March 20th: Vayikra
THIS WEEK IN THE TORAH
Rabbi David E. Ostrich
The Greeks titled this book of the Torah Leviticus because much of it tells the Levitical Priests how to officiate at sacrificial worship. The Greek custom was to use titles that summarize a book. Thus did they choose Genesis for the book dealing with the origins of the world and of the Hebrew People, and Exodus for the book that records our miraculous departure from slavery in Egypt. They chose Numbers because the book begins with a census—though, after a few chapters, it tells stories from the forty years in the wilderness. And they chose Deuteronomy (second telling) because Moses’ farewell lectures summarize Israelite history.
The Hebrew tradition is different, using the first significant word in the first sentence as the title:
(1) Genesis begins with the words “B’raysheet/At First, God created the heavens and the earth…” and is known as B’raysheet/At First.
(2) Exodus begins with “Eleh sh’mot/These are the names of the sons of Israel who came to Egypt…” and is thus known as Sh’mot/Names.
(3) We’ll get to Leviticus in a moment.
(4) Numbers begins with “Va’y’daber Adonai el Moshe b’mid’bar Sinai/And the Lord spoke to Moses in the Wilderness of Sinai…” and is known as B’mid’bar/In Desert.
(5) Deuteronomy begins with “Eleh had’varim asher diber Moshe el-kol Yisrael/These are the words that Moses said to all Israel…” and is thus called D’varim/Words.
The Book of Leviticus begins with “Va’yik’ra el-Moshe va’y’daber Adonai elav/The Lord called to Moses and spoke to him…” and is thus knows as Vayik’ra/He called. It is perhaps the least auspicious title in the Five Books of Moses, but it can help to explain something very difficult for moderns. What’s with the sacrifices?! Why did ancient peoples believe that God wanted them to kill and cook a bunch of animals—and then eat them in a sacred banquet?
The answer begins with two ancient stories, one from Babylonia and the other from the Torah. In both stories, a great Flood destroys almost all life on earth, but one man builds a large boat and rides out the flood with his family and some animals. When the waters subside, the humans come out and sacrifice some of the animals. In the Babylonian Gilgamesh Epic, Utnapishtim sacrifices some animals, and the gods hover around the cooking meat like flies—presumably getting sustenance from the smoke and fat. In the Torah’s story, Noah sacrifices some animals, and “the Lord smelled the pleasing odor” (Genesis 8.21). The Babylonians thought that their gods got nutrition from the cooking meat. The Hebrews thought that, since God enjoyed the aromas of the cooking meat, God would come around to smell it—and, with God present, they could speak to God with praises and prayers.
This sacrificial approach to worship was the Jewish way from the Patriarchs to the First Century CE. However, when the Romans destroyed the Temple in Jerusalem, we were faced with a crisis. The Romans would not allow the Temple to be rebuilt, and the Bible’s rules prohibited relocating it anywhere else. How could we Jews continue to worship God?
Fortunately, there was already a tradition of local non-Temple worship. In places called b’tay k’nesset or synagogues, Jews in far-flung villages and cities could prayerfully support from afar the sacrificial services in the Jerusalem Temple. The Rabbis never gave up the hope of eventually rebuilding the Temple and reinstituting sacrificial worship, but they did decide that these synagogues could function as temporary substitutions. Relying on a numbers of Biblical passages, they realized that God does not need the fire, blood, or meat—that what God really wants is our attention and piety.
For example, in King Solomon’s prayer as he dedicates the Temple in Jerusalem (I Kings 8.44-53), he emphasizes the importance of prayer no matter where it is offered. In Jeremiah 29.12, Micah 6.6-8, Hosea 6.6 and 14.2-3, Amos 5.21-25, and Daniel 6.11, the Prophets speak of how prayer is what God really wants. And the message is reiterated in the Psalms (32.5-6, 33.1-5, 51.16-19, and 69.31-37). What God wants is our reverence, our obedience, and our attention. This could be communicated in the local synagogues.
So, the Rabbis constructed a prayer worship service, and they made it a kind of conversation between Heaven and Earth. In each service, passages from the Bible—Psalms, the Shema and Ve’ahavta, and the Torah reading—represent God calling to us. Then we call back to God with our prayers—speaking of our admiration, our hopes, our disappointments and embarrassments, and our requests for Divine help. Torah is when God talks to us; prayer is when we talk to God.
To make sure that we approach the Divine with godly attitudes and aspirations, the Rabbis peppered the prayers (our words to God) with Biblical quotations. When hope that by shaping our prayers with holiness, our prayers will be acceptable: “May the words of my mouth and the meditations of my heart be acceptable to You, O Lord, my Rock and my Redeemer.” (Psalm 19.15)
Thus does the Hebrew title of Leviticus—Vayikra/And God Called—reflect the ideal dynamic of worship. God calls, and we answer. Worship is where we encounter the Divine and develop and conduct our relationship with the Eternal Holy One.
In the ancient days, God called out to Moses and instructed the ancients Levitical rules. We then responded with gifts of livestock, grain, oil, and wine. Now we hear the call of the Lord in different ways—in Torah, in Tradition, and in the spiritual dynamics of Am Yisrael/Jewish Peoplehood, but we respond nonetheless. Our answers to God are with prayers, kavannah, morality, and Jewish Peoplehood.
In our relationship with the Divine, we seek God’s Presence, yearning to draw the holy influence into our lives. As Isaiah prays (2.5): “O House of Jacob! Come, let us walk by the light of the Lord!”