June 2nd: Naso
THIS WEEK IN THE TORAH
Rabbi David E. Ostrich
A few weeks ago, I mused about our American obsession with things British—from the Royal Family to the aristocracy and landed gentry. We even like their detectives and pastry chefs, and television programs from or about Britain glow in our living rooms continually. Imagining ourselves in their dramas, we often wonder how we would respond.
If I were the master of Downton Abbey, how would I negotiate modernity? After the Great War decimated the servant class, and socialistic taxes and extravagance bankrupted our class, would I be the one to lose the family estate and position? Could I keep the legacy alive—and how?
Or, if I were “downstairs,” how much of the tradition would I be willing to dedicate myself to maintaining? How much dignity or autonomy would I be willing to sacrifice so that the upstairs people could have their “important” and ostentatious lives? Would I find these traditions worthy of continuation?
Similarly, if I were King George III, how high would I want to keep the walls of my castle? Would my democratic tendencies extend just to the highest of the aristocracy or to the population in general? Or, if I were King Charles III, would I feel silly with all the hoopla and expense, or would I find purpose in the monarchy—believing that the money and attention is well-spent for national pride and unity? Would I want to continue things as they have been, or would I emulate less ostentatious monarchs around the world? Would I be the one who changes tradition?
The question is not a new one—nor is it restricted to royalty. Religions often face possible changes, and a passage in this week’s Torah portion reminds us of one of Judaism’s greatest moments of transition. In Numbers 6 (verses 22-27), we have what is known as Hab’rachah Ham’shuleshet / The Threefold Blessing or The Priestly Benediction:
“The Lord spoke to Moses: Speak to Aaron and his sons: Thus shall you bless the people of Israel. Say to them: May the Lord bless you and protect you! May the Lord smile upon you and be gracious to you! May the Lord shine upon you and bless you with peace! Thus they shall link My Name with the people of Israel, and I will bless them.”
Most of us know this blessing as one with which parents bless their children on Shabbat—or with which the Rabbi blesses us at Brit Milah or Baby Naming, Consecration, Bar/Bat Mitzvah, Confirmation, Gerut, or Marriage. However, in Tradition—and as the text suggests, this blessing is to be said by the Kohanim, the Priests.
The Torah does not identify the occasions on which The Threefold Blessing is to be asked, but the Talmud and subsequent Halachic texts put this blessing into the worship service—in the Amidah just before Sim Shalom. Many congregations have this prayer intoned by the Shaliach Tzibur (prayer leader)—with the congregation answering, Ken y’hi ratzon / May this be God’s Will. However, more traditional congregations bring the Kohanim up to the front of the sanctuary and have what is called Duchenen. The Kohanim remove their shoes, cover their heads and hands with their Tallesim, close their eyes, and make the priestly sign with their hands. The Shaliach Tzibur then begins to chant the words of the blessing, pausing after each word for the Kohanim to repeat the chanted word. It is a ritual moment of great significance—and one of the very few vestiges of the Priestly role that used to dominate Jewish worship.
Everything changed in 70 CE when the Romans destroyed the Temple and Jerusalem. Without a Temple—and with rebuilding in another location strictly forbidden, there was no place for the Priests to officiate. Imagine being present with the surviving Rabbis in Yavneh when they discussed what to do in the aftermath of the Churban, the destruction. Under the leadership of Yochanan ben Zakkai, the Sages held the future of Judaism in their hands. How were Jews to worship the Lord and keep the covenant? Imagine the table where they pondered Judaism’s fate and the moment when one ancient scholar suggested that God would find prayers acceptable instead of the sacrifices commanded in the Torah. Imagine making the decision to basically junk the previous 1500-2000 years of Jewish worship and institute new ways. What must have begun as a controversial point of view turned out to be both necessary and brilliant, but let us think for a moment about the bravery or desperation or creativity that sparked such a notion.
The Sages did not know that their new ways would develop into a magnificent spiritual system—one that has nurtured and enhanced our Jewish relationship with the Divine for millennia. They merely saw the necessity and began a process, crafting and re-crafting our Jewish worship service with faith, kavannah, and liturgical labor. Bearing the dual responsibility of revering Tradition and making the necessary changes, these ancient Sages fashioned new ways to keep Israel’s relationship with God healthy and thriving.
Where they could, they maintained certain forms—keeping the thematic outline of the sacrificial service, but they wrought a major innovation by replacing the sacrifices with prayers. They also faced the consequent de-necessity of the Kohanim, the Priests who had lived with status and power for over a thousand years. In this new “prayer service,” the hereditary priesthood was no longer needed, and any Jew could lead the prayers. Though still respected, the sacred activities of the Kohanim and Levites were vastly reduced and mere tokens of their former roles.
Though the Sages could bolster their decisions with a number of Scriptural passages, theirs must have been a great and gutsy change. We look back on it now as history, but, at the time, these innovations must have been earth-shaking. Faced with an old order that lay smoldering and in ruins, preserving the essence of our relationship with the Lord meant consigning some precious traditions to memory and legend.
When we intone the Threefold Priestly Benediction, our primary focus should be, of course, on God’s Presence in our lives. However, we should also reflect on the adaptability that has enabled and enhanced our relationship with the Divine. God’s Face is ever turned to us, smiling and shining and calling us to bring holiness into the times and places we live.