Shemini
22 Adar II 5774 / March 21-22, 2014
This D'var was billed as “Jewish Texts and their
Relevance Today.” Let’s learn a little bit together and see whether or not we
find some of our traditional texts relevant to our lives.
The first brief text I want to share with you comes
from the Talmud - the
basic compendium of Jewish law and thought, compiled and edited at the end of
the 5th Century CE in Babylonia – and is one of my favorite:
“The members of the household of Rabban Gamliel did not used
to say ‘Good health!’ in the House of Study so as to not interrupt their study.” (Berachot 53a)
What’s going on here?
Well, for the Spanish speakers, you might
recognize “Good health” as “Salud!” And
for the Hebrew speakers, as “Livriyut!” German and Yiddish fans: “Gezundheit!”
And when do we say
these things? After someone
sneezes!
So what do we learn from this? That more than 15 HUNDRED
years ago, people were saying “Gezundheit” or its equivalent when people
sneezed!
To me, that’s amazing! Our traditional Jewish text, in the
context of a broader conversation about when it’s appropriate to interrupt
one’s study / immersion in sacred endeavors, reveals a connection point that we
share with our ancestors in a very real way.
So the next time you hear someone sneeze, when
offering up a “Gezundheit," "Bless You" or" Livriyut,” you’re forging your
connection to a chain over 1500 years old.
Let’s look now at a 2nd text – it’s another one of my favorites.
This particular text comes from the Mishna - the first compilation of the oral law,
authored by Rabbi Yehudah HaNasi (approx. 200 C.E.) – in a section called
“Pirkei Avot” – the Ethics of our Ancestors.
In this particular clause, which comes in the first chapter
of Pirkei Avot (there are 5 total chapters), Shammai (1st century
BCE), one of major rabbinic sages at the time, outlined three steps to enhance
one’s life.
"Shammai would say: Make your Torah study a permanent fixture of your life. Say little and do much. And receive every man with a pleasant countenance."
(Avot 1:15)
So the three bullets Shammai outlines are:
1.
To
have set times dedicated for Torah study (anyone who has tried to get into
better physical shape by working out knows that having a routine is a key
component!);
2.
To
say little and do much (actions speak louder than words – the concept shared
over 2000 years ago!); and
3.
To
greet everyone with a smile.
So Shammai’s recipe for success? Develop meaningful
routines, let your actions lead the way, and let your smile be infectious. By the way – contemporary science is showing
that smiling – even forcibly – decreases stress and increases happiness. I love
it when 2,000 year old advice has practical contemporary applications!
Let’s now look at a few verses from this week's Torah portion, Shemini.
In Shemini, we find Aaron and
his sons filling their priestly roles for the first time since their 7-day inauguration
ceremony.
Leviticus Chapter 10: 1-3
Verse 1:
And
Nadav and Avihu, the
sons of Aaron, each took their fire pan and put fire therein, and laid incense
thereon, and offered alien
fire before God, which God had not commanded them.
Verse 2: And there came forth fire from before
God, and devoured them; and they died before God.
Verse 3: Then Moses said to Aaron: This what God
was referring to when saying “Through them that are close to Me I will be
sanctified, and before all the people I will be glorified;” And Aaron was
silent.
So we learn that 2 of Aaron’s sons, the priests Nadav
and Avihu, make an incense offering that went above and beyond what they were
commanded to do, and which the Torah refers to as an “alien fire.” Alien in
this case means “not holy,” as opposed to, say, fire emanating from Star Wars
spacecrafts.
In response to this action, in Verse 2, we learn that
“A fire came forth from God and devoured them, and they died before God.”
Talk about an unforgiving boss! On their first real
unsupervised day on the job, Nadav and Avihu aren’t only fired – they’re
literally consumed by fire and burnt to death due to their perceived mistake! It’s no wonder that there are so many vacant
Jewish Temple priest jobs on Careerbuilder.com.
In Verse 3, we find what I perceive to be one of the
most profound verses in the entire Torah. In response to finding out that two of his sons are
dead, Aaron, the High Priest, who was the individual designated as Moses’s
spokesperson and mouthpiece when confronting Pharaoh, is silent.
Needless to say, this isn’t the response you might
expect from someone traditionally so vocal…
Perhaps Aaron was in a state of shock and/or was
unable to process the information he had received.
Perhaps he was devastated, but was so duty-bound that
he found comfort in the fact that his sons had died while serving and
fulfilling God’s expressed desire to be sanctified (which we find in the first
part of Verse 3).
Or perhaps Aaron said nothing in order to avoid
interfering with the joy of the inauguration festivities taking place.
Simply put, there is no way to know how one will react
upon losing a child, or loved ones in general.
Our tradition puts a tremendous emphasis on comforting
mourners, and by highlighting the
textual archetype of a mourner who mourns in silence (especially a person we
wouldn’t expect silence from), we learn that individuals process loss in different ways, and as
a result modify our behaviors today accordingly.
When we visit with mourners, the natural tendency is
to want to try and explain the loss to them in philosophical terms. “She/he is
in a better place now;” “It’s all part of God’s plan;” etc. But our job is not to be philosophers or
theologians – rather, it’s simply to be Present.
We learn in the Shulchan Aruch, the standard code of Jewish law set forth
by Rabbi Joseph Karo in 1563 C.E., that “when comforting a mourner, one should
not initiate (the initial) conversation, but rather let the mourner speak his
or her mind.” (Yoreh Deah 376:1) The mourner may want to laugh, cry, or, like, Aaron, remain
silent; and trying to engage someone in conversation who prefers to remain
silent defeats the entire purpose of seeking to comfort.
Thus, we take our cues from the mourner. We don’t assume
anything. We’re Present. And we can contemporarily appreciate the guidance
offered in text-form 450 years ago, cultivated from a Torah text that’s at
least 2500 years old.
Needless to say we are a text-rich tradition. Admittedly, we
have texts that are incredibly challenging, and that without question expose
the normative cultural values of the time, many of which we do not share today.
My hope is that rather than simply discarding those pieces of our tradition
that we deem archaic or outdated, that we commit to struggling with and
learning what we can from them. We are the Children of Israel – the translation
of the name “Israel” itself means struggling with the Divine. To struggle is
our legacy – we’re not meant to take the easy way out. Our texts have
incredible wisdom contained within them that can (and often times, without even
realizing it, do) add meaning and value to our lives today. May we all be
blessed, to borrow from Shammai, to make Torah and text study a permanent
fixture of our lives, and may our lives be ever the richer as a result.