seek to rid our dwellings of any possible crumbs of chametz (leavened products), cleaning our homes from top to bottom, moving every piece of furniture, scrubbing behind the stove and under our refrigerators (as well as thoroughly cleaning the appliances themselves), switching over dishes, covering countertops and much, much more.

In Parshat Metzora, which we read this week, the Torah describes another thorough but very different type of "home cleansing." In Leviticus 14: 34-42, we read:

When you enter the land of Canaan that I give you as a possession, and I inflict upon a house in the land you possess, the owner of the house shall come and tell the priest saying, "Something like a tzara'at has appeared upon my house." The priest shall order the house cleared before the priest enters to examine the tzara'at, so that nothing in the house shall become impure.

There are many questions that this section of the parsha raises, not the least of which is what is the meaning of the expression tzar'at habayit - "a plague on the house." It appears to be some type of disease that grows on buildings, and many have speculated that it might have been some type of mold. But whatever the plain meaning of the text is, the rabbis declared that "there has never been, nor will there ever be, a house smitten with tzara'at. Why then was the law given? To study it and be rewarded for studying it." (Sanhedrin 71a) In other words, what is most important is not the nature of the actual plague (which may have never existed), but what we can learn from it allegorically.

So what then is the meaning of tzara'at? Modern Biblical scholar Nehama Leibovitch explains that "tzara'at is a divine signal to the straying soul to return to the way of the Torah, a sublime manifestation of God's desire to have the sinner do teshuvah (repentance)." (Studies on Vayikra ad locum) She bases this on a teaching from Maimonides, who was a physician, and taught that "tzara'at of garments and houses are not natural phenomena, but wondrous signs for the people of Israel to warn them against the sin of lashon ha-ra (gossip). Thus the house wall of those who indulge in evil talk will undergo a change. If he repents, the house becomes pure again; if he persists in his evil ways, so much so that his house is demolished, his leather couches and accessories suffer discoloration, but they will regain their purity if he repents. If he fails to abandon his bad ways, to the extent that they have to be burnt, his garments are affected by the tzara'at. If he repents, they regain their purity...." (Mishneh Torah, Laws of Tuma't Tzara'at 16:10)

Thus, in the case of tzara'at, Maimonides gives us a different way of looking at what it means to "clean our home" - it is not about the physical cleaning we do, but rather a spiritual cleansing - ridding ourselves and our households of all of those things that turn us away from living our lives according to our highest values.

Or perhaps this really is no different from the Passover cleaning we are currently engaged in, but another side of the same coin. For if we look at what exactly chametz is, we discover it is a substance which gets inside, festers and grows, changing the nature of the original object. If we take chametz to its allegorical level, then we can also see it as that which we allow to get inside of us, fester and take us away from living the lives we want to live. All of us have such chametz in our lives - perhaps it is a longstanding grudge against a friend who may have wronged us, or resentment toward a co-worker who got the promotion we thought we deserved, or anger toward loved ones for something they said or did that hurt us.

Whatever our own personal chametz may be, Parshat Metzora teaches us that we must find ways to rid ourselves of it. As we prepare for Passover this year, let us devote equal energy to the cleansing of this spiritual chametz as we do to our physical chametz.

Prepared by Rabbi Marc Israel, director, KESHER College Department

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Additional commentaries and text studies on Metzora at MyJewishLearning.com.

In our professional, academic and personal lives we mark the passage of time as the weather gets warmer, as the school year ends or as we prepare for a vacation that we are planning to take.

In Jewish time, we find ourselves marking time in a very different way. We just finished Passover several weeks ago and we are looking forward to the holiday of Shavuot when we will commemorate the giving of the Torah to Moses and the children of Israel. What connects these two holidays to each other is a strange and often misunderstood ritual known as S'firat Ha-Omer—the counting of the Omer—when we count the 49 days from the second night of Passover until the first night of Shavuot.

To understand the relationship between these two holidays and the ritual that connects them, we need to ask two questions: 1) what is the counting of the Omer? and 2) why are these two holidays linked to each other?

The counting of the Omer is commanded in this week's Torah portion, Parshat Emor, where it says:

Then from the day on which you bring the sheaf (omer) offering—the day after the Sabbath (meaning Passover)—you shall count off seven weeks. They must be complete: you must count until the day after the seventh week (Leviticus 23:15).

The Torah is describing the original agricultural ritual that would have been performed during the time of the Temple when Israelites would bring a special grain offering for each of the 49 days between Passover and Shavuot. Scholars tell us that the counting of the Omer, along with Passover and Shavuot, were all originally centered on these types of agricultural themes and rituals. As Judaism has developed, they have also come to be linked with the watershed events of the Exodus from Egypt and the giving of the Law at Mt. Sinai.

So while this may explain our first question about the meaning of the counting of the Omer, it does not help us to understand the second question regarding the thematic connection between Passover and Shavuot.

Why would Judaism link the moment of our national liberation and freedom with a holiday that seems to commemorate the opposite of freedom, the day we received the Law that regulates all areas of religious, economic and civil life?

Dr. L. Grunfeld, in his famous essay about the three-fold meaning of keeping Kosher, offers one powerful answer to this question.

To the superficial observer it may seem that people who do not obey the law are freer than law abiding people, because they can follow their own inclinations. In reality, however, such people are subject to the most cruel bondage: they are slaves of their own instincts, impulse, and desires.

In other words, it is only through law that we really become free. This notion works on at least three levels. First, law helps us to create freedom in time. By regulating, marking and dividing the moments of our days, weeks and years, law has the capacity to free us from the isolation that come from living only in the moment. Rather than simply responding to each and every shift in an ever changing world, law helps us to live with a measure of constancy and the ability and perspective to see our lives from a panoramic view point. Second, law frees us from the personal isolation of having to make every choice by ourselves as if we were alone. By living with others within the context of external legal boundaries, we are pushed to create and live in communities and to work together to define and manage the world in which we live. Third, law, with its ability to create safety and order, frees us from the fickle and self-serving choices of all those around us. Without law to regulate our communities and our neighbors, we would never be free from their wants and desires.

In each of these three ways, law helps us to gain freedom in a way that seems counterintuitive—the same law that limits and controls us, also frees us from the "slavery" of being bound only to our own instincts, impulses and desires.

Here then is the link between Passover and Shavuot. We count the 49 days of the Omer in order to count up from the political freedom we gained in the Exodus to the more profound and universal freedom we gained when we accepted the Law. In other words, the Exodus was only the first step in the Israelite emancipation. True freedom only comes with responsibility, with the giving of the law on Shavuot.

May the upcoming weeks during the counting of the Omer be a time for each of us to renew our commitment to the laws that help us find the kind of freedom that guides us toward a life that is filled with more contentment, more love and more justice.

Written by Rabbi Mike Uram, assistant director and campus rabbi at the University of Pennsylvania Hillel.

The Book of Leviticus takes us on a deep quest for holiness. We explore myriad ways in which holiness is lost and regained and parse out an unfamiliar ritual system for the restoration of the holy order.

The value of a spiritual journey is clear enough. The amount of attention the Torah gives to leprosy, on the other hand, seems out of place. While the sacrificial system is no longer in use, our retelling of its story enables us to maintain a sense of connection with our ancestors, helps us to link our quest for holiness with theirs, even as we achieve that holiness in a radically different way. It would be hard to make a similar case for leprosy, to which the Torah devotes fully two parshiyot.

"As for the person with a leprous affection, his clothes shall be rent, his head shall be left bare, and he shall cover over his upper lip; and he shall call out, 'Impure, impure.'" (Leviticus 13:45)

Rashi, the 12th-century French commentator (and vintner), points out that the proclamation "Impure, impure" is intended as a warning to those who might accidentally come in contact with the leper. It's quite clear that we are to separate ourselves from any source of impurity and not risk the contamination with which it is associated. But it does seem that this public declaration of impurity simply adds insult to injury. Is not the leper's physical suffering enough?

In an age of inclusion, in which we seek passionately to ensure that no one is left out, this is a discomfiting idea. Let's take a moment, though, to examine our understanding of the terms "pure" and "impure."

In Purity and Danger, Mary Tew Douglas writes, "Whether they are rigorously observed or violated, there is nothing in our rules of cleanness to suggest any connection between dirt and sacredness. Therefore, it is only mystifying to learn that primitives make little difference between sacredness and cleanness." For generations, we have presumed that to be impure meant to be unclean. However, a careful examination of the sources reveals that pure and impure are ritual categories. In most cases they yield restrictions on participation in temple or sacrificial service but have little impact on social behavior. Impurity is a reflection of a broken spiritual state. Anyone living in a close-knit community knows the degree to which diseases of the spirit can be spread and impact upon the well-being of the community as a whole.

Leprosy, it turns out, is one of the cases of impurity which does result in restrictions on social interaction. The reason for that may lie in the rabbinic interpretation of its cause: gossip. A play on the name of next week's parshah, Metzora, yields the acronym for motzi shem ra, one who brings forward a bad name (for someone else). Coupled with Tzipora's sudden leprosy following speaking ill of Moses' wife, the rabbis derive that leprosy was the punishment for lashon hara, or evil speech. The mandate to isolate the leper from the community would come, then, not to protect the community from his or her physical ailment, but from the spiritual affliction which posed a certain threat to others.

That said, we are still left with the challenge of a tradition which appears to mandate exclusion over rehabilitation. How are we to build a civil society, a community which is warm and welcoming, when we impose embarrassment and exclusion on those who suffer?

The Talmud comes to our rescue here. In Moed Katan we learn that the proclamation is intended not only to warn others of the risk of contact, but to elicit compassion and prayers. One who is guilty of undermining the spiritual health of the community is set apart, it's true. But the community maintains a sense of connection and responsibility, paving the way for their speedy return.

While we are fortunate that we do not cope with leprosy in our communities, we do cope with the ebb and flow of communal concerns and the balance and tension between maintaining standards which celebrate who we are and providing multiple points of entry for those who, for any number of reasons, are on the outside. We strive daily to create sacred, holy environments, nurturing the souls of individuals and communities alike. Some days are met with more success than others; sometimes it's hard to find the holiness in setting up one more chair or shlepping one more table. Then there is the moment where you see the light of understanding in a student's eyes, or you hear the chorus of many student voices raised in prayer or song. Ultimately, it is exhausting, fulfilling and sacred work, and it's our privilege to do our share.

Prepared by Rabbi Elyse Winick, Assistant director, KOACH

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Additional commentaries and text studies on Tazria at MyJewishLearning.com.

This week's Torah portion, Parshat Kedoshim, opens with one of the most difficult, yet most poorly defined tasks in Torah: the commandment to be holy. The Torah offers little explanation of how to fulfill this monumental task.

Leviticus 19:1-2
The Lord spoke to Moses, saying: Speak to the whole Israelite community and say to them: You shall be holy (kedoshim), for I, the Lord your God, am holy (kadosh).

Your Torah navigator
1. What does it mean to be holy (kedoshim) as God is holy (kadosh)?
2. How can we learn behavior from God?

A Word
Don't get me wrong, I think holiness is a great thing and I'd love to do it. But what is God talking about? Saying be holy is as informative as telling a doctor "I hurt, please fix it."

An answer to these very important philosophical questions may be understood by addressing another fundamental question: Why does the Torah dedicate significant ink to describe Abraham's kindness but almost wholly neglects to describe the period of Abraham's search and invention of monotheism? Would it not be more worthwhile for the Torah to describe how Abraham found God and brought others to become aware of God?

Seemingly, Abraham's behavior was not rational. On the third (and most painful) day after his circumcision Abraham went to offer hospitality to travelers. Then, when no travelers were to be found, he bemoaned the fact that he was not doing his job. Finally, when God graced him with three guests, Abraham ran to get the best of his cattle and food. Surely desert travelers would be elated by simply having fresh food, why then did Abraham have to get them the best?!

If one judges by human standards, Abraham was not acting rationally. However, if one would understand Abraham's inspiration, it can be seen how truly righteous his actions were.

