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INTRODUCTION TO PARASHAT HASHAVUA
PARASHAT TZAV
THE
MEANING OF CHAMETZ
by Rav Alex
Israel
PART 1 - THE STRUCTURE AND CONTENT OF
PARASHAT TZAV
Our parasha continues the theme of the sacrifices (korbanot), begun last
week, with more details and regulations concerning the sacrificial procedure. To give the parasha some shape and
meaning, we will begin by outlining the general "headings" of its content. We will demonstrate how the parasha
contains two distinct sections and we will explain the objective of each
section.
Our parasha divides into two topics:
I. ch. 6-7: A delineation of the
procedures for the five main types of sacrifice.
II. ch. 8: The "milu'im" - the seven day
ceremonial inauguration of the tabernacle.
A REPETITION?
When approaching the first section of our parasha, we need to understand
why we are detailing the sacrifices for a second time. Let us explain. Last week in parashat Vayikra, the
Torah outlined, in great detail, the appropriate animals, procedures, and
restrictions of the five archetypes of korban (sacrifice). All the legal requirements were
spelled out. Now, as we read through
parashat Tzav this week, we read about those same korbanot. Why the repetition?
This question lies at the root of understanding the purpose of the
listing in our parasha, for in essence, what we see here are two lists. If you pay close attention to
structure, you will note that in both lists, all five classic sacrifices appear,
only that the order of the five has been altered.
Here are the two listings:
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VAYIKRA (Lev. ch. 1-5):
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TZAV (Lev. ch. 6-7)
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ola (burnt)
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ola
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mincha (flour)
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mincha
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shelamim (peace)
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chatat
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chatat (sin)
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asham
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asham (guilt)
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shelamim
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We need to understand two things.
First, why the repetition of all five sacrifices? Even if the details are divided
between Vayikra and Tzav, why could they not have been included in a single
text? And second, why are the orders
of the lists switched? To begin
searching for an answer we turn to the HEADINGS given to each "listing."
PARASHAT VAYIKRA opens with the following
introduction.
"The Lord
called to Moses ... saying: 'Speak to the Children of Israel and say to them:
When any of you presents an offering to God ...'" (1:1-2)
Note that the introduction addresses a particular group. Moses is talking to the people, the
Children of Israel. This is in
contrast to the opening line of PARASHAT TZAV.
There God instructs Moses to talk to a more specific grouping:
"The Lord
spoke to Moses, saying 'Command Aaron and his children ...'" (6:1)
Parashat VAYIKRA talks to the person, the common individual who,
motivated by religious stirrings, offers a sacrifice. Parashat TZAV is addressed to the
officiaries of the Temple, Aaron and his sons, who must bring the sacrifices
themselves. This is the key to
understanding all the differences between the two "lists" and the two parshiot.
In VAYIKRA, the ordering begins with sacrifices which are self-motivated
(ola, mincha, shelamim) and then continues with obligatory sacrifices (chatat,
asham). Why? Because the focus is the individual. We begin with a human motivation to
come closer to God. Only after that
do we move "down" to the person who is forced to bring a korban by virtue of his
sin. And in TZAV, the order is fixed
differently. There we talk to the
officiaries of the Temple. The first
four classifications (ola, mincha, chatat, asham) are all grouped together in
that they have a degree of sanctity which precludes taking the food of the
sacrifice from the precincts of the Temple.
They are "kodshei kodshim" - highly sanctified. But the shelamim sacrifice can be
eaten by a non-priest anywhere in Jerusalem.
It is "kodshim kalim" - lightly sanctified. Thus, the order reflects the group
being addressed. In both listings we
move from higher levels to lower levels, but the lists have very different
agendas. For the Israelites we talk
about human motivation. For the
priests we talk about what they are responsible for, degrees of sanctity, and
what they will allow to leave the Temple grounds.
If you check the two lists, you will discern that the details mentioned
in VAYIKRA concern the procedure of the korban as regards the person who brings
it (and the acts of the priests on behalf of the owners) whereas the details in
TZAV are concerned far more with matters which would fall under the jurisdiction
of the priesthood. One example is
that parashat TZAV delineates the sections of each sacrifice which the priests
may use for their own purposes.
