Being in control: Vayikra 5785

The book of Vayikra, which we begin to read this Shabbat, contains very little narrative. This book is also called Torat Kohanim since it features the laws of the Mishkan service, the duties of the Kohanim, the laws of ritual purity, and the detailed descriptions of the sacrifices offered in the Mishkan. 

To many people these laws are anachronistic, if not completely unintelligible in the context of our present world. Yet every word of the Torah has eternal value for all at any given moment in human time. I think that it is obvious that the Torah here shows us that there is a world that requires sacrifices and is somehow influenced by offering those sacrifices. It is also a world where ritual purity matters greatly and profoundly influences human society. In this alternative world that we sense and sometimes even glimpse, the chumash of Vayikra reigns supreme. In that basically unseen world, every law of Vayikra is vitally relevant. 

The chumash of Vayikra comes to remind us of our limitations, both mental and spiritual, and that we must be able to accept that we cannot always fathom God’s motives in telling us how to behave in a certain fashion. This book is not meant to confuse and unnerve us. Rather, it is meant to humble us. 

Human beings always wish to be in control. But life blindsides at unexpected moments and in unpredictable ways. Life’s experiences only reveal to us how powerless and irrational we really are. There is very little that we can actually control. 

Human beings long for solutions and answers that emanate from the occult—from another world of being, the existence of which we are only dimly aware. So here we have the rub. The Torah is unalterably opposed to magic, superstitions, and appeals to spirits. So how do we square that strict approach with the presence of laws in Vayikra that clearly on the existence of another, unseen world rely for their relevance and strength of purpose? 

The answer lies in our understanding that all the words of the Torah are to be taken at face value and that the ultimate reason for obedience to them derives from the fact that we are commanded to do so. Many times the correct answer to the ubiquitous question of “Why?” is “Because!” Parents frequently apply this technique while attempting to raise their children in a proper fashion. The Lord for His own reasons, so to speak, employs this same method when dealing with the Jewish people who had already previously pledged allegiance to the Torah and its values. The chumash Vayikra is a prime example of this axiom of Jewish life. 

Shabat shalom, Rabbi Berel Wein 

Korbanot -- the meaning and the mystery

In this thought-provoking piece, Rabbi Paul Bloom throws some highly relevant light on the concept and practice of ritual sacrifices in the Mishkan and Beit HaMikdash.

A Small Reminder

Our Sages of blessed memory refer to the Book of Vayikra as Torat Kohanim ("The Law of the Priests"), as it primarily deals with the laws of sacrifices, which were performed by the kohanim. The very first word of Parashat Vayikra sets the tone for the entire book:

“ויקרא אל־משה וידבר ה אליו מאהל מועד לאמר”
 

"And He called to Moshe, and Hashem spoke to him from the Tent of Meeting, saying" (Vayikra 1:1).

A well-known peculiarity of this verse is the small alef (א) in the word Vayikra (ויקרא). Many commentators understand this as a symbol of Moshe's humility—despite his unparalleled sanctity and closeness to Hashem, he sought to minimize his own importance. However, the Zohar offers a radically different perspective. According to the Tosafot HaZohar (quoted in Itturei Torah, vol. 3, p. 7), the small alef signifies imperfection. Why? Because this Divine calling took place in the Mishkan (Tabernacle), which was situated outside the Land of Israel. True perfection, the Zohar teaches, can only be found in Eretz Yisrael.

This idea is striking. Was there ever a time in history when the Jewish people experienced a more intimate relationship with Hashem than during their forty years in the wilderness? They were enveloped by Heavenly clouds, sustained by manna, and led by Moshe Rabbeinu himself. Most significantly, they had a portable Beit HaMikdash, the Mishkan, where they could offer sacrifices and connect directly with God. Yet, despite these miracles, something was missing. The Jewish people were in the wrong environment. Only in Eretz Yisrael—where they would work the land, wage wars, and engage in the struggles of physical existence—could their avodat Hashem reach its full potential.

This lesson resonates powerfully today. Many Jews feel deeply fulfilled in their spiritual lives outside of Eretz Yisrael. Baruch Hashem, vibrant communities thrive in the Diaspora, boasting yeshivot, Torah institutions, and extraordinary chesed organizations. Yet, the Zohar reminds us that even the most elevated existence in Chutz LaAretz is inherently lacking. If the generation of the desert, who lived under direct Divine protection, still fell short because they were outside of Eretz Yisrael, how much more so must we recognize the importance of returning to our true spiritual home.