Before there was a planet and universe, there was just God. God felt compelled to create a universe and thereby bestow kindness on a limited and mortal world. So too, was Abraham's behavior. When he was sick, his primary concern should have been for himself and his recovery. Yet despite that, he was compelled to go out and look to do kindness for others.

But for Abraham, it wasn't enough to just do kindness it had to be the best kindness. Why? When creating the world, naturally God should have first created Adam (& Eve). Then, after seeing that they need land to walk on, create earth with water to drink and trees to eat, etc… But that is not how God formulated creation. God first created everything else, and only created humankind after the entire universe was created from end to end. This way the best of everything was available to Adam and Eve as soon as they were created. So too was Abraham's kindness. It was not enough that he met his guests' basic needs. Abraham had to do his utmost to provide anything and everything that he could think of the make their brief sojourn with him pleasant and motivational.

As Abraham has done with his guests and as God has done with us, so too are we commanded to do irrational kindness to others. Be Holy for I am holy. We, the Children of Israel, do not define holiness, religion, or ethics by humanistic imagination which is limited, biased, and often cruel. We are a people who are holy as our God is holy. We do kindness and we heal as our God does kindness and heals.

Prepared by Moshe Starkman, Data Systems Associate, Hillel's Schusterman International Center.

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Additional commentaries and text studies on Kedoshim at MyJewishLearning.com.

Leviticus 12:1-15:33

Skin diseases, fungus in our homes, and purification of a woman after childbirth! Oh my! These are just some of our topics of conversation each time we are hit with the awesome task of rediscovering the parshiot of Tazria and Metzora, two Torah portions that are often combined into one reading, as they are this year. Let's see what the text has in store for us this year.

Leviticus 14:33-36

33. YHWH spoke to Moses and Aaron, saying:
34. When you enter the land of Canaan that I give you as a possession, and I inflict an eruptive plague upon a house in the land you possess,
35. The owner of the house shall come and tell the priest, saying, "Something like a plague has appeared upon my house."
36. The priest shall order the house cleared before the priest enters to examine the plague, so that nothing in the house may become unclean; after that the priest shall enter to examine the house.

Your Leviticus Navigator

1. What is this "plague" that has erupted in the house?
2. Is there some explanation for why it could have occurred?
3. Why does the priest order the house to be cleared out before he enters?

These questions have remained a mystery to Jews for thousands of years. And yet they have provided us with some great midrashic material! In this interpretation, the rabbis focused on what would happen in the neighborhood when the contents of a house are cleared out for everyone to see.

Vayikra (Leviticus) Rabba 17:2

A man says to his friend, "Lend me a chab of wheat" and the other says, "I have none." Another man says to the same friend, "Lend me a chab of barley" and the other says, "I have none." This happens with three more people who ask that same friend for a chab of dates, for a sieve, and for a sifter. Each time the friend says, "I have none." What does the Holy One do? He causes leprosy to come upon his house, and as he takes out his household objects, people see, and say, "Did he not say, 'I have none?' See how much wheat is here, how much barley, how many dates! Cursed be the house with such cursed inmates!" Rabbi Isaac B. R. Eliezer adds that the house sinks on account of such cursed people.

Your Leviticus Rabba Navigator

1. According to Leviticus Rabba, what is the purpose of emptying the house?
2. According to the rabbis, what then is the "plague" that has fallen on the house?
3. According to the midrash, how does God react to our not sharing our belongings?
4. What does this say about what we tell our neighbors?
5. What does this say about the dangers of greed and materialism? The benefits of being generous?

A Word

So often, even in small ways, we deny ourselves to other people. We deny them our belongings, our time, our help. Our own materialism prevents us from being generous with others. We might think to ourselves, "No one will know if
I say that I do not have what they are looking for. Why bother?" In answer to this question, Judaism would say that God is present even in these times of what seem to be trivial matters. What we say just might come back to get us in the end. Today most of us do not believe that we will be struck with leprosy for lying about what we own. And yet this example may help us to see just how important it is to be generous with our neighbors when they ask us for a chab of dates, for a sieve, or for a sifter. If we have them, what's the harm in saying "yes?"

Prepared by Andrea Lerner Midwest Director of Hillel's Joseph Meyerhoff Center for Jewish Learning at the University of Wisconsin, Madison.

Tazria presents us with a description of skin disorders and how to deal with them. In these chapters we not only have a handbook for ancient medical treatments and rituals, but also receive instructions about how to live as a community.

Leviticus 13:43-46
When the priest looks at him, and here: the swelling of the affliction is white (and) reddish, on his bald spot or on his forehead, like the look of tzaraat (leprosy) on the skin of flesh: He is a man, with tzaraat, he is tamei (unclean), (yes) tamei, tamei shall the priest (declare) him, on his head is his affliction.

Now the one with tzaraat that has the affliction, his garments are to be torn, his head is to be made-bare, and his upper-lip is to be covered. "Tamei! Tamei!" He is to cry out.

All the days that the affliction is on him, he shall remain tamei. Tamei is he. Alone shall he stay. Outside of the camp is his staying-place.

Your Torah Navigator
1. The word tamei here is translated as "unclean."
-Is it a good translation?
-How would you translate tamei?
2. Why do you think the person who is tamei tears his clothes?
3. Why do you think he must announce to others that he is tamei?
-To protect himself?
-To protect others?
4. How does the person contract this affliction?
-Is it contagious?
5. Why must he stay away from others, even other people with this affliction, outside of the camp?

The rabbis have many questions about this passage and its meaning. In particular, the rabbis wonder about two aspects: how a person contracts this affliction, and why he must stay away from others while he has it. Rashi attempts to answer these two questions.

Rashi
And (he) shall cry, "Unclean! Unclean!", announcing that he is unclean, so that (people) should withdraw from him.

He shall dwell alone, "(Other) unclean people shall not dwell with him. And our Rabbis have said 'Why is he different from other unclean people to dwell alone?' Since he caused a separation through evil talk (lashon hara) between husband and wife, or between a man and his friend, (therefore) he also should be separated (isolated)."

Your Rashi Navigator

1. What does Rashi say is the sin that caused his affliction?
2. What is lashon hara?
3. How does the punishment fit the crime?
4. Do you think it is a proper punishment?

A Word
"Have you heard something about someone? Let it die with you. Be of good courage, it will not harm you if it ends with you." (Ben Sira 19:10).

Judaism defines lashon hara as slander, gossip, tale bearing, and all the other forms of damage to the individual and society that may be caused by words. We learn that talking about others is not recommended, even if what we say is true. And in some cases, even if what we say is positive.

Learning how to live as a community means learning how to communicate with other people. But it also means learning when not to communicate with others. There are times when saying little is better than saying a lot. Judaism encourages us to use our words thoughtfully and carefully. Otherwise we might say something we regret. And if we cannot prevent ourselves from talking to others, we might just have to remove ourselves from a situation for awhile so we can clean up our act.

Rabbi Andrea Lerner, Midwest Director for Hillel's Joseph Meyerhoff Center for Jewish Learning and Campus Rabbi, University of Wisconsin.

This week we read Parshat Emor (Leviticus 21:1 – 24:23). This portion discusses the sanctity of the Cohanim (priests) as well as the various Jewish Holidays. This weekend also marks the 33rd day of the Omer counting, celebrated as Lag BaOmer, the Yartzeit of the famed scholar Rabbi Shimon Bar Yochai.

Leviticus 23:15
You shall count for yourselves – from the morrow of the rest day, from the day when you bring the Omer of the waving – seven weeks, they shall be complete.
(Lev. 23:15)

Your Torah Navigator
1) What relevance does this have today when we no longer bring the Omer offering? Most of the laws regarding the Omer offering are not applicable when there is no Temple.
2) What is the connection between Passover and the Omer counting?
3) How does counting the Omer represent a spiritual exercise, rather than a monotonous counting of days?
4) What is the meaning for each individual counting the Omer as opposed to a collective count by the community?

A Word
To really understand the meaning behind Sefirat HaOmer we need to go back to the beginning of the counting, Passover. Before Passover it is customary for us to search for chameitz in our homes and belongings. What does chameitz represent and why are we searching for it?

In honor of Lag BaOmer, and Rabbi Shimon Bar Yochai (author of the Zohar, the classic work of Jewish Mysticism) I would like to offer a kabalistic interpretation.

Each holiday represents an internal change that can take place within the individual. On Pessach we celebrate our freedom from slavery. What exactly is this slavery? It is very difficult to imagine or relate to what our ancestors went through thousands of years ago. Admittedly, we could propose that with such portrayals of the Exodus in 'The Ten Commandments' or 'The Prince of Egypt' one can catch a glimpse of the situation. Unfortunately it seems to have little relevance to most people's every day lives today.

The mystics describe each holiday as a great opportunity for internal change within every Jew. Passover is a time for self examination and reflection on issues of enslavement today. Chameitz represents those parts of the self that we would rather be without, that in a sense enslave us. In today's society we face many kinds of slavery - including addiction to drugs, alcohol, sexuality and materialism to name a few.

The 16th century Kabbalist, Rabbi Isaac Luria (known as the Ari), explains the search for chameitz as a search within the self for negative character traits and habits. The Ari explains that the catalyst for discovery is looking though our material possessions for signs and hints of what is within. After all, if we wanted to learn about a person, a step into their house or college dorm (if you can get past the large mounds of clothes) reveals much about the individual. We tend to surround ourselves with things we love and identify with. Judaism challenges us to question "Are these things part of the real me or are they just external attachments?" - in essence chameitz. So it is through our search of our physical possessions and external surroundings that we can catch a glimpse of the inner self. We must ask ourselves, "What are we enslaved to?" Perhaps we have an unhealthy relationship to certain things or people that we would be better off without.

And this brings us to counting the Omer. Once we have discovered those challenging points in our inner lives which we would like to work on, how do we commence the spiritual rehabilitation? Like everything in life, true growth takes place over time, with check points and plans for how to achieve our goals. When the Jewish people came out of Egypt they went from zero to 60 on the spiritual ladder but ended up crashing down because they could not sustain this unnatural rise in their status.

When we strive to become better people it is important to work on ourselves one step at a time. And this is what the Omer counting represents, a gradual development that achieves true growth which does not dissipate shortly thereafter.

Each day of Sefirah corresponds to a particular attribute that we examine and work on within the self. The overall goal is to prepare for the revelation of the Torah on Shavuoth. And thus the inner meaning of Sefirah is not just counting the days to an eagerly anticipated event but, in addition, an inner spiritual build-up to becoming the best person we can be within an organized process of achievement and spiritual development. May we merit to achieve tremendous accomplishments in changing ourselves for the better.

Prepared by Rabbi Ely Allen, Director of Campus Youth Services at the UJA Federation of Bergen County and North Hudson

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Additional commentaries and text studies on Emor at MyJewishLearning.com.

And the lord spoke to Moses after the death of the two sons of Aaron, When they came near the Lord, and died; 2. And the Lord said to Moses, Speak to Aaron your brother, that he come not at all times into the holy place inside the veil before the covering, which is upon the ark; that he die not; for I will appear in the cloud upon the covering.

Your Torah navigator
1. Why did the sons of Aaron die?
2. Why were they punished for coming close to the Lord? Isn't that a good thing to do?
3 Why does God warn Aaron about approaching the holy of holies?
4. What is the cloud of God?

Talmud - Mas. Sukkah 28a
They said of Jonathan b. Uzziel that when he used to sit and occupy himself with the study of the Torah, every bird that flew above him was immediately burnt.

Midrash Rabbah - The Song of Songs I:53
Once as Ben 'Azzai sat and expounded, the fire played round him. They went and told R. Akiba, saying, 'Sir, as Benn 'Azzai sits and expounds, the fire is flashing round him.' He went to him and said to him: 'I hear that as you were expounding the fire flashed round you.' He replied: 'That is so.' He said to him: 'Were you perhaps treating of the secrets of the Divine Chariot?' 'No,' he replied. 'I was only linking up the words of The Torah with one another and then with the words of the prophets, and the prophets with the writings, and the words rejoiced as when they were delivered from Sinai, and they were sweet as at their original utterance.

