May 1st: Emor
THIS WEEK IN THE TORAH
Rabbi David E. Ostrich
One of the Torah’s most discussed passages comes in Exodus 19. Just before God proclaims the Ten Commandments to Israel, we are told: “You shall be My treasured possession among all the peoples. Indeed, all the earth is Mine, but you shall be to Me a kingdom of priests and a holy nation.” The thought that we Jews are God’s “Chosen People” both inspires and challenges, and Torah and Tradition represent our efforts to conceptualize and fulfill our holy purpose.
During Biblical days, a large part of our purpose involved worshipping God with sacrifices—a subject Leviticus addresses extensively. There are a variety of sacrifices for different purposes and occasions, and each one has its own particular obligations and procedures. Whether at the Mishkan (portable “Tent Temple”) or later the Temple in Jerusalem, the hallmark of Biblical Judaism was the Kohanim/ Priests officiating at sacrificial worship services. Tragically, this all came to an end when the Temple was destroyed by the Romans in 70 CE. Judaism faced an existential challenge: How could we, without sacrifices, continue our relationship with the Lord?
The answer turned out to be a centuries-long re-formation of Judaism, one in which the leadership moved us from the Bible’s Sacrifice-Oriented Religion to what became known as Rabbinic Judaism. A major civilizational accomplishment, it involved study, creativity, experience, and frequent recrafting —a process evident in the many layers and opinions of the Talmud and other Rabbinic writings. Rabbinic Judaism was and is a holy work-in-progress.
We do not know when Rabbinic Judaism got its start. Some think that its seeds were sown during the years of the Babylonian Exile, but historian Ellis Rivkin sees the movement arising around 200 BCE and as a Jewish response to Hellenism. The “problem” with Hellenism was that it swept over the entire Greek Empire like a tidal wave—culturally, politically, economically, and religiously. Local customs and religions were subjugated into a syncretistic culture—one that often violated Jewish laws and sensibilities. Some Jewish leaders felt like they had no choice but to go along with Hellenistic ways, but others—scholars identified as Scribes—took measures to withdraw from Hellenistic culture and refocus on the Jewish relationship with God. They thought of themselves as separatists—in Hebrew Perushim, in Greek Pharisaios, and in English Pharisees, and they took the Kingdom of Priests verse from Exodus 19 as both inspiration and technique. What would it be like, they wondered, if all Jews functioned as a Kingdom of Priests and aspired to a kind of non-Temple “priesthood?” Their answer was to craft a religious lifestyle in which regular Jews could attain a sense of holiness and Avodah—religious service to God.
The Pharisees spoke of their priest-like approach to religiosity as something God ordained, calling their process Torah She’b’al Peh/ Oral Torah and claiming that their progressive creativity was intended by God on Mount Sinai. Not all Jews agreed, with their main opponents, the Sadducees, believing that only the Five Books of Moses were revealed by God and that Judaism’s primary mission is to worship God in the Temple. These two schools of thought contended for generations, but, when the Temple and Priesthood were destroyed by the Romans, the only approach left standing was that of the Pharisees. Their focus on personal and communal holiness became the form of Judaism that survived and moved forward. The Pharisees called their leaders Rabbis, and their approach became known as Rabbinic Judaism. By the way, when Tradition says The Rabbis, it refers to the Pharisaic leaders circa 200 BCE-200 CE.
The Rabbinic process involved gleaning the Torah for Priestly rules that could be adapted to individual’s lives, and a few examples can be found in this week’s Torah portion.
(1) Leviticus 21 gives us the rules for how a Kohayn/Priest is to deal with the death of a close relative: “They shall not shave smooth any part of their heads or cut the side-growth of their beards.” (v.5) The Rabbis took this priestly rule and applied it to regular Israelites—and for all the time (not just during mourning). Thus, Tradition calls on Jewish men not to shave the sides of their heads or beards, and we have the religious custom of Payos, holy sidelocks, and untrimmed beards.
(2) Leviticus 22.4 prohibits Priests who are temporarily Tum’ah/Ritually Unclean from eating sacrificial meals: “If any priest, while in a state of uncleanness, partakes of any sacred donation that the Israelite people consecrate to the Lord, that person shall be cut off from before Me. I am the Lord.” Among the causes of Tum’ah are seminal emissions—a practice the Rabbis took and transposed it to the Torah Service. Even though Torah Scrolls were/are not subject to and of the sacrificial cult’s rules or priestly purity, Tradition prohibits anyone who has recently experienced a seminal emission from handling, blessing, or reading the Torah.
Expanding our search beyond this week’s Torah portion, here are two more examples of Priestly rules being applied to non-priestly religious life.
(3) Leviticus 2.13 insists on seasoning the sacrificial grain offerings with salt. So, though sacrifices ceased long ago, the Rabbis “observe” this ancient mitzvah by transforming our Shabbat dinner tables into sacrificial altars. The two sacrifices on Shabbat—the regular daily and the Musaf/Extra, are represented by two loaves of Challah at each Sabbath meal. And, that Challah is dipped in salt before it is eaten. Sabbath observers are thus symbolically elevated to priestly service.
(4) There is also the thought that the original rules of Kashrut—the animals allowed to be eaten and the rules for slaughtering them—were intended only for the priests and only for sacrificial rituals. Applying these rules to all Israelites and requiring ritual slaughter for all meat could be another example of the Rabbis bringing a sense of priestly holiness to everyday life—inspiring and involving all Jews in holy Avodah, serving the Lord.
The Rabbis’ efforts recorded in the Talmud reflect an effort to separate from Hellenism and intensify their connection to God, but I often sense something else at play. In addition to establishing the rules and approaches for their group’s religiosity, I think they were also trying to persuade average Jews to join their intensively Jewish way of life. It was a world where both Jewishness and popular culture beckoned, and the Rabbis wanted to draw Jews deeper into Jewishness. Perhaps our ancestors faced a similar situations to ours. When one feels a tug-of-war between the appeals of secular culture and religious sensibilities, how can one find a way to appreciate and participate in both?