Parashat Behukotai, May. 26th

Stop me if you've heard this one before: "halakhah" technically doesn't mean "the law," it's closer to "the path." Because that's what this tradition is! A path that you can always return to no matter how far you veer off course. Except it's more like a huge multi-lane highway, so what happens if you veer across lanes and into the median, causing a high speed pursuit across state lines? Asking for a friend (Aaron the High Priest).

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 Bechukotai, “in my laws”, the final parsha in the Book of Leviticus. We’ll start with a brief recap: 

God tells Moshe to tell the Israelites: Live by these laws and you will be blessed, with things like plentiful food and a huge grape harvest and timely rain and peace in the land and no wild rampaging beats and military success and so many crops you won’t know what to do with it all, and God’s presence revealed in our midst. But if you reject them, you will have a series of horrifying punishments: disease, family, military occupation, drought, and just generally being forsaken by God. God also specifically says that failing to observe the shmita year will lead to the land becoming desolate. But, hey, God says, even if all this awful stuff happens to you, I will never fully forsake you even when you’re in exile. We then shift gears to some Temple finances, such as endowment, animals given for sacrifice, endowing land to the Temple, and the law to sacrifice all firstborn livestock and let the priests eat them. People can also choose to dedicate any of their things to the Temple for use by the priests. We close out with some information about tithes, the mandatory 10% of produce that was meant to be donated to the temple. Farmers must make a second tithe, but if they can’t come to Jerusalem for it, they can redeem it. Finally, we learn that every 10th animal is supposed to be offered as a sacrifice, to be eaten by the owners. The end!

Well, folks, we made it through a lot of laws, and the beginning of the parsha seems poised to answer the question: why should we care? The commentators notice this too, and they zero in on one word at the very beginning of the parsha: telechu, you shall walk. Im bechukotai telechu, the parsha starts; if you walk in my ways. From this we get the word for Jewish law, halacha, which doesn’t mean Law, it means the path. When we observe Jewish law, we are literally “walking the walk” on being Jewish. And as my teacher Rabbi Danny Nevins writes, “Walking the path of divine command changes a person, and makes them a reflection of God.” Perhaps this is why the book of Leviticus begins with God calling Moshe in, is anchored in the middle by parashat kedoshim teaching and exhorting us to strive to be holy because God is holy, and ends by reminding us to walk the walk as much as we can. The laws that fill this book are like bumpers on our path, helping us walk along a path that leads to holiness of action, and holiness of intention. Not every single one of the laws in this book apply to all of us- in fact, in modern times, very few of them are things we can literally do or not do. But they teach us that bumpers are important. Having a sense of a path, having a feeling of direction in the relationship we have with Jewish practice, helps us stay connected. 

I teach our conversion students to think of Halacha as being like a broad highway. There’s many lanes, and you can choose which lane to be in based on your comfort level with the system. There’s a shoulder where you can pull over temporarily, and plenty of entrances and exits that allow you to get on and off as you need. And, even in its darkest moment, this parsha reminds us that the entrance will never fully be blocked. Even if we are exiled, even if we feel most distant from God, we will never fully be alone. We will always be invited back onto the road. 

As we close the book, I want to offer a blessing to Aaron, who was in charge of enacting and overseeing many of these laws. He experiences loss and trauma in this parsha, and I hope he too remembered that he is always welcome to come back and walk the walk, even if sometimes he needs to go slowly. And to you, the same: this is your road to drive, or your path to walk. You are always welcome, and you can always pick it back up. Just keep putting one foot in front of the other. Hazak, hazak v’nitchazek- we are strong, and we will continue to get stronger together.