Your Midrash and Talmud Navigators
1. What is the meaning of the fires in these two texts?
2. Are these fires good or bad?
3. What are the differences between the fires?
4. Are these fires a result of enlightenment?

A Word from near and far!
There are many ways to reach God and to reach "inner peace" for one's self. One may think that by devoting all his life to God and disconnecting completely from the world, he will achieve enlightenment. One may think that sitting at home complacently when the world around us is collapsing is a solution. One must know this isn't the way of God. We are all created in God's image, thus we have the power and the obligation to make the world around us an active place to live and work in. We have the obligation to use the most mundane things to make this place an inhabitable world. A place where we feel a connection between us and the world and between us and God!

This week we celebrate the Independence Day of the State of Israel. It is important to realize that the same concepts of caring and connecting with the people around us and the land around us, applies to the Land of Israel and the people of Israel, even though it seems so much easier to close our eyes and be oblivious to the needs and struggles of our brothers and sisters. We must wake up and say "Enough is enough!" For 2000 years, we have been persecuted for no reason. We cannot afford to stand by idly and allow persecution in our own land. It is our obligation to our heritage to our people to stand up from far and near, to get together and say: "Enough!"

Prepared by Rabbi Menachem Even-Israel, Regional Educator Baltimore Region, Hillel's She'arim - Gateways Initiative.

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Additional commentaries and text studies on Acharei Mot and Kedoshim at MyJewishLearning.com.

Barley is the first crop to be harvested in Israel. Its harvest signifies the beginning of a long spring, summer and fall of produce and fruit to be harvested. The 50-day period between Pesach and Shavuot will be the time that both barley and wheat will be harvested. It is the period when the bread of the nation of Israel will be determined and decreed. It is also the period that counts the days between the Exodus from Egypt and the day when Israel received the Torah. The days of great anticipation and profound vulnerability are intentionally intertwined.

Leviticus 23:9-11

And the Lord spoke to Moses, saying, Speak to the people of Israel, and say to them, When you come to the land which I give to you, and shall reap its harvest, then you shall bring an omer of the first fruits of your harvest to the priest; And he shall wave the omer before the Lord, to be accepted for you; on the next day after the sabbath [the day after Passover] the priest shall wave it.

Your Torah Navigator

1. What is the purpose of this offering?
2. What does the waving motion signify?

Midrash Leviticus Rabba (Vayikra Rabba)

How would he wave the omer?

Rabbi Chama Bar Rabbi Ukva in the name of Rabbi Yossi Bar Chanina said: He would wave it to and fro and up and down. The motions to and fro symbolize that the entire world belongs to God. The motions up and down symbolize that the heavens and the lower worlds belong to God.

Rabbi Simon Bar Yehoshua said: He waves it to and fro to stop the harsh winds, and he waves it up and down to halt the harsh dew.

Your Midrash Navigator

1. Both of the Rabbis explain how the waving is done and what it signifies. In what ways are the answers similar?
2. How do they differ?

A Word

It is interesting to note that the Arabic name for the hot desert winds that afflict Israel in the spring and throughout the summer is "chamsin" which means fifty, the same number of days between Passover and Shavuot. These winds when they occur on consecutive days can utterly destroy a harvest. When part of the harvest has begun and it has been successful, it was reflexive to offer thanks and acknowledge the continued support essential for a successful year.

The Talmud teaches that between Passover and Shavuot - during these 50 days - a plague killed thousands of Rabbi Akiva's students, the same days that they were awaiting to relive the revelation at Sinai.

This is a period of great opportunity and profound vulnerability. The land can either be bountiful or parched. This year Israel has been blessed with rain of blessing and favor. May the dew also come with favor.

This has also been a period where the winds of history have made us feel vulnerable and where the ephemeral nature of all existence is poignantly felt in a country only 54 years old.

It is also the period when we once again literally recount our epiphany at Sinai, and trust that through our good works and devotion all of Israel will endure and thrive in spite of and because of these dark times.

Prepared by Rabbi Avi Weinstein, Director, Hillel's Joseph Meyerhoff Center for Jewish Learning.

One of the defining features of the Priesthood is the pre-occupation with purity. The first rule the Torah teaches is that the Kohen cannot engage in burying the dead.

There are, however, exceptions.

Levititcus 21:1-3

Say to the priests, the Sons of Aharon, say to them: For a (dead-)person among his people, one is not to make oneself tamei, except for his kin, one near to him: for his mother or for his father, or for his son, or for his daughter or for his brother, or for his virgin sister, near to him, who has never belonged to a man, for her he makes himself tamei.

Rashi on the verse:
Except For His Kin: His kin refers to his wife

Your Torah Navigator

1. Is the Kohen obliged to be involved in the burial of his immediate family, or is he permitted?
2. It is understandable that he would be permitted, but why would he be obliged?

A Word

Rabbi Akiva understood this verse as commanding the Kohen to be involved in the burial of his family members even if it makes him "tamei" (Babylonian Talmud Sotah 3a.) He knew if the Kohen understood that if burying family members was an option there would be those who would see this as an opportunity to demonstrate their devotion to the Torah by opting not to become "tamei," and he interprets the verses in the Torah accordingly. Later opinions, and indeed the Halacha agrees with Rabbi Akiva's interpretation.

He understood that no good could come from such a commitment to purity. It is not only inhuman to be disengaged from the burial of family members, it is ungodly.

Prepared by Rabbi Avi Weinstein, Director The Joseph Meyerhoff Center for Jewish Learning.

What does it mean to take a break? As Hillel professionals we know what it means to be overworked, exhausted and in desperate need of a vacation, and in reality, many of our students feel the same way as well. However, despite all this, we do not take enough breaks, or have enough time for ourselves. Over the past two years since Hurricane Katrina, over 1,600 students and staff have gone on alternative breaks to help rebuild the devastated Gulf Coast. Throughout my two years as a Steinhardt JCSC fellow, first at the University of North Carolina and currently at the University of Maryland, I have been among the those fortunate staff members who have traveled to the Gulf Coast through Hillel's Hurricane Katrina alternative break program.

To witness 60 Maryland students working alongside students from across the country is an amazing sight. This past spring break, we had the chance to work at The Bayou Civic Center, in the heart of Slidell, Louisiana, the town that housed Hillel's volunteers. Sunday began an adventure in which students exhausted themselves physically and emotionally, yet they awoke each day motivated to work and meet community members. Sweeping, gutting, painting -- the students did it all. Day after day, students learned how to work more efficiently; they became a team, a community. As Friday afternoon came closer, the staff helped prepare the students to bring their work to a close. Some students were puzzled: If our work was not entirely done, why would we be finished?

In Parashat Behar, it states, "God spoke to Moses at Mount Sinai, telling him to speak to the Israelites and say to them: When you come to the land that I am giving you, the land must be given a rest period, a sabbath to God. For six years you may plant your fields, prune your vineyards, and harvest your crops, but the seventh year is a sabbath of sabbaths for the land. It is God's sabbath during which you may not plant your fields, nor prune your vineyards. Do not harvest crops that grow on their own and do not gather the grapes on your unpruned vines, since it is a year of rest for the land.." (Leviticus 25:1-5)

In Behar, we are taught about the sabbatical year of the fields, the people and the animals. God promises the people that if they work until the sixth year and then take a break for the Shemitah year (seventh, sabbatical year) they will have enough produced to sustain themselves.

How does this relate to our students? On their Sabbath in the Gulf Coast, a rest, a sabbatical, a shemitah, is mandatory. The students are not given the opportunity to work on Saturday, because of the belief that rest is valuable. Like the land, this is one of the most important things for the students throughout the week. By not working on Saturday, students have the opportunity to reflect more thoroughly, appreciate their work, and really embrace their experience.

But still, how do we respond to those students who ask why? Why take the break and leave the work unfinished in some cases?

Rashi, the 11th-century French commentator, noted the language of the verse "the aftergrowth of your harvest." He says: "although you did not sow it, but it grew by itself from seeds that [inadvertently] had dropped on [the ground] at the time of harvesting." Rashi believes that growth will occur from the seeds that are inadvertently left when working the field in the first six years. In many regards, our students are in the same situation. After a week of working, the products of their efforts will ultimately give way to the opportunity of communal growth for the Gulf Coast community.

At the beginning of the week at the Bayou Civic Center, the students were welcomed by Junior, the president of the Center and a Slidell resident. Two years after the Hurricane, his center was still in ruins and the playground was a mess. However, by Friday when Junior returned, the joy in his eyes was immeasurable. While the students had not completed the Civic Center's restoration in full, they had given Junior and his community the opportunity to return, rejoice and ultimately move forward with their enthusiasm and determination for a homecoming.

Ultimately, we can learn that while many of us do not take enough breaks, or long enough breaks, we can be confident that even while there will always be more work to be done, the ripples of the work done and the work left over will still be able to propel others forward.

Written by Dorie Ain, Senior Jewish Campus Service Corps Fellow, University of Maryland Hillel

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Additional commentaries and text studies on Parshat Behar at MyJewishLearning.com.

This week's Torah portion is Parshat Behar. It deals with the laws of the sabbatical and jubilee year. Every seventh year is a sabbatical year, during which the land must lay fallow. Every fiftieth year is a Jubilee year. During the Jubilee year, in addition to the restrictions on working the land that apply during sabbatical years, all land reverts back to its original owner and all slaves go free.

Leviticus 25:1-14
1 The Lord said to Moses on Mount Sinai,
2 "Say to the people of Israel, When you come into the land which I give you, the land shall keep a Sabbath to the Lord.
3 Six years you shall sow your field, and six years you shall prune your vineyard, and gather in its fruits;
4 but in the seventh year there shall be a Sabbath of solemn rest for the land, a Sabbath to the Lord; you shall not sow your field or prune your vineyard.
5 What grows of itself in your harvest you shall not reap, and the grapes of your undressed vine you shall not gather; it shall be a year of solemn rest for the land.
6 The Sabbath of the land shall provide food for you, for yourself and for your male and female slaves and for your hired servant and the sojourner who lives with you;
7 for your cattle also and for the beasts that are in your land all its yield shall be for food.
8 "And you shall count seven weeks of years, seven times seven years, so that the time of the seven weeks of years shall be to you forty-nine years.
9 Then you shall send abroad the loud trumpet on the tenth day of the seventh month; on the Day of Atonement you shall send abroad the trumpet throughout all your land.
10 And you shall hallow the fiftieth year, and proclaim liberty throughout the land to all its inhabitants; it shall be a jubilee for you, when each of you shall return to his property and each of you shall return to his family.
11 A jubilee shall that fiftieth year be to you; in it you shall neither sow, nor reap what grows of itself, nor gather the grapes from the undressed vines.
12 For it is a jubilee; it shall be holy to you; you shall eat what it yields out of the field.
13 "In this year of jubilee each of you shall return to his property.
14 And if you sell to your neighbor or buy from your neighbor, you shall not wrong one another.

Your Torah Navigator
1. When Jews started to establish agricultural communities in Israel in the late 19th and early 20th centuries, the observance of the Sabbatical year became a critical issue. If the Jews observed these laws, allowing their land to remain fallow for a whole year, it might spell financial ruin to struggling settlements. Some rabbis, such as Rabbi Isaac Elhanan Spector of Kovno and Rabbi Avraham Isaac Kook, suggested that Jews sell their land to gentiles for the year as a way of circumventing disaster. Since the land would not technically be owned by Jews, it would not be subject to the laws of the Sabbatical year. Can you name other "legal fictions" in Jewish practice? Is this a justifiable practice?

2. Does the idea of all land returning to the original owners, implying economic equality, anticipate socialism or communism? Do you think we could ever do this here in the USA or Canada (Britain, Argentina or wherever you live?) Is this desirable? Why don't they do this in Israel?

