Parashat Vayikra is the first portion of the book of Vayikra/Leviticus. It begins with God instructing Moses to describe five types of sacrifices to the Israelites. The text describes the procedures for the people and the priests to follow and the part of the sacrifice which is to go to Aaron and his sons.
Gil Troy is Professor of History at McGill University in Montreal, and the author of Why I Am a Zionist: Israel, Jewish Identity and the Challenges of Today.
Is there any other book of the Bible that has been so ill-served by its English name as the Torah's third book? "Leviticus" sounds restrictive and aristocratic, referring to the priestly class's numbingly nuanced laws. The title "Leviticus" also evokes the traditional Christian critique of Judaism as a "pots and pans" religion, obsessed with ritualistic minutiae rather than faith, morality, or love. By contrast, the Hebrew name of the book – and of its opening parsha – Vayikra, "and He called", is sweeping, powerful, majestic.
"And He Called", or "The Call", is a logical step in the Torah's progression. We begin with Genesis, the start of the world and the Jewish journey. We next experience Exodus (a grander title than Shemot, names), celebrating the Jews' national liberation from slavery in Egypt. Then, we build to The Call, God's charge to the Jewish people. The medieval French commentator Rashi teaches that before any commandment came the call – for without the call, no message could be delivered. The Rabbis teach that in the text Moses hears the call but it actually comes through Moses to the Jewish people. We should take the call personally; each of us trying to be as worthy as Moses to hear and heed God's charge.
Now, to moderns, and especially to Editorial Jews, who read Jewish texts seeking what does not resonate for them today, what follows is disappointing, even alienating. Who needs details about animal sacrifices when we have been praying for centuries? But those of us who heed the call, or at least want to learn from the text, can learn valuable lessons.
For instance, the third chapter begins talking about "Zevach Shlaymim", a feast peace-offering. This sacrifice does not atone for sins, nor thank for particular blessings. These sacrifices are gifts of gratitude to God with what we would call "no strings attached". Rashi links the world "shlaymim" to "shalom", that magical Hebrew word of greeting and peace, because such altruistic gifts increase the world’s harmony. The medieval Spanish commentator Ramban, Nachmanides, links the word with "shlemut", wholeness, because this sacrifice seeks fulfilment, completeness, with God and the world.
Imagine what the world would be like if we answered God's call by making as many peace sacrifices, as many wholeness gifts, as possible. Birthright Israel would not stand out as a rare "no strings attached" gift from one generation to the next, in this case, free Israel trips to young adults. President Barack Obama would not have to single out in his first Joint Address to Congress Leonard Abess, Jr., a Florida banker who quietly distributed $60 million from his own pocket to hundreds of employees when he sold his bank. And the spirit of voluntarism, which thrives in some communities but is withering elsewhere, would be universal.
The leap from the ancient ritual of "Zevach Shlaymim" to the modern mitzvah of donating time and money is not great. It only requires the essentials involved in heeding the Torah's call, an open mind and an open heart.
The very detailed description both of the Mishkan's contents and of the services to be performed there is quite boring for most Bible readers. But, as suggested by Rabbi Saul Berman, one likely reason for the great detail is to deter future priests from claiming divine sanction to solicit ever-increasing donations from the people to further beautify G-d's Mishkan. By specifying precisely, in a document available to everyone, what G-d wants inside the Mishkan, the Torah helps to prevent the possibility of future corruption.
In addition, Rav Moshe Feinstein explains that Moshe was the most well known and respected Jew, renowned for his righteousness. But despite all this, Moshe did not hesitate to make a public audit of all of the donations made to the Mishkan to show that he did not keep anything for himself. Moshe did not want anyone to have the potential opportunity to think he did anything even slightly inappropriate.
We can learn here, from Moshe's example that sometimes it is necessary to go above and beyond the call of duty in justifying our actions. We must recognize that people may suspect impropriety (especially when it comes to work in the community or public sector), even if there is none. To be in a high position/status comes with responsibility and accountability. It was a shortfall in these qualities that lead to the destruction of the Batei Mikdash.
Coby is a long-time volunteer with Limmud UK and Limmudfest.