Thus, the small alef at the beginning of Vayikra serves as a subtle but powerful reminder: our ultimate goal is to serve Hashem in utter perfection—in His Chosen Land.

Korbanot: A Bridge Between Heaven and Earth

With this understanding of Vayikra’s opening words, we can better appreciate the role of korbanot. The Torah immediately introduces us to this world:

"Adam ki yakriv mikem korban laHashem" (Vayikra 1:2)

"When a man among you brings an offering to Hashem."

From this point forward, the Torah details the various offerings, their procedures, and their spiritual significance.

On one level, korbanot are deeply familiar to us. From the days of Kayin and Hevel to Avraham's offering of Yitzchak, from the korban Pesach in Egypt to the sacrifices in the Mishkan, korbanot played a central role in Jewish worship. Yet, on another level, they remain an enigma. The physical actions—slaughtering an animal, sprinkling its blood, burning its flesh—seem foreign to our modern spiritual sensibilities. How did this serve as an uplifting experience? This is a question for Eliyahu HaNavi and Mashiach to explain when the time comes. For now, we continue to study Torah, whose messages are eternal. Each generation uncovers new depths of understanding, and korbanot are no exception.

The Universal Message of "Adam"

One striking feature in the opening verses is the use of the word "Adam" rather than the more common "Ish" (man). Why "Adam"? This word holds profound meaning. First, it is a reference not only to an individual but to all of humanity, recalling Adam HaRishon. Additionally, "Adam" is encoded with deeper significance:

●      Aleph represents Hashem, the infinite One.

●      Dam means blood, the physical life force.

Man is thus a fusion of the divine and the earthly.

The Arizal further explains that "Adam" is an acronym for three fundamental aspects of Avodat Hashem:

●      Aleph – Emunah (Faith): Strengthening one’s belief in Hashem.

●      Daled – Dibur (Speech): Using speech properly in Torah, tefillah, and relationships.

●      Mem – Ma’aseh (Action): Performing mitzvot and righteous deeds.

The use of "Adam" also teaches another powerful lesson: korbanot were not exclusively for Jews. The Gemara (Menachot 73b) states that a God-fearing non-Jew could bring voluntary sacrifices. The Beit HaMikdash was called "Beit Tefillah le’chol ha’amim", a house of prayer for all nations (Yeshayahu 56:7). Shlomo HaMelech, in his inaugural speech for the Beit HaMikdash, acknowledged that non-Jews who sought to pray and offer korbanot were welcome.bThis universal invitation highlights the korbanot as a bridge between humanity and Hashem, emphasizing that all people can strive for holiness.

The Tamid Offering: A Lesson in Constancy

Among all the korbanot, the Korban Tamid stands out. Each day, without exception, began with the morning Tamid and ended with the afternoon Tamid. This concept of constancy—temidut—has deep significance. Rabbi Moshe Isserles (the Rema), in his commentary on the Shulchan Aruch, emphasizes two core themes:

1. Emunah – The opening words of the Shulchan Aruch cite "Shiviti Hashem lenegdi tamid", that Hashem should always be before us.
   
   
2. Simcha – The final words quote "Tov lev mishteh tamid", that one with a good heart is always celebrating.

These two constants—faith and joy—parallel the two Tamid offerings. No matter what challenges arise, a Jew’s foundation remains rooted in emunah in Hashem and simcha in the privilege of serving Him. Even though we do not bring korbanot today, these two principles guide our daily avodah. Our lives must be anchored in faith, and our service of Hashem must be infused with joy.

As we enter the month of Nissan, the month of redemption, may we merit to see the rebuilding of the Beit HaMikdash and the restoration of the korbanot. Until then, we continue to draw inspiration from their eternal lessons, deepening our faith and joy in serving Hashem—in Eretz Yisrael, our true spiritual home.

The Healing Haggadah: a new approach to the Pesach seder service

Last month Beit Knesset Hanassi hosted the launch of The Healing Haggadah: Passing Over Trauma, by Rabbi Michael Friedman. The author, a seventh-generation rabbi, licensed professional counselor, and educator, is eminently qualified to write on this delicate and sensitive topic, being the co-founder and Wellness Rabbi of Nafshi, a non-profit organization that blends Torah-based principles with holistic psychological and emotional wellness. Through Nafshi, he helps individuals to achieve spiritual and emotional balance using Jewish wisdom and modern psychology.