3. We count seven sabbatical years and then observe a jubilee on the fiftieth year. This is something like counting the Omer, which we do at this time of year, counting seven times seven days, observing Shavuot on the fiftieth day. Generally we Jews recite "shehechyanu" when we do a mitzvah for the first time. So why don't we say "shehechyanu" when we start to count the omer?

4. Words from this week's portion are found on the liberty bell "Proclaim Liberty throughout the land and unto all the inhabitants thereof." How does the usage on the liberty bell differ from the meaning in its Biblical context? (Be careful, the liberty bell was cast before American Independence ... and does not refer or anticipate separation from Great Britain!)

A Word
American society values work. Americans, on the average, work longer hours and take fewer vacations than most Europeans. American Jews have embraced this ethos and, by dint of education, ambition and sweat, have risen to the top of society. We take justifiable pride in their achievement. But Judaism, through institutions such as the Shabbat and Festivals, requirements for daily prayer, study and deeds of righteousness, teaches us to always be mindful that work is a means to an end and never an end in itself. In this week's torah portion, Behar, we learn about the sabbatical year, a time when the land and its owners are to rest. The world tells us "Just don't stand there, do something!" Judaism, on the other hand, seems to be saying "Just don't do something, stand there!" For workaholics, that can be very difficult! But sometimes we need to tune out the foolish noises in our ears in order to get in touch with the silent prayer of our souls. Torah helps us do that.

Prepared by Rabbi Kenneth L. Cohen, executive director, American University Hillel.

Learn More
Additional commentaries and text studies on Behar at MyJewishLearning.com.

YOUR TORAH NAVIGATOR

Before the Torah is given to the children of Israel, the word OMeR appears the first time. The manna that fed Israel during their time in the desert is given and their measure is referred to as an OMeR. Manna was a gift in response to the complaints of a recalcitrant Israel and through manna, shabbat is introduced as a day of rest.

After the Torah is given, the word OMeR appears in reference to an offering made in the Temple after the first day of Passover. This "wave offering" continues to be made daily for fifty days until the first fruits are brought to the Temple on Shavuot.

To link the OMeR which refers to Manna and the OMeR that refers to the Temple offering and explain how one connects to the other is what a classical midrashic interpreter would do.
Read the two Biblical passages and then make as many connections as possible.

Tanach - Exodus Chapter 16

And they took their journey from Elim, and all the congregation of the people of Israel came to the wilderness of Sin, which is between Elim and Sinai, on the fifteenth day of the second month after their departing out of the land of Egypt. And the whole congregation of the people of Israel murmured against Moses and Aaron in the wilderness; And the people of Israel said to them, Would to God we had died by the hand of the Lord in the land of Egypt, when we sat by the meat pots, and when we did eat bread to the full; for you have brought us forth into this wilderness, to kill this whole assembly with hunger.

Then said the Lord to Moses, Behold, I will rain bread from heaven for you; and the people shall go out and gather a certain portion every day, that I may test them, whether they will walk in my Torah, or not. And it shall come to pass, that on the sixth day they shall prepare that which they bring in; and it shall be twice as much as they gather daily.

And Moses and Aaron said to all the people of Israel, At evening, then you shall know that the Lord has brought you out from the land of Egypt; And in the morning, then you shall see the glory of the Lord; when he hears your murmurings against the Lord; and what are we, that you murmur against us? And Moses said, This shall be, when the Lord shall give you in the evening meat to eat, and in the morning bread to the full; for that the Lord hears your murmurings which you murmur against him; and what are we? your murmurings are not against us, but against the Lord.

And Moses spoke to Aaron, Say to all the congregation of the people of Israel, Come near before the Lord; for he has heard your murmurings. And it came to pass, as Aaron spoke to the whole congregation of the people of Israel, that they looked toward the wilderness, and, behold, the glory of the Lord appeared in the cloud. And the Lord spoke to Moses, saying, I have heard the murmurings of the people of Israel; speak to them, saying, At evening you shall eat meat, and in the morning you shall be filled with bread; and you shall know that I am the Lord your God.

And it came to pass, that at evening the quails came up, and covered the camp; and in the morning the dew lay around the camp. And when the dew that lay was gone, behold, upon the face of the wilderness there lay a small round thing, as small as hoarfrost on the ground. And when the people of Israel saw it, they said one to another, It is manna; for they knew not what it was. And Moses said to them, This is the bread which the Lord has given you to eat.

This is the thing which the Lord has commanded, Gather of it every man according to his eating, an omer for every man, according to the number of your persons, whom each of you has in his tent.

And the people of Israel did so, and gathered, some more, some less. And when they did measure it with an omer, he who gathered much had nothing over, and he who gathered little had no lack; they gathered every man according to his eating. And Moses said, Let no man leave of it till the morning. However they listened not to Moses; but some of them left of it until the morning, and it bred worms, and stank; and Moses was angry with them.

And they gathered it every morning, every man according to his eating; and when the sun became hot, it melted. And it came to pass, that on the sixth day they gathered twice as much bread, two omers for one man; and all the rulers of the congregation came and told Moses. And he said to them, This is what the Lord has said, Tomorrow is the rest of the holy sabbath to the Lord; bake that which you will bake today, and boil what you will boil today; and that which remains over lay up for you to be kept until the morning.

And they laid it up till the morning, as Moses bade; and it did not stink, neither was there any worm in it. And Moses said, Eat that today; for today is a sabbath to the Lord; today you shall not find it in the field. Six days you shall gather it; but on the seventh day, which is the sabbath, in it there shall be none. And it came to pass, that some of the people went out on the seventh day to gather, and they found none. And the Lord said to Moses, How long refuse you to keep my commandments and my laws?

See, because the Lord has given you the sabbath, therefore he gives you on the sixth day the bread of two days; abide you every man in his place, let no man go out of his place on the seventh day. So the people rested on the seventh day. And the house of Israel called its name Manna; and it was like coriander seed, white; and its taste was like wafers made with honey. And Moses said, This is what the Lord commands, Fill an omer of it to be kept for your generations; that they may see the bread with which I have fed you in the wilderness, when I brought you out from the land of Egypt.

And Moses said to Aaron, Take a pot, and put an omer full of manna in it, and lay it up before the Lord, to be kept for your generations. As the Lord commanded Moses, so Aaron laid it up before the Testimony, to be kept. And the people of Israel ate manna forty years, until they came to a land inhabited; they ate manna, until they came to the borders of the land of Canaan. And an omer is the tenth part of an ephah.

THE TALMUD, YOMA 86a

The students of Rabbi Shimon Bar Yochai asked: Why didn't the Manna come to Israel once a year [as opposed to coming each day}? He replied: I'll give you an example. It is a like a king who has only one son. He decides to give him an annual allocation, and the son would only see his father once a year. So, his father decided to give him a daily allowance, and the son then visited his father every day.

The same is true for Israel. Anyone who has four or five children would worry and say: "Maybe the Manna would not come tomorrow and all will die from hunger." This would make everyone direct their hearts to heaven.

LEVITICUS 23:9-

And the Lord spoke to Moses, saying, Speak to the people of Israel, and say to them, When you come to the land which I give to you, and shall reap its harvest, then you shall bring a omer of the first fruits of your harvest to the priest; And he shall wave the omer before the Lord, to be accepted for you; on the next day after the sabbath the priest shall wave it. And you shall offer that day when you wave the omer a male lamb without blemish of the first year for a burnt offering to the Lord.

And the meal offering of it shall be two tenth deals of fine flour mixed with oil, an offering made by fire to the Lord for a sweet savor; and the drink offering of it shall be of wine, the fourth part of a hin. And you shall eat nor bread, nor parched grain, nor green ears, until the same day that you have brought an offering to your God; it shall be a statute forever throughout your generations in all your dwellings. And you shall count from the next day after the sabbath, from the day that you brought the omer of the wave offering; seven sabbaths shall be complete;

To the next day after the seventh sabbath shall you count fifty days; and you shall offer a new meal offering to the Lord.

LEVITICUS RABBA 28:2

Rabbi Pnchas said, "In our reality when a person wishes to dry his clothes during the rainy season, Look at how much effort he must expend just to dry his laundry. Yet, we see that while the world sleeps the Holy One brings forth a slight wind and dries the earth. Rabbi Avin said, "Take a look at how difficult the Omer was for Israel to perform, as it is taught, "They cut it and placed it in a box and they would bring it to the Temple court, and they would singe it over the fire in order to affirm the commandment to parch the grain, said Rabbi Meir.

The sages said: They would beat the stalks and the stems so there shouldn't be too little, and then they would put it in a perforated iron tube so that the fire would surround it and they would spread it on the floor of the temple court and the wind would blow on it and then they would bring it to the gristgrinders mill.

What was this elaborate procedure for? To produce a tenth of that which was sifted in thirteen different sieves. Rabbi Levi said: Well, you plowed, planted, hoed, reaped, piled, threshed and made huge piles of wheat. If the Holy One does not bring a little wind, to winnow the wheat, what will you live from. What you bring me is merely the price of the wind. Thus it is written: "What good does it do when a man labors for the wind.

Rabbi Shimon the son of Rebbe got married. Rebbe invited all the sages, but neglected to invite Bar Kapara. Bar Kapara wrote on Rebbe's gate, "After the party one dies, so what good is the party." Rebbe went out and saw the message. "Who didn't I invite to the party that is so upset he would write these words?" He asked. They told him it was Bar Kapara. He said, "Tomorrow I will make a feast especially for him. He made the feast and made sure to invite his honored guest. After the guests arrived, they sat down to eat. Abruptly Bar Kapara arose and recited three hundred fox fables.

Meanwhile the food got cold and the guests didn't eat anything. Rebbe asked the waiters, "Why are my guests leaving without eating? They answered, "That elderly gentleman is the reason. When the food came, he recited three hundred fox fables, and the food got cold. Rebbe went over to him and asked, "Why didn't you let my guests eat their meal? He answered, "So you won't say that I only came to eat, but that it was because you originally did not invite me to be with my friends.

YOUR MIDRASH NAVIGATOR

What does the story of Bar Kapara's fox fables have to do with counting the Omer?
Can you make a connection between what Rabbi Levi said and the story of Bar Kapara's exclusion?

Prepared by Rabbi Avi Weinstein.

In Hebrew the expression for a non-sequitur is: "How are the laws of shmitah (agricultural sabbatical laws) relevant to Mount Sinai?" The source of the expression is this week's Torah portion. The Jewish people were only a few months out of Egypt, nowhere near conquering or working the land of Israel, and Moses was instructing them on how to let the land rest after six years of working it.

What happens when someone says something completely out of context? How do people react? A moment of awkward silence? Puzzled faces wondering what provoked the comment? I would have loved to have seen the faces of the Jewish people at Mount Sinai when Moses began to transmit these laws!

Imagine the conversations: "What is he talking about? What land? Don't work the land in the seventh year - we haven't worked the land for one day! We're not anywhere near entering the land now. And what's this about the 49th year and 50th year? Letting the slaves go free? Whose slaves? We were just slaves! Proclaiming freedom in the land?! And 50 years from now?! How old will I be then? Is he talking about my kids or my grandkids? What's happened to Moses? Aren't there more pressing things to talk about - like finding water in the desert and helping us not get lost? Why doesn't he focus on the present, instead of wandering into some distant future reality that is impossible to relate to? Why doesn't he wait until we enter the land, work the land, and then tell us how to let it rest in the seventh year? Why can't he just focus on the present?"

According to the Sforno, a 15th/16th century biblical commentator, at this point Moses really thought that the Jewish people were about to enter the land of Israel. If that were the case, then the laws about the sabbatical year were important to understand now and not later.

But perhaps Moses did not really believe that the Jewish people were about to enter the land of Israel. Perhaps, Moses did not want to focus only on the present. For Moses, you couldn't understand the present unless you looked at it through the prism of the future.

