March 27th: Tzav
THIS WEEK IN THE TORAH
Rabbi David E. Ostrich
Tzav continues the Levitical instructions for the many different sacrifices offered to the Lord. While all the Israelites are commanded to bring animals, flour, oil, and wine, it is the Kohanim/Priests who officiate and need to know exactly how to do each ritual correctly. Much of Leviticus seems to be their technical manual.
As such, Leviticus talks about the What’s and How’s of sacrificial worship, but, other than the fact that God commands them, there is little about the Why’s of worship. It is not until later in the Bible that Prophets and Psalmists discuss the psychology or motivations of worship—and our Haftarah this week gives us an excellent example.
The Prophet Malachi (3.4-24) is concerned about some Israelites who are not following God’s commands, and he imagines a kind of courtroom confrontation in which God and the people exchange complaints and accusations. God’s contention is that the people cheat on their tithes. While God faithfully “opens the floodgates of the sky for you to pour down blessings upon you,” the people shortchange the offerings they are supposed to bring. This is both an affront against God and an economic assault on the Kohanim who depend on their share of the offerings for sustenance.
The people’s complaint is that they do not see God’s moral stewardship. “It is useless to serve God. What have we gained by keeping God’s charge and walking in abject awe of the Lord of Hosts?” (verse 14) They continue with an argument later called Theodicy: “We see the arrogant happy: indeed they have done evil and endured; they have dared God and escaped.” Why should we serve God if God does not rule the world justly?
The Biblical understanding of God’s Justice is that obedience to God’s commandments brings reward, disobedience brings punishment, and both reward and punishment come during our lifetimes. Malachi’s complainers believe that they have been promised justice, but they do not see it happening. They see the arrogant and evil doing fine (not being punished). And though not stated, they presumably see good people suffering and not getting the rewards they deserve. If God is not doing what has been promised, then bringing sacrifices is a waste of effort.
Malachi’s answer is that God’s Justice will soon be seen—that God is preparing an “awesome, fearful day of the Lord.” Unfortunately, no schedule is given, and we are left wondering how soon this day will come. Will it be in our lifetimes or in the distant Messianic future? “Lo, I will send the prophet Elijah to you before the coming of the awesome, fearful day of the Lord!”
The Book of Job attempts to tackle this issue, but its message is sort of a non-answer. Though Job is a completely righteous man, he suffers grievously and for no apparent reason. Despite all this, he keeps his faith in God, and the lesson for readers is that God’s ways are beyond our understanding. We cannot see the dynamics of the Divine, so we should just trust in God.
This answer was good enough for many believers, but others continued to be troubled by the seeming inconsistency in Divine Justice. An answer came from the Perushim/Pharisees—scribes and teachers who were later called Rabbis. Wrestling with this Theodicy and with cryptic references like Malachi’s about a future day when God’s Justice will be seen, the Rabbis intuited an answer. If God is just, they reasoned, then the incomplete justice we witness in this world must be in only one part of the story—and the second part of the story must be when God makes everything right. The Rabbis intuited that this time will come after we die, and thus did they teach about Olam HaBa/The World to Come where the scales of moral justice will be righted. As Rabbi Jacob explains, “This world is like an anteroom before the World-to-Come. Prepare yourself in the anteroom so that you may enter the banquet hall.” (Pirke Avot 4.16)
This notion of an eternal reward has comforted and inspired generations of Jews—as well as Christians and Muslims who got the belief from us. God is just, but the timeframe for that justice extends beyond this mortal life.
Many people find this answer helpful, but many do not. They have doubts about God or about God’s record in the world—or about the ways that religions have managed themselves. They note differing religious opinions and are bothered by the lack of scientific proof. Thus are there those among us who speak the words of Malachi’s worship-reluctant complainers: “It is useless to serve God. What have we gained by keeping God’s charge and walking in abject awe of the Lord of Hosts?”
A modern approach to this problem can be found in Milton Steinberg’s historical novel, As a Driven Leaf. Set in Talmudic times, the main character (“Elisha ben Abuya”) struggles to ascertain ultimate truth mathematically. He turns away from Judaism, embraces Greek philosophy, and ultimately fails to find the certainty he demands, Though set in the Second Century, Steinberg’s story deftly parallels the challenges modern Jews have faced as we are caught between modern science and traditional wisdom. “What have we gained?” many ask, by following our traditional religion?
Among the insights I draw from Rabbi Steinberg is that this kind of transactional question may not be the best way to approach religion or life. For many religionists, it is not a matter of choosing a God Who can be “proven” or Who serves us better. Rather, religion is about trying to figure out the cosmos around us. Despite what we know or do not know, much of our searching involves intuition. As philosopher William James explains, Religion is the human response to an undifferentiated sense of reality—to the“more”(an undefinable, non-empirical feeling of a Presence). We sense a Presence, and we yearn to understand it, to approach it, and to live in a conscious relationship with it. The exact nature of the Presence is ineffable—impossible to describe, but it is nonetheless remarkably appealing and innately good. Religion is the product of this intuitive process, and Judaism is one religious way to reach out for holiness.
Religion is thus less a transactional relationship and more a holy seeking. We are beckoned to approach the Infinite and receive the influence of the Infinitely Good. What we “gain” is the experience of “walking in the awe and inspiration of God.”