This is what Mosaica, the publisher, has to say about the book:

The Healing Haggadah: Passing Over Trauma offers a unique, experiential, and therapeutic approach to the Pesach Seder, guiding individuals and communities in processing collective and personal trauma. Through the lens of the Exodus story, Rabbi Michael Friedman, M.Ed., LPC, weaves psychological insights with Torah wisdom, making the themes of yetzias Mitzrayim deeply personal and transformative.

Rooted in traditional Torah commentary and modern psychology, this Haggadah empowers readers to identify their inner struggles, confront their personal Mitzrayim, and find redemption through the timeless lessons of the Seder night.

As one might expect from a book that is relatively slender and comfortably affordable, it is not a learned heavyweight tome addressed to scholars. Nor is it a list of superficial suggestions and generalised prescriptions for brushing off trauma and getting on with life as if trauma has had no effect. Rather, its function is to alert and sensitise readers to the way the text of the Haggadah alludes to the collective trauma of the Jewish people and offers paths by which our long-traumatised people can develop a resilience and a positive attitude that transforms us from victims to lead actors in the unscripted drama that is the history of the Jewish people.

Rabbi Friedman has kindly donated a copy of The Healing Haggadah to Beit Knesset Hanassi. You can find it downstairs in the library of our Beit Midrash.

The Wicked Son -- not who you think he is!

No, these two illustrations are not authoritative portraits of the Wicked Son who features so powerfully in our Haggadah shel Pesach! They are artificial and imaginative conjectures composed by the current must-use online tool, AI (artificial intelligence). There is nothing artificial however about the concept of the child who has veered "off the derech" and who appears to be at odds with his family, his faith and Jewish society in general.

Rabbi Kenigsberg tackled this sensitive topic over a selection of fresh and tasty bagels in this week's Munch & Learn discussion group. Let him tell you in his own words about how he invited us to rethink our traditional assumptions about the wicked son:

In our pre-Pesach "Munch & Learn" session, we challenged the traditional image of the rasha, the so-called "wicked son" of the Haggadah. Far from being a villain or a scoffer, he represents a deeper struggle—one that’s uniquely tied to life in Eretz Yisrael.

In exile, the rasha engaged with mitzvot as part of a shared Jewish identity. They were his connection to a national story. But in Israel, where national identity is a lived, civic reality, he views mitzvot as outdated folklore, disconnected from the nation-building he values.

Our rasha is neither small-minded nor rebellious. Far from it. He's actually an idealist. His vision for the Jewish people is grand, but he struggles to see how Torah and mitzvot remain the backbone of Jewish nationhood, even in our sovereign state.

The Haggadah responds with a powerful verse: "Ba'avur zeh asah Hashem li"—“It is because of this [i.e. the Torah and mitzvot] that God took me out of Egypt.” This line, which appears four times in the Haggadah, reminds us that freedom without purpose is empty. The avodah, the physical performance of mitzvot, transforms us from slaves of Pharaoh to servants of God—and that, paradoxically, is the truest form of liberation.

Keep an eye on those details!

On Monday evening Rabbi Jonathan Neril gave a short devar Torah between minchah and maariv. Introducing the Book of Vayikra (Leviticus) which we have just started to lein, he spoke of the high level of detail that is found in the laws relating to the korbanot -- the Temple offerings -- that occupy so much of this Book, just as a high level of detail is encountered in the last five parshiyot of Shemot when specifying the requirements for building the Mishkan and furnishing the Kohanim with their priestly vestments.

Details are important, Rabbi Neril reminded us -- and God is in the details. This is not just a matter of the Torah making lists of small things that have to be properly fashioned if they are to perform their intended function. God's attention stretches so as to cover even the smallest actions we perform. Some things we do are apt to be regarded as trivial, for example discarding wrappers in the street, but these actions have an impact on the world that God created and on the land He gave us. We should therefore take particular care that even our smallest actions be in accord with His wishes.

This message chimes in with the content of volume 2 of Eco Bible, which Rabbi Neril compiled with Rabbi Leo Dee. Subtitled An Ecological Commentary on Leviticus, Numbers and Deuteronomy, this book focuses on issues such as biodiversity, environmental protection, sustainability and the need to refresh and rehabilitate the land. A copy of this book can be found in the Beit Midrash library, along with volume 1 which we reviewed here.