A major principle in Judaism is being raised here, one that could trigger an interesting conversation with students and young people. The principle is our relationship with time - should we strive to be fully mindful in the present moment, or should our consciousness of the present be a product of our relationship with the future?

A common idea circulating in many spiritual circles is the idea of mindfulness, to be fully present in the moment. Meditation and other practices help to gather all of one's awareness and strengthen one's focus on the present moment. In Hebrew we might call this having full kavanah (intentionality). Without it, we sleepwalk through life, never fully seeing the interconnected oneness of reality.

On the other hand, this week's portion teaches us a different approach to the sanctity of time. Our awareness of this moment needs to be a function of the distant idealized future. In the distant future the shmitah cycle will be realized and the jubilee year will be celebrated. Freedom will be proclaimed. Until then, I need to live with a profound awareness of the brokenness of the world. Only when I envision an ideal world can I truly begin to understand the brokenness of the present moment and be impelled to heal the world.

Perhaps Moses' mentioning the laws of shmitah at Mount Sinai wasn't so irrelevant after all.

Prepared by Aryeh Ben David, consultant, Hillel's Joseph Meyerhoff Center for Jewish Learning

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Additional commentaries and text studies on Behar at MyJewishLearning.com.

Ten years ago, I started academic life as an environmental studies student at York University - a totally unaffiliated Jewish student, with little interest in Judaism and even less interest in Hillel. Within the first few weeks in our environmental program, we grappled with theory and new environmental paradigms with which we would explore environmental issues for the next four years. I struggled with my approach. What I was certain of, what my faculty and peers made painfully clear, was there was one approach to be discarded: an amalgamation of Western Judeo-Christian, selfish, anthropocentric values, which was responsible for this environmental catastrophe in the first place, and we would have to shed this in order to find our alternative approach to the environment. So much for the home team.

I never found a paradigm from their list. I explored everything from native traditions to eastern philosophy to eco-feminism, but none of them seemed to fit. What I did discover, three years into my degree during my first trip to Israel, was a treasure of environmental values that rested within me and within Judaism. As a Jewish environmental studies student, parshiot like Behar and the commandment of shemitah guided me in understanding my interaction with nature.

Shemitah is the commandment to allow the land to rest for one year, the seventh year, as a Sabbath. As much as we are required to work and till the land for the six other years, we are equally required to let the land lie fallow and not reap the harvest. It is a time for the land to replenish itself, just as we replenish ourselves during Shabbat. As we learn with our weekly cycle, time, and what we do within that time, is not dictated by humans. Land is given to us as time is given to us, by God, and its cycles are not ours to control but to respect. This concept of reverence for land and time, of roles and responsibilities within a natural, interconnected system that recognized a human need for work and for rest, and of a spiritual connection with the land, was the personal approach I had been seeking all along.

Parsha Behar also teaches us, "If your brother becomes impoverished...you shall strengthen him." Not your "fellow man," but "your brother." And not "to help" but "to strengthen." The power and strength of these words connects us to our fellow human beings as family and empowers us as humans with the ability and responsibility to "strengthen" that family member and family as a whole. As a student who was deeply moved by social and environmental causes and felt helpless in the face of such insurmountable challenges, learning that I had the power and responsibility to strengthen my family further inspired me in my studies and my work.

Ten years later, I find myself in a different field as a Hillel professional, inspired and motivated by many of these same lessons and the moments I learned them. As Hillel professionals, the tools of engagement are at our fingertips. Through social and environmental values like those presented in Behar, we can reach out to those students who never considered exploring their own religion for their answers. Just as in my own personal story, the foundations of one's Jewish identity or one's entry point into the Jewish community could be Judaism's approach to the environment and tikkun olam (repairing the world).

As Hillel professionals, we serve to learn one last lesson from Behar. We, too, need to allow our bodies and our minds to lie fallow and replenish during our summer months in order to ensure we reap our fullest potential on campus during the active part of our year. On that note, I wish you all a much needed and deserved rest during the summer and kol ha'kavod (kudos) on all of your achievements and accomplishments during the year.

Prepared by Tilly R. Shames, director of Israel affairs, Hillel of Greater Toronto.

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Additional commentaries and text studies on Behar at MyJewishLearning.com.

IF YOU LEAD, I WILL FOLLOW

Parshat Emor emphasizes careful regulations for the priests. To make sure that a sacrifice was acceptable, the priests had to be absolutely clean and "perfect," like their sacrifices.

Leviticus 21:1-4
And Adonai told Moses, say to the priests, the sons of Aaron, and say to them: None (among you) shall defile himself by any (dead) person who is your kin. Except for those relatives that are closest to him: mother, father, son, daughter, and brother, also for an unbetrothed sister, alone to him because she is not married, for her, he may defile himself. But he should not defile himself as a relative by marriage, and so profane himself.

Your Torah Navigator
1. Why does the Torah say that the priests should stay away from a dead person?
2. For whom does God give exceptions to the rule?
3. How might it have made the priests and their descendants feel if a priest was instructed to stay away from someone?
4. What does this rule imply about the qualities that a leader must have?

Leviticus Rabbah 26:7
Rabbi Joshua of Siknin said in the name of Rabbi Levi, "the text teaches us that the Holy One showed Moses every generation and its judges, every generation and its kings, every generation and its sages, every generation and its leaders, every generation and its lieutenants, every generation and its officers, every generation and its philanthropists, every generation and its robbers, every generation and its prophets."

Why was it necessary to show Moses every generation together with its leaders or a generation together with its philanthropists? Wasn't it enough just to see the leaders and the philanthropists?

But had Moses seen that Simchah Bunem of Prysucha, who in his later years was blind, was a leader of Israel, Moses would have been surprised and shocked. He would have cried out, "Is it possible (that a blind man could lead Israel)?"

But when Moses saw the generation, he understood that for Chasidim, like these, even Simchah Bunem was able to be a rabbi and a leader.

Your Leviticus Rabbah Navigator
1. How does this text compare to the text of Leviticus in terms of its requirements of a leader? The priests have to be perfect; does a leader?
2. What does this text say about what it takes to be a leader?
3. What does this text say about what it takes to be a follower?
4. How does this interpretation affect us in our own roles as leaders? As followers?

A Word
Leadership is important to us Jews. As leaders, we have the potential to do great good or great harm to others. Judaism responds to this terrific responsibility by teaching us, "Over these (people) does God weep daily: over the one who is able to study the Torah and does not; over the one who is unable to devote the time to Torah and study it; and over the public leader who is arrogant in his leadership." Let us remember to find humility in ourselves as leaders and in those with whom we work. As human beings, we will not be perfect, and as leaders we do not have to be.

Prepared by Rabbi Andrea Lerner, Midwest Director, Hillel's Joseph Meyerhoff Center for Jewish Learning and Campus Rabbi, University of Wisconsin.

The holidays of Passover and Shavuot are connected by a 49-day period known as the Omer. In Temple times a daily barley sacrifice was offered during this time. Although the Temple is no longer standing, there is still a commandment to count the Omer every night. This is done by indicating how many days and weeks have passed since the beginning of the period. The source for this mitzvah is in this week's Torah portion, Parshat Emor.

Leviticus chapter 22:15-16
And you shall count from the next day after the Sabbath, from the day that you brought the sheaf of the wave offering; seven Sabbaths shall be complete;

To the next day after the seventh Sabbath shall you count fifty days; and you shall offer a new meal offering to the Lord.

Your Torah navigator
1. Why do we have to count 49 days?
2. What is the signification of the seven times seven (seven weeks of seven days)?
3. Do we still have to count if we don't have a place to bring the "new meal
offering?"

Soncino Zohar, Vayikra, Section 3, Page 97b
"They were to count "for themselves", so as to be purified with supernal holy waters, and then to be attached to the King and to receive the Torah. The people had to count seven weeks. Why seven weeks? That they might be worthy to be cleansed by the waters of that stream which is called "living waters," and from which issue seven Sabbaths."

You're Zohar Navigator
1. According to the Zohar, why do we have to count "for ourselves"?
2. Why do we need to be purified?
3. How can one become purified?
4. What are the "living waters"?

A Word: I Want to Be Better
The Omer count comes at the perfect time of the year: It is spring - everything is growing, flourishing, and moving forward. The counting of the Omer gives us a similar opportunity to grow and move forward. Over the 49 days of the Omer we should look to work on and change one issue or character trait of ourselves. By taking this opportunity for self-reflection and introspection, we feel better about ourselves and the world around us. Hopefully, we also know ourselves better. We all have the desire and yearning to change ourselves and change the world. But to do this requires time: we must set goals and work diligently to achieve them. If we want to succeed in improving our self-awareness and realizing our full potential, we have to start somewhere. Counting the Omer is the perfect place.

Prepared by Rabbi Meni Even-Israel, Campus Rabbi/Jewish Educator, University of Maryland College Park.

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Additional commentaries and text studies on Emor at MyJewishLearning.com.

"And the Land shall not be sold for ever, for the land is Mine, for you are strangers and sojouners with Me."

Leviticus 25:42
"For they are My servants, whom I brought out of the land of Egypt-they may not give themselves over into slavery."

Your Torah Navigator
1. Why does the text say that the land is "Mine" (God's) if humans buy and sell land (and, indeed, the Torah gives us so many rules for such buying and selling of property)?
2. What does it mean to be both "strangers" and "sojouners" with God?
3. What is the meaning of being God's "servants"? What connection does that have with having been taken from Egypt?
4. Specifically, who is the Torah telling us may not be slaves? How do we understand the fact that this injunction is not placed on other peoples, and how do we reconcile this with our modern understanding of human liberty?

A Word
Our parshah ends with the pronouncement "You shall not make idols for yourselves, or set up for yourselves carved images or pillars, or place figured stones in your land to worship upon, for I the Lord am your God. You shall keep My Sabbaths and venerate My sanctuary, Mine, the Lord's."(Lev. 26:1-2)

In essence, this entire parshah focuses us on countering the erroneous reality that we set up for ourselves. We can worship ourselves as idols: we attribute to ourselves power and status in accordance with our wealth and with how many people are "under" us. The end of the parshah gives us pause by posing the true reality -- that it is God's laws we must ultimately follow, not our own. In the end, it is God's power that is abiding, not ours. It is to prohibit worshipping our own glory that the rules of the sabbatical and jubilee years exist. Ultimately, we do not really own the land, and we certainly do not own each other. To believe otherwise is to deal in idolatry. We act godly when we till and tend the land and care for those around us, realizing we own none of it.

Prepared by Rabbi Marsha J. Pik-Nathan, Director, Tri-College Hillel (Bryn Mawr, Haverford and Swarthmore Colleges)

Thirteen years ago this week, as part of my bat mitzvah ceremony, I chanted and then offered commentary on eleven verses from B'chukotai, the week's Torah portion. This portion is the conclusion to the book of Leviticus, in which God has just communicated the bulk of the Torah's mitzvoth (commandments) for Jewish living.

As I prepared for my bat mitzvah, I chose to focus on the first eleven lines of the portion, which proclaim the blessings and bounty we will enjoy if we live lives that embody Jewish values. Or rather, I should say that I chose to stay as far away as possible from the next section, in which God admonishes us that if we fail to fulfill the commandments, God will castigate us with assorted miserable punishments. As a committed Reform Jew, I felt my life embodied Jewish values, but I wasn't prepared to examine the ways in which my deviation from the letter of specific mitzvot and might merit curses and misery.

For those of us—and those of our students—who have solidified our enduring commitments to Jewish life, we have found myriad focal points for our relationships with Judaism. We may enjoy our weekly fill of challah and socializing at Shabbat gatherings. We may demonstrate deeply held Jewish values through advocacy or service. We may enthusiastically speak Hebrew or Yiddish together; or celebrate and advocate for Israel; or pray deeply and joyfully; or gather for text studies…

In other words, regardless of variations in literal observance of mitzvot, we are committed to Jewish life. Just as God says those who live Jewishly "will eat your fill and dwell securely in your land" (Leviticus 26:5), we are fulfilled and sustained by the richness of our Jewish lives.

