March 29th: Tzav
THIS WEEK IN THE TORAH
Rabbi David E. Ostrich
When I compiled and edited our congregational prayer book, Siddur B’rit Shalom, one of my principles was that the English translations accurately translate the traditional Hebrew prayers. Some of our traditional Hebrew prayers contain problematic passages—and some prayer books keep the original Hebrew but have translations that avoid the difficulties. One small example is Ayn Kelohaynu in the red Siddur Hadash which has the traditional last line of the Hebrew but leaves out of the translation the antiquated reference to incense.
Though fully accurate translation was one of my principles, I wavered on one word—the word that is the title of our weekly portion. Tzav is the imperative form of the word Mitzvah—and how to translate Mitzvah in modern Liberal Judaism is a bit of a challenge.
In the Bible, the word means commandment, and much of Biblical and Talmudic Judaism is oriented around a kind of military paradigm. There is a Commander (God), commandments (the Mitzvot), and “commandees.” The determination of these “commandees” occupies many discussions in the Talmud. Some Mitzvot are for men, some for women, some for all ages, some for people over the age of thirteen. Some are for people living in the Land of Israel—some in Temple times, some when the Temple is not in operation. Some are for Jews, and some for non-Jews. Whoever the “commmandee,” however, there is a very firm expectation that the Mitzvot / commandments will be obeyed. As the saying goes, “They are commandments, not suggestions.”
Note the tenor of these Mitzvot in the opening paragraph of our Torah portion: “The Lord spoke to Moses, saying: Command Aaron and his sons thus: This is the ritual of the burnt offering: The burnt offering (olah) itself shall remain where it is burned upon the altar all night until morning, while the fire on the altar is kept going on it. The priest shall dress in linen raiment, with linen breeches next to his body…” (Leviticus 6.1-3) These rules and the many that follow are meant to be followed scrupulously.
This approach continues to be the Orthodox way of viewing Torah, but it is not the understanding of Liberal Judaism (Reform, Conservative, and Reconstructionist). While the Orthodox see the Torah as a set of permanent and immutable instructions from God—commandments that people are commanded to follow for all time, Liberal Jews have a different sense of our ancient religious tradition. We look at the Hebrew Scriptures as a reflection of our people’s spiritual seeking and history—what our ancient ancestors thought God wanted them to do. We study these ancient ideas and stories. We revere their spiritual aspirations. And we strive to continue the tradition of living a life of holiness in the presence of God. However, we do not see these ancient instructions as binding—as commandments that are applicable to us. And thus translating the terms Mitzvot/Commandments or V’tzivanu/and commanded us requires some theological contemplation.
For religious Liberal Jews, the Mitzvot are seen as sanctifying actions—ritual behaviors that bring a sense of God’s Presence into our lives. We do them at times when we choose to connect with God. And we choose which of the traditional practices we find meaningful. We also may make some creative adaptations. In other words, the Mitzvot are not seen as obedience to the Divine Will, but rather as voluntary moments of spiritual encounter.
(There is also, of course, the Yiddishism and connotation that a Mitzvah is a good deed. Since God wants us to be good, kind, and just, any good deeds we do are in a sense commanded by God. For a moral person, helping others is compelling.)
So, how do we translate a word that used to invoke a cosmic sense of obligation and obedience—but that now involves a conscious choice to engage the spiritual? It is as though our ancient and revered tradition offers a catalogue of sanctifying opportunities, and we offer thanks to the Creator for those which help draw us consciously closer. And we can feel affection and appreciation for our ancestral spiritual guides who fashioned from their experiences with God ways for us to feel that closeness in our own days and ways.
When I think of the nature and development of religion, I find helpful the words of William James as he sought to describe the religious drive—that Religion is “the human response to an undifferentiated sense of reality, to the ‘more’” (an undefinable, non-empirical feeling of a Presence). Many of us sense that Presence, and we feel part of traditions of thought and behavior that help us understand this ineffable aspect of reality and live in mindful relationship with It. The source of our religiosity and spiritual yearning is in this greater “more,” and all of the various religious responses (religion) are the results of human yearning and creativity. As Ellis Rivkin used to say, “Religion is the religious response to reality.”
How then does a Liberal Jew understand the opening passage in this week’s portion—about “the burnt offering (olah) remaining where it is burned upon the altar all night until morning,” and “the priest dressing in linen raiment, with linen breeches next to his body” or any other of the Torah’s Mitzvot? While the text treats them as specific instructions from the Eternal God of the Universe, the modern Liberal Jewish understanding is that they are what our ancient and pious ancestors conceived to be the most respectful and proper ways to worship/draw close to God. Holiness is represented in both views, but the source and development of these instructions are where we differ.
In Liberal Judaism, we do not understand phrases like Asher kidishanu b’mitzvotav / Who makes us holy with the mitzvot as the cosmic Presence commanding us in actual words Rather we read it in the sense that the cosmic Presence is inducing us to make a sacred connection—and, through our Tradition of spiritual quest, offering us opportunities for holiness and sacred connection. In other words, there is a lot of theology in something as simple as lighting the Sabbath candles or blessing the Sabbath wine. We can take the words literally, or we can understand the many years of religious thinking that inform them. We are given the opportunity to approach the Eternal and to bring some of that holiness—godliness—into our lives.
Baruch Atah Adonai, Elohaynu Melech ha’olam, Asher kidishanu b’mitzvotav v’tzivanu…
We praise You, O Lord our God, Ruler of all, Who makes us holy with Your mitzvot and teaches us…to live and strive spiritually in Jewish ways.