Parashat Tzav, March 17th

Being a priest was a pretty sweet gig on paper: sweep the ashes, collect a tip, eat a little sacrifice as a treat, repeat. But here's the thing — you didn't ask for this life! Your dad is a Levite, but at heart, you're a total Benjamite with a rising Ephraim. Rabbi Deena wonders if there aren't times we're all called to difficult things that, deep down, we don't want any part in.

Produced by Mishkan Chicago.  Music composed, produced, and performed by Kalman Strauss. See our upcoming Shabbat services and programs here, and follow us on Instagram and like us on Facebook for more updates. Check out Shabbat Replay on Contact Chai for more from Rabbi Deena.

Transcript

Transcript

Welcome to The Morning Scroll! I'm Rabbi Deena Cowans from Mishkan Chicago and you're listening to what will be a quick dive into this week's parsha. If you’ve been meaning to brush up on your Jewish literacy, or you’re looking for some inspiration, you’ve come to the right place. This week, we read Parashat Tzav, “command”, cutting straight to the point. We’ll start with a brief recap: 

God commands the priests to remove the ashes from sacrifices everyday, and reiterates the laws of the grain offerings, adding some extras like the one brought by the priests, and the laws of asham and chatat offerings. The Torah also talks about which vessels absorb the nature of the food cooked in them, and the “tips” the priests can take from the sacrifices brought in the Temple. We also get laws of a sacrifice brought by someone who survives a dangerous event, what might invalidate a sacrifice, and are reminded not to eat any blood or sacrificial fat, both in the Temple and generally. The parsha then shifts gears and talks about how to induct the priests by dressing them in their special clothes and anointing them with oil, then having Moshe sacrifice a bull and some rams, along with some bread. Moshe is to mix some of the anointing oil with blood from the sacrifices, and then the newly annointed priests eat some of the sacrificial meat. They do this process for seven days straight, and the priests are not allowed to leave the Temple during this time. The end. 

So, now is probably a good time to remind you that at the beginning of this parsha cycle, I said that I was going to offer a blessing to someone in the parsha in each episode, which I knew would be easier for the first few books of the Torah that are rich in narrative, and get much harder once we reach the middle, and the only character we encounter for many parshiyot is Moshe. Which is why, for the last few weeks, I’ve been trying to imagine an actual Israelite, or type of person, who would be impacted by this week’s parsha. Because amidst the laws, the “news of the day”, we don’t want to lose sight of the fact that the Torah says of itself, “v’chai ba’hem”, that the whole point of these laws is that we will live by them. Laws do not live, people do. 

This week, let’s turn our focus to the priests who will be invested in their sacred roles, a ritual we learn about in this week’s parsha. Remember what these Levites have been through up until this moment: they were recruited by Moshe to kill their cousins after the sin of the Golden Calf, and have been watching and participating in this incredibly meticulous construction project alongside the other tribes. They don’t get a choice about serving, actually, it’s just a given. How would you, a person who has been chosen for this role by virtue of who your father is, feel on the precipice of this moment? If I were a priest, I would be feeling a mix of honor that I get to play an important role for my people, and anxiety about the ways this role will potentially put me in intense situations- I’ve seen what God can do when someone messes up, and it’s not great. 

To this imagined priest, I offer a blessing that this calling to serve your people be safe and protected, and that it should be a source of inspiration and connection. And, though I almost never do this, I want to extend this blessing to current events. As I think about these priests waiting to be called into service, I am reminded of the Ukrainian people who are turning from the lives they have been leading and preparing to fight a war they didn’t ask for, but cannot turn away from. As I read stories on the news of young men escorting their families to the border and turning back to fight, or of people gathered in a church basement preparing food for others, or of the thousands of people who cannot evacuate because of a disability or because they are a caregiver or because they want to stay in their home, I want to offer this same blessing. May they be safe and protected, and may their work be a source of inspiration and connection to their identity, their people and their homes.