Yet, as Hillel professionals it is our job to get to know students who experience Judaism differently—students who have not yet made enduring commitments to Jewish life. They are often self-conscious of the fact that Jewish commandments aren't central to their daily lives, and they fear that more actively-involved Jewish students will accuse them of being "bad Jews" (even preemptively calling themselves "bad Jews" before others can hurl that particular insult). Many of these students can relate to the thirteen-year-old bat mitzvah student who was intimidated and overwhelmed by the messages Judaism sent her.

In the Admonition section of Parashat B'chukotai, I shivered through threats of fever, wild beasts, destruction, pestilence, famine, defeat, heartsickness and more in Leviticus 26:16-39. But even though the students who hold Judaism at arm's length can't peg their fears to such specific biblical verses, their concerns are often more deep-seated than my own because they are not diluted as mine were by a milieu of positive Jewish associations. Rather, many of these students lack an adequate base of Jewish memories, knowledge, and friends to serve as their alternative Jewish focal points. To them, the intimidating stuff is all that is salient. Therefore, perceiving too daunting a hurdle to Jewish involvement, they remain unanchored by the traditions and community that are theirs by birthright.

As I read B'chukotai now, I see a few connections between the experiences of these students and the state of affairs portended in The Admonition. As consequences for lack of commitment to Jewish life, God says, "I will scatter you among the nations" (Leviticus 26:33). For those who still do not repent, "the sound of a driven leaf shall put them to flight" (Leviticus 26:36), and "…though you eat, you shall not be satisfied" (Leviticus 26:26). While I don't argue that the Diaspora is a punishment to a wayward Jewish community, it is a fact that our students' lives are substantially if not wholly integrated within secular society. In the context of this reality, students face a slew of competing messages about what their priorities, value systems, and worldviews should look like. It may not be a punishment but simply a reality that those who lack connection to a tradition that elevates one set of values and way of living above others can find themselves buffeted about like a leaf blown by wind.

As college students seek to clarify their identities, they are on a search for meaning. The wisdom in this week's Torah portion suggests that those who turn to their Jewish identities will find a wholeness and holiness that may continue to elude those who turn away from their traditions. Our job is to help the anchorless, unengaged students enrich their search for meaning through connections with Judaism. The final verses of this section of B'chukotai shed light on how to approach that task.

After declaring the multitude of possible ways to rebuke us for turning away from Judaism, God asserts that, "even then, when they are in the land of their enemies, I will not reject them or spurn them so as to destroy them, annulling My covenant with them: for I the Lord am their God" (Leviticus 26:44). In fact, Stanley T. Schickler points out in his 1997 piece in Living Torah: Selections from Seven Years of Torat Chayim that God actually invokes the covenant five times in Leviticus 26: 42-45. Schickler says, "it is as if God is emphasizing, even as the consequences get worse and worse, that the covenant still exists; it is not abrogated, no matter now sinful we are, no matter how wayward. The b'rit is always 'there for the taking,' always awaiting our return; the covenant is always there to support us."

Today's anchorless college students may not hear this message on their own. But through our relationships with students, we can facilitate students' cultivation of their own relationships with Judaism. If they feel unsafe making a commitment to Jewish life in one leap, beginning a relationship with another person is a much more manageable step. It is then incumbent upon us, as Hillel professionals, to follow in God's footsteps. We must create a relationship with each student that will always be there for the student when she turns to it. As students undertake the profound journey from disaffection to enduring commitment, it is our job to follow through every step of the way, helping them find fulfillment and sustenance.

Prepared by Robin Weber, associate for Jewish experience in the Joseph Meyerhoff Center for Jewish Learning

Learn More
Additional commentaries and text studies on Bechukotai at MyJewishLearning.com.

The Torah portion of Bechukotai includes two of the most compelling yet unnerving principles of biblical law: The first is free will. The other is reward and punishment. This portion opens with God's words to the Israelites: "If you follow my commandments (bechukotai)." If the Israelites follow God's ways, they will be rewarded with health, wealth and prosperity. If not, they will encounter anguish, destruction, poverty and starvation.

Leviticus 26:3-5, 14-18
3. If you follow My laws and faithfully observe My commandments,
4. I will grant your rains in their season, so that the earth shall yield its produce and trees of their field their fruit.
5.Your threshing shall overtake the vintage, and your vintage shall overtake the sowing; you shall eat your fill of bread and dwell securely in your land...
14. But if you do not obey Me and do not observe all these commandments,
15. if you reject My laws and spurn My rules, so that you do not observe all My commandments and you break My covenant,
16. I in turn will do this to you: I will wreak misery upon you - consumption and fever, which cause the eyes to pine and the body to languish; you shall sow your seed to no purpose, for you enemies shall eat it.
17. I will set My face against you: you shall be routed by your enemies, and your foes shall dominate you. You shall flee though none pursues.
18. And if you do not obey Me, I will go on to discipline you sevenfold for your sins. (Translation: JPS Torah Commentary, Etz Hayim)

Your Torah Navigator I
1. What are the ethical lessons we may learn from this passage?
2. Do you agree that suffering can come from failing to observe the laws of Torah?

Rashi's commentary on 26: 15
...And you break My covenant: [This means] denying the great principle of the existence of God. - Thus you have here seven sins the first of which brings the second in its train and so on to the seventh. And these are: he has not studied and therefore has not practiced the commandments: consequently he scorns others who do practice them, hates the Sages, prevents others from practicing, denies the Divine origin of the commandments, and finally denies the existence of God. (Translation: Chumash with Rashi's Commentary ed. Silberman).

Your Rashi Navigator
1. How does Rashi perceive the gravity of not following God's commandments?
2. Do you agree with Rashi's logic, does one's failure to observe parts of God's laws ultimately lead to a denial of God's existence?

Leviticus 26:41-43
41. When I, in turn have been hostile to them and have removed them into the land of their enemies, then at last shall their obdurate heart humble itself, and they shall atone for their iniquity.
42. Then will I remember My covenant with Jacob; I will also remember My covenant with Abraham; and I will remember the land.

Your Torah Navigator II
1. What criteria are required for God to remember the Covenant with Jacob and what does it mean that God will remember the Covenant?
2. What does it mean that God will remember the land?

A Word
The concept of being punished for not faithfully observing God's commandments can be troubling. History has taught us that righteous individuals often suffer for no humanly conceivable reason. The thirty-verse passage, which outlines the punishments to be meted out for disobedience is known as the Tochecha, or rebuke. Even today, when read aloud in synagogues it is customary to read the tochecha quickly and in an undertone indicating the inherently uncomfortable nature of this passage. Rabbi Bernard Bamberger, in his commentary on Leviticus (A Modern Torah Commentary. UAHC Press) suggests that while the tochecha is frightening, Bechukotai as a whole is actually a source of comfort to the modern reader. The blessings and curses are brought on by choices, and the Torah always holds open a "glimmering of hope" of new opportunities for reward and happiness. We may suffer the consequences of our choices, but we are never completely doomed by them.

While the world can seem arbitrary and overwhelming at times, Bechukotai reminds us that with free will we do have a measure of control over our destiny. Even if we cannot understand the greater mystery of the world in general, we understand that the consequences of our conduct are rarely limited to ourselves, and therefore we can try to choose wisely and responsibly. As Bamberger writes, "The question, 'Why did God let Hitler do what he did?' cannot be separated from the question, 'Why did God let Pasteur do what he did."

If we follow the commandments of Torah, the greatest of which include pursuing justice and treating one another as we would like to be treated, we improve the lot of society as a whole. No matter the failings of those who've come before us or ourselves, when we make the decision to live justly and follow God's intention, we have the power to do our share to leave the world a bit better than we found it.

Prepared by Rabbi Shena Potter, assistant director, University of Michigan Hillel.

Learn More
Additional commentaries and text studies on Bechukotai at MyJewishLearning.com.

Behar begins with the laws of Shemitah, the Sabbatical year, where the Jewish people are commanded not to plant their fields or tend to them in the seventh year. Every fiftieth year is the Yovel, the jubilee year, where agricultural activity is also prohibited.

These two commandments fall into one of the seven categories of evidence that God gave the Torah. If the idea is to give the land a rest, then do not plant one-seventh of the land each year. To command a society based on agriculture to completely stop cultivating for every seventh year, one has to be either crazy... or God.

Also included in this portion are: the ability to redeem land which was sold; to strengthen your fellow Jew when his/her economic means are lacking; not to lend money to your fellow Jew with interest; the laws of indentured servants. The portion ends with the admonition not to make idols, to observe the Shabbat and to revere the Sanctuary.The second portion for this week, Bechukotai, begins with the many blessings we will receive for keeping the commandments of the Torah. It also contains the Tochachah, words of rebuke, "If you will not listen to Me and will not perform all of these commandments..." There are seven series of seven punishments each.

G-d does not punish for punishment's sake; He wants to get us to introspect, recognize our errors and correct our ways. G-d does not wish to destroy us or cancel His covenant with us. He wants us to know that there are consequences, positive and negative, for our every action. He also wants to get our attention so that we do not stray far away, assimilate and disappear as a nation. (see Leviticus 26:14 - 45 and Deuteronomy 28.)

Torah Navigator

When you come into the land which I give you, the land shall rest a Sabbath unto God (25:2)

Why should the land rest?

A Word

The Torah states, "You shall not hurt the feelings of one another, and you shall fear the Almighty" (Leviticus 25:17).There is a profound message in this verse. There are a number of approaches that Jews take to the observance of Mitzvot. One is the Jew who is careful about performing the commandments between people and God (ben adam le'makom) but who is not as careful with the commandments about how we are to treat each other and other people (ben adam Lechavero). This is clearly problematic.

Another approach is the one taken by those who are only concerned about the commandments between people and ignore the commandments between people and G-d. This is also problematic but the ramifications are less obvious. The mitzvot were given to us as part of a Covenant and therefore implies an obligation - an obligation not only towards G-d, but also towards others. We Jews do not give charity only because we "feel like doing so" - we do so because we are obliged (and to do it in a cheerful way!). Similarly in the compassionate and sensitive way we are required to relate to all humankind - it is not dependent on how we feel today but on the degree of commitment we make to the obligation the mitzvot place upon us.This is the implication of "fear(ing) the Almighty."

Prepared by Rabbi Ian J. Azizollahoff, Executive Director, Hillel at Baruch College.

A Rabbinic look at the Sabbatical year lessons of Parshat Behar

Leviticus 25:1-17

1 YHWH spoke to Moshe at Mount Sinai, saying:

2 Speak to the Children of Israel, and say to them: When you enter the land that I am giving you, the land is to cease, a Sabbath-ceasing to YHWH.

3 For six years you are to sow your field, for six years you are to prune your vineyard, then you are to gather in its produce,

4 but in the seventh year there shall be a Sabbath of Sabbath-ceasing for the land, a Sabbath to YHWH: your field you are not to sow, your vineyard you are not to prune,

5 the aftergrowth of your harvest you are not to harvest, the grapes of your consecrated-vines you are not to amass; a Sabbath of Sabbath-ceasing shall there be for the land!

6 Now the Sabbath-yield of the land (is) for you, for eating, for you, for your servant and for your handmaid, for your hired-hand and for your resident-settler who sojourn with you;

7 and for your domestic-animal and the wild-beast that (are) in your land shall be all its produce, to eat.

8 Now you are to number yourselves seven Sabbath-cycles of years "seven years, seven times" so the time of the seven Sabbath-cycles of years will be for you (a total of) nine and forty years.

9 Then you are to give-forth (on the) .... a blast, in the seventh New-Moon, on the tenth after the New-Moon, on the Day of Atonement,

10 You are to hallow the year, the fiftieth year, proclaiming freedom throughout the land and to all its inhabitants; it shall be Homebringing for you, you are to return, each-man to his holding, each-man to his clan you are to return.

11 It is Homebringing, the fiftieth year - it shall be for you, you are not to sow, you are not to harvest its aftergrowth, you are not to gather its consecrated-grapes,

12 for it is Homebringing, holy shall it be for you, (only) from the field may you eat its produce;

13 in this Year of Homebringing you are to return, each-man to his holding.

14 NOW WHEN YOU SELL PROPERTY-FOR-SALE TO YOUR FELLOW OR PURCHASE (IT) FROM THE HAND OF YOUR FELLOW, DO NOT MALTREAT ANY-MAN HIS BROTHER!

15 By the number of years after the Homebringing you are to purchase (it) from your fellow, by the number of years of produce (left) he is to sell it to you:

16 according to the many years (left), you may charge-him-much for his purchase, according to the few years (left), you may charge-him-little for his purchase, since a (certain) number of harvests is what he is selling to you.

17 SO YOU ARE NOT TO MALTREAT ANY-MAN HIS FELLOW, RATHER, YOU ARE TO HOLD YOUR GOD IN AWE, FOR I YHWH AM YOUR GOD!

YOUR TORAH NAVIGATOR

1. We are told that in the fiftieth year, all lands that were sold by their original owners are returned to them or [presumably] their inheritors. Because of this fact, it is up to the seller of a particular property to disclose how many years are left before it automatically reverts back to the original owner. It is considered "maltreatment" to conceal this information. Why is it the seller's responsibility?

2. Why does verse 17 repeat "So you are not to maltreat any-man his fellow?"

3. Why does verse 17 insert, "you are to hold your God in awe?" Mishnah: Just as [it is illicit] to maltreat someone in business, it is also [illicit to] maltreat someone with words. One should not say, "How much does this item cost" if he does not mean to purchase it. If a person had once led a sinful life, one should not say, "Remember what you used to do." If he was the grandchild of heathens, one should not say, "Remember how your ancestors behaved." As it is written: "You shall not maltreat the stranger, and you should not oppress him." (Exodus 22:20)

YOUR MISHNAH NAVIGATOR: Ona'at Devarim, the mitzvah of sensitivity

The word "ona'ah" (translated as maltreat) is used in two contexts, the financial and the personal. Just as price gouging is considered "ona'ah", so, too, are the examples elucidated in the Mishnah above. If one price gouges one is taking unfair advantage over another. How does this form of ona'ah relate to the "ona'ah" where one asks the store clerk the price of something he has no intention to purchase? Now, what do these examples have in common with the person who makes another recall the sins of his past?

Can we come up with a working definition of Ona'ah? The Gemara which comments and expands upon the Mishnah opens its discussion with an alternative tradition which was excluded from the Mishnah, but was recorded at the same time. When Rabbi Yehudah Hanassi compiled the mishnah there were many rabbinic discussions that were excluded from his collection.

Often times the later editors of the Talmud will bring those discussions which may either complement, expand, or take issue with what was stated in the Mishnah. This extra mishnaic material is called a Beraitha. Take a look at the Beraitha's explication of the verse "Do not aggrieve one another." Compare the examples listed in the Beraitha with the Mishnah and continue to create a definition of Ona'ah. (Now, remember those verses in Leviticus - The Talmud is about to deal with them.)

Gemara: The rabbis taught: "Do not maltreat one another..." (Leviticus 25:17 Is the verse referring to aggrieving someone with words or is it referring to aggrieving someone in business? When an [earlier] verse states, "When you sell to your neighbor, or buy property from him [do not maltreat one another.]" (Ibid:14) Here it is clear the context is referring to business, so therefore the other verse must teach us about aggrieving someone with words...

YOUR NAVIGATOR OFFERS A HINT Look up the verses and see them in their original context. Why do the rabbis assume that the verse in Levitcus 25:17 cannot be referring to business practices?

Now, back to the Beraitha. Gemara cont'...How does one maltreat someone with words? If the person had a sinful past, don't say to him, "Remember how you used to behave." If he was the child of converts, don't say to him, "Remember, how your ancestors behaved. If he, himself, was a convert who had come to learn Torah, don't say to him, "The mouth that once feasted on forbidden foods is coming to learn the Torah that was uttered from the mouth of the Mighty One?

Or, if someone fell ill, or he had buried a child, don't speak to him in the way that Job's friends spoke to him. As it is written: "Is not your piety your confidence, your integrity your hope? Think now what innocent man ever perished..." (Job 4:6-7)

If donkey drivers asked a person for straw, he should not tell them to "Go to so and so's for he sells straw for animals."--when he knows that the person has never sold it. Rabbi Yehuda says: One should not even cast his eyes on a purchase if he does not have the cash on hand, for this is something that is only known in the heart, and everything that cast his eyes on a purchase if he does not have the cash on hand, for this is something that is only known in the heart, and everything that remains in the heart bears the injunction, "[Do not aggrieve one another] and you shall fear the Lord your God..." (Leviticus 25:17)

YOUR TALMUD NAVIGATOR AGAIN As the Talmud struggles to give us a definition of ona'ah, it brings statements from many different rabbis, do these statements complement or contradict each other? The following Talmudic passage segues from defining ona'ah to a related issue. Note when that transition occurs. After they deal with the related issue they return to our issue of ona'ah. Note when you return to our issue of ona'ah.

The gemara is sequenced associatively, much the way our minds work naturally. When we're tooling down the highway, we start with one thought and then gradually go to the next...and the next...and the next...until...finally...you say, "How'd I start thinking about that?"

Rabbi Shimon Bar Yochai said: "Maltreatment of someone with words is worse than maltreatment of someone in business. For when the verse is referring to business, the verse does not enjoin us to fear the Lord while when the verse refers to maltreating someone with words, it also tells us to fear the Lord. Rabbi Elazar said: "Maltreatment with words harms the body, while maltreatment in business only harms his property." Rav Nachmani said, "One is possible to respond to while the other is not possible to respond to."

The Tana taught before Rabbi Yitzchak: "Anyone who blanches the face [humiliates] of his fellow in public, is seen to have spilled his blood." Rabbi Yitzchak said, "Well spoken, For I have seen the redness drain from a person's face and he becomes pale." Abayye said to Rav Dimi: "What are they most careful about in the west [in Israel]?" He said to him: "Making a face blanch. For Rabbi Hanina said:

"Everyone goes to Gehennom except for three." "Does he really mean everyone goes to Gehennom?" Rather he must mean everyone who does go to gehennom ascends from there except for three, and these are the three:

Anyone who has relations with another man's wife.
Anyone who humiliates a person in public.
Anyone who calls someone by a disparaging nickname.

Isn't calling someone by a disparaging nickname, the same as humiliating him? Even if the name has become so familiar [that it no longer blanches the face of the person.]...Mar Zutra Bar Tuvia said in the name of Rav, although some think it was Rav Chana Bar Bizna said it in the name of Rabbi Yochanan in the name of Rabbi Shimon Bar Yochai: "It is better that one would throw himself into a furnace than humiliate another in public.

How do we know this? From Tamar, as it is written: [About three months later, Judah was told, "Your daughter-in-law Tamar has played the harlot; in fact, she is with child by harlotry." "Bring her out," said Judah, "and let her be burned."] As she was being brought out, she sent this message to [only] her father-in-law... (Genesis 38:25)

Rav Hanana the son of Rav Iddi said: Why is it written: "Do not maltreat one another..." (Leviticus 25:17) Do not maltreat him with the way you carry your Torah [study] and [your adherence to] the commandments. Rav said, "Let a man be careful about maltreating his wife, for when she cries, she is close to having been maltreated.

Rabbbi Elazar said: When the Temple was destroyed the gates of prayer were locked, as it is written: "Even when I cry out and wail, my prayer has been blocked." (Lamentations 3:7) But even though the gates of prayer have been locked the gates of tears have not been, as it is written: "Hear my prayer, O Lord; give ear to my cry; do not disregard my tears." (Psalms 39:13)

Prepared by Rabbi Avi Weinstein.

This week, we close the book of Leviticus by reading the final two portions, B'har and B'chukotai. We learn in B'har that we must observe the laws of shmitah, allowing the land to observe a sabbath every seventh year just as people do each week. Furthermore, a yovel, or jubilee, occurs every fiftieth year in which land is returned to its owner and slaves are freed. Lest we think that after years of tilling the ground, we humans are the owners of the land, God clearly states, "the land is Mine; you are but strangers resident with Me." [Leviticus 25:23] What will happen if we don't remember this? What are the consequences of disobeying God's laws concerning the land?

The final portion of Leviticus, B'chukotai, unequivocally provides the answer with verses that are reminiscent of the second paragraph after the recitation of the Shema: "If you follow My laws and faithfully observe My commandments, I will grant your rains in their season, so that the earth shall yield its produce and the trees of the field their fruit." [Lev.26:3-4] "You shall give chase to your enemies, and they shall fall before you by the sword" [26:7] "But if you do not obey me and do not observe all these commandments... I in turn will do this to you: I will wreak misery upon you - consumption and fever, which cause the eyes to pine and the body to languish; you shall sow your seed to no purpose, for your enemies shall eat it...your land shall not yield its produce, nor shall the trees of the land yield their fruit." [26:14, 16, 20]

This system of divine reward and punishment is sometimes called "retribution theology". It presupposes that any pain humans experience is the result of a divine plan. If life isn't going well, we must have deserved it. This is a powerful thread throughout the Torah, though it may not resonate with some contemporary Jewish readers. Some believe that such a theology served to exonerate God since asking, "Why do righteous people suffer?" introduced unsolvable theological quandaries. This manner of explaining pain in the world served to assign a meaning to suffering. Unfortunately, such passages have often been quoted throughout history to blame victims of disease for their own misfortune and to justify the actions of oppressors by pointing to the supposed moral flaws of the downtrodden. In our own recent history, the victims of the Holocaust sometimes have even been blamed for their own demise.

Your Torah Navigator

1. Sometimes we hear that, "Everything that goes around, comes around," or "As you sow, so shall you reap". Have you found this to ring true in your life? Why or why not?
2. Does the fear of divine retribution help you to behave justly in your life? If not, what does inspire you?
3. Why do you think it was so important in biblical Israel that rains fell in their proper season? Are we as dependent on rains as our ancestors were?

Is it possible to read these verses not as literal statements about divine reward and punishment but as a reminder that we do, indeed, affect our natural world with our actions? A little later in our portion, we are given a clue as to how we can understand retribution theology in contemporary, environmental terms. We read that if we do not obey the laws concerning the years of rest for the land, God will force us to grant it a sabbath. "Then shall your land make up for its sabbath years throughout the time that it is desolate... it shall observe the rest that it did not observe while you were dwelling upon it." [Lev.26:34-35]

In fact, we are currently experiencing the repercussions of our actions. In many ways, we could say that the earth is rebelling against our mistreatment of it, not allowing us to reap its benefits. Judith Plaskow writes that, "if we are aware that we are embedded in a great web of life of which God is the ultimate source and sustainer, then the earth will bear fruit for us and the rain will come in its season. But if we believe we can trample on or transcend the constraints of nature... 'The earth will not grant its produce,' and both we and our world may perish." [excerpted from Lawrence Hoffman's, My People's Prayer Book, Vol.I] She and many other contemporary Jewish thinkers are reminding us of God's words near the close of the book of Leviticus, "The land is Mine; you are but strangers resident with Me".

Prepared by Rabbi Mychal Rosenbaum, Associate Director of Jewish Student Life, UCLA Hillel.

B'Chukotai is the last Torah portion of the Book of Leviticus. This year it comes at a time when many schools are in the last weeks of the academic year. My comments will tie these two endings together.

I will, therefore, pass over the penultimate chapter of the book, chapter 26, with its contrast between the blessings that accrue from living a good life, and the dire - I should say terrifying - consequences, physical and psychological, of behavior that is consistently thoughtless, selfish and inadequate. Warning: Do not read those curses (called "the Tochechah" in Hebrew) on a full stomach.

I want to focus on the final chapter, No. 27, that closes Leviticus. Here, after a whole book about holiness and purity, we get into money matters, specifically how the sanctuary, the repository of God's glory, is to be funded. We are given the details of an elaborate system of pledges and contributions of silver and in-kind gifts.

So is that what it all comes down to: funding and fundraising? Isn't this a rather venal way to end a book about holiness?

I think not. It could be that the Torah, in concluding the Book of Leviticus in just this way, is telling us something we ignore at our peril, that money and holiness can be related. The sanctuary of old did not run on air and goodwill, and neither do the contemporary institutions that house our collective spiritual endeavors. That, literally, is the bottom line of the Book of Leviticus.

Now in contributing to the upkeep of the sanctuary, a primary method was to pledge the value of oneself, "the equivalent of a human being." (27:2) How much was that? Leviticus (27: 3-7) indicates a scale, a scale based on age and gender. The JPS Commentary (Numbers, p. 193) lays it out as thus:

Age	Male	Female
20 - 60 years of age	50 shekels	30 shekels
5 - 20 years of age	20 shekels	10 shekels
1 month - 5 years of age	5 shekels	3 shekels
older than 60	15 shekels	10 shekels

A story is told of Menahem Nahum of Chernobyl. Once, on Shabbat Behukotai, he was given an aliah. As you know, it is always a great honor to read from the Torah and a great honor to be called up for an aliah. Yet, many Jews are so afraid of the tokhahah, the curses, in this parsha (Vayikra,26:14-46) that they shy away from these honors when this section is read.

In many places, it is the rabbi who reads this section, and in fact, that Shabbat, it was the Baal Shem Tov himself who was reading the tokhahah, the curses in the Torah reading. Still, Menahem felt uncomfortable. Why, dafka, did he have to be given an aliah for this section? Yet, as Menahem listened to the Besht read, a strange thing happened. One might expect the atmosphere to grow heavier and heavier as curses piled one upon the other.

However, just the opposite happened. As every curse was read, as every curse was uttered, instead the atmosphere grew lighter. In fact, even the physical pains and discomforts that had often plagued Menahem seemed to feel better and better. The Baal Shem Tov showed that by saying the words, by uttering these phrases, the pain was lifted and became easier to bear. (Ituray Torah, vol. 4, p. 154, English version in "Sparks Beneath the Surface" by L. Kushner and K. Olitzky).

I find that this is often the case in my work at Hillel. Sometimes we are afraid to state a problem, to acknowledge it out loud, for fear that speaking the words will make it so real, so serious, so weighty, that we won't be able to deal with it. Yet often, the very opposite is true. It is the problem that goes unstated, unacknowledged, that really turns into a curse.

When I am counseling a student, or someone comes to me with a story that is really troubling, a deep conflict with family or friends, a loss or a very hard transition, one of the first things I do is simply acknowledge, out loud, how difficult or painful the situation is. I'll often say to a student, "You're not missing anything.

This is really hard. You have reason to be so upset." It's surprising that many times by simply naming the curse, you can lift some of its power. Speaking the curse out loud then sets the stage and enables you to move on to talk productively about plans, strategies and solutions.

This happens in organizational settings as well. I've often seen people go out of their way to avoid naming and dealing with the real problems that cause discord in a group. Sometimes, students are so scared of conflict or have so little trust that they have the skills to work through problems that they avoid naming the issue, hoping it will disappear. It seldom does.

Curses tend to retain their power when uttered in the dark and repeated in secret. As staff, we can play an important role by helping students name and raise issues that cause conflict within a group. Sharing our stories, our perspective and experience of conflicts worked through and productively resolved is a great gift we can give to our students.

We live in an unredeemed world. While we have many blessings, we live with curses as well. Reading this parsha can remind us that there is a time to say those curses out loud, confront them and dissipate their power.

Prepared by Rabbi Jeffrey Summit, Tufts University

The double parshiyyot of Behar and Behukottai continue the quest for holiness through God's law which are the hallmark of the Book of Leviticus which they conclude (Leviticus 25:1-26: 2 and 26:3-27:34). Following the recitation of Leviticus 27:34, we will chant "Hazak, hazak, venithazek," "May we go from strength to strength." This traditional declaration marks the conclusion of reading each book of the Torah. Once a an expression of support for the Torah reader himself at the end of each aliyah, it now marks our transition as we shift from the strength we derive from reading one book to the strength we will derive from the next.

Leviticus 26:11
I will set my dwelling in your midst and my soul will not abhor you. (Lev. 26:11)

Your Torah Navigator
This verse is sandwiched between the laws of the sabbatical and jubilee, with relevance to agriculture and commerce, and the curse (Tokhehah) which is to befall us if we fail to live up to not only those laws, but all the laws which have been given until this point. The sabbatical rules, with their sensitivity to both the environment and human beings, and the brief blessings of Leviticus 26:3-13, pale in the shadow of the extensive and frightening punishment which awaits our downfall (Leviticus 26:14-45 and also Deuteronomy 28:15-68).

1. Is it really a blessing to be told you won't be hated? What does this suggest to us about not only what we say, but the way in which we say it?
2. God's Soul? What a remarkable reference! Do you think God has a soul? What would its nature/purpose be? Why is this the way God is referred to here?
3. What does this suggest about the manifestation of the Divine Presence? Can God be present if there is no designated dwelling place?
4. How does this serve as a bridge between the rules and the consequences? Is it more than just a cause and effect relationship?

A Word
Kedoshim tihiyu ki kadosh ani adonai – You shall be holy, because I the Lord your God am Holy. Admittedly, this verse opens a parashah which we have already read this year, Parashat Kedoshim, just two weeks ago. In the spirit of eyn mukdam v'eyn m'uhar ("there is nothing earlier and nothing later" – that chronology is suspended in the Bible), I'd like to suggest that this relationship between God and humanity is essentially relevant here. As we strive to understand the nature and the purpose of our soul, guidance in understanding God's Soul would be eminently helpful.

Only that guidance is lacking. Rabbi Shlomo Riskin suggests that God's Soul is that which is revealed to us in the Torah, that the Torah in its entirety is the open window into God's Essence. Generally speaking, though, when we consider God, the notion of soul never enters the picture.

In his book God in Search of Man, Abraham Joshua Heschel draws out the notion that from the time of Eden, God has sought us out. The question "Ayeka?," "Where are you?," which God poses to Adam appears to be rhetorical. Can it truly be that God does not know where Adam is? Does God mean the words as they are being used? Wrote Heschel: "It is a call that goes out again and again. It is a still small echo of a still, small voice, not uttered in words, not conveyed in categories of mind, but ineffable and mysterious as the glory that fills the whole world. It is wrapped in silence; concealed and subdued, yet it is as if all things were the frozen echo of the question: Where art thou?" God is in search of a soul-mate, a relationship that goes beyond words.

The Babylonian Talmud, on Berakhot 6a, explains that like us, God wears tefillin. Where our tefillin hold the words Shema Yisrael – "Hear, O Israel, the Lord our God, the Lord is One" – God's tefillin are home to a different verse, Umik'amkha Yisrael – "Who is like your people Israel, a singular nation in the land." Our deepest yearning and God's deepest yearning meet in the same place.

If we are to be holy because God is holy, if we are to be God-like because we are made in God's image, we may not need to define God's Soul. We may be able to look deeply into our own souls to search for God, finding God's Soul mirrored therein. Bilvavee mishkan evneh says the song, "In my heart I will build a dwelling." God will reside wherever we let God in. And we will fulfill our mandate for holiness when we are mindful of God's words.

We stand now roughly half-way between Pesah and Shavuot, roughly half-way between the allegorical love of Shir HaShirim (Song of Songs) and the devotion and commitment of the Book of Ruth. From this vantage point we should be able to hear God's question calling out to our very souls. How will we answer?

Prepared by Rabbi Elyse Winick, KOACH Assistant Director.

Learn More
Additional commentaries and text studies on Behar and Bechukotai at MyJewishLearning.com.

Jeremiah 16:19-17:14

Our Torah portion this week, Behukotai, is the last Parsha of Leviticus. Behukotai ends with the Tochahah, a warning, promising defeat, massacre, and the pain of exile, if one disobeys God.

Jeremiah, a prophet who wrote during the closing days of the Kingdom of Judah struggled to find meaning during the time of the destruction of the Temple. We hear his words in our Haftarah portion this week. In his bitterness he cried: The guilt of Judah will be inscribed with a stylus of iron... (Jeremiah 17:1)

Despite all that he saw, Jeremiah expressed deep faith that God is the living water that sustains us all. He wrote, "He shall be like a tree planted by waters, sending forth its roots by a stream: It does not sense the coming of heat, its leaves are ever fresh; it has no care in a year of drought, it does not cease to yield fruit." (Jeremiah 17:8)

Your Haftarah Navigator
1. According to Jeremiah, who is like a tree planted by waters?
2. How does faith in God help us through difficult times?
3. In your experience, have you turned to God, to prayer, to faith when life was difficult?

Jeremiah experienced tumultuous times. He was a sensitive soul who saw it all. Destruction. Defeat. Hopelessness. And yet, Jeremiah was also able to find within himself his hope, his faith that rose from the deep recesses of his heart.

The following text, expanded, became one of the nineteen blessings in our Amidah. Jeremiah saw much of life. Still, the Haftorah ends with a hopeful note, "Heal me, O Lord, and let me be healed; save me, and let me be saved; for You are my glory." (Jeremiah 17:14)

Your Haftarah Navigator
1. What is the relationship between prayer and healing? What does God have to do with healing?
2. Have you ever prayed for someone who is ill? Does it work? What is the purpose of a prayer for healing?

A Word
This is indeed a sobering text. Jeremiah understood Jewish suffering as something that was deserved. A rebellious people are finally punished by a God whose patience has finally run out.

Thousands of years after Jeremiah, we human beings still experience these evils: defeat, pain, suffering. We experience the devastation of illness, the pain of a breakup of a family. Today, though, most of us do not see these tragedies as punishment for our sins.

Conversely, many people wonder at these moments of pain and disappointment if God is indeed there at all. The question of today is different. We ask ourselves, "How does one continue to believe, to let God in, when such devastation surrounds us at times?" Pain can harden one's heart. It can make a person cynical, mistrustful of others.

These days of May and early June are the in-between days -- days of reflection and sadness between Pesach and Shavuot. Why? Because during these days we commemorate the years of wandering in the wilderness. The years between our freedom from Pharaoh and our receiving the gift of Torah at Mt. Sinai.

During those years we were lawless. We had no Torah. We had too much freedom. Instead of it being a wonderful party, it was awful. We complained bitterly. The law, as the midrash learns, brought true freedom to the world, a freedom that we could sustain.

For those of us in the northern hemisphere, these days of May and June also mean that the summer warmth is coming. Some of us feel relief, now that the academic year is ending, granting us a liberation from the constraints of imposed order. Now, as summer approaches, we experience the freedom without laws. We feel rootless.

Maintaining faith in difficult times is a struggle for each of us. And yet, Jeremiah's beautiful, poetic words strike a chord for us, who want so desperately to feel God's presence beside us as we struggle. Jeremiah offers these words of consolation and hope, describing that a person who has faith in God can survive even the toughest times.

Lag B'Omer, a holiday day which is a reprieve in our 50 days of mourning between Pesach and Shavuot, occurred earlier this week. In the spirit of Lag B'Omer, let us feel the reprieve of the water around us, soothing our roots, caring for our leaves. And may we soon yield fruit again. As Jeremiah says, "Heal me, O Lord, and let me be healed. Save me, and let me be saved. For you are my glory."

Parsha Bechukotai ends the book of Leviticus. When the Torah reading is completed, it is customary for the congregation to chant, "Chazak, chazak, v'nithazek." Be Strong. Be Strong. And let us be strengthened by one another.

So may it be.

Prepared by Rabbi Andrea Lerner, Midwest Director of Hillel's Joseph Meyerhoff Center for Jewish Learning and Campus Rabbi, Hillel at the University of Wisconsin.