These details are noticeably absent in the VAYIKRA listing.
TO SUMMARIZE: Parashat TZAV returns to the five classifications of korban
described last week; however, this time the focus is different. In Vayikra the laws of sacrifices are
outlined as regards the individual Israelite.
Now they are described as regards internal Temple procedures.
THE MILU'IM
The final chapter of our parasha gives the process whereby the Temple was
dedicated. For seven days, a special
order of sacrifices were offered.
The priests were restricted from leaving the sanctuary for the entire seven days
(8:33). This was all a lead up to
the eighth day (next week's parasha) which was the day when "God will appear"
(9:6) to the entire nation.
WHY THE DETAIL?
We often wonder why the Torah goes into such detailed descriptions of the
sacrifices. Even if we identify
fully with the korbanot and what they do for the I-Thou connection between man
and God, we frequently read through all the detail wondering why the Torah could
not have been more concise. This
same is true for the detailed instructions of the Tabernacle - the mishkan -
which take up 12 chapters in Shemot (Exodus).
Why the extensive "coverage?"
Let me strengthen my question with a comparison to another fundamental
area of Judaism: Shabbat. Shabbat
gets only a few lines in the Torah.
It never receives detailed treatment, no more than a few verses at a time are
devoted to it; yet, its laws are incredibly complex and massive in their scope. The Rabbis pictured the Laws of
Shabbat as "a mountain suspended by a thread" (Chagiga 1:8). The "thread" is the minimal space
devoted to Shabbat in the Torah. The
"mountain" is the enormous volume of legal material which describes the
obligations and restrictions of Shabbat.
Why did the Torah choose to present Shabbat in such minimal terms and to
become so verbose when talking about Temple and sacrifice?
An answer that I heard from my teacher in Tanakh, David Nativ, goes
something like this. The Torah,
despite its divine nature, was not born in a vacuum. Its messages are eternal, there are
lessons for all time, but we must all agree that the written law was given over,
at a particular point in history to a particular people who lived in a world
with a strong, firmly established way in religious expression. At the time of the birth of Judaism,
all cultures had temples and all religions were practiced through sacrifices of
one type or another. This is the
religious reality, the cultural background that Judaism had to contend with.
Judaism arrived and introduced a revolution in many areas: the dignity of
man, human freedom, ethical monotheism.
Judaism introduced many new ideas.
For the Jews, there were laws and regulations to follow, 613 commands
which would shape the new way of life that God was introducing into the world. Certain ideas were unique to the new
religion: do not mix milk and meat, Shabbat, etc.
These could be mentioned in a sentence.
There was no danger that any of the contemporary culture would pollute
these ideas because only the Jews were practicing them. But if God told them to build a
temple, to bring sacrifices, they would have simply followed the contemporary
pagan way!
Instead, God had to spell it all out.
To prevent possible osmosis from other cultures, the infiltration of
alien ideas into the sanctum of the monotheistic mindset, the Torah had to
define these spiritual tools in the most minuscule detail. A Jewish temple was to be exactly
this way. Nothing was to be left to
interpretation. But the Shabbat. There was no danger from the outside
to that institution. Whoever Moses
defined it would become its shape and form.
And so, the detail in which the sacrifices are described was vital in
ensuring a uniquely monotheistic, Jewish way of serving God.
PART II - CHAMETZ AND THE ALTAR OF GOD
If we can offer one issue for deeper thought this week, we shall choose
to discuss a topic which unites our parasha and the upcoming festival of Pesach
(Passover). The Torah describes the
meal offering (mincha). It was
usually an offering of flour, which was mixed with oil. The flour could be brought in its
regular state, or it could be offered baked as matzot, or even a pancake (for
details, see Lev. chapter 2).
Within the context of this flour offering, the Torah issues an
instruction:
"No meal
offering that you offer to the Lord shall be with leaven (chametz), for you
shall burn no leaven (se'or) or honey in any fire offering to the Lord." (2:11)
It appears again in our parasha:
"... its
remainder (of the meal offering) shall be eaten by Aaron and his sons; it shall
be eaten as unleavened cake (matzot) in the sacred precinct ... It shall not be baked with leaven
..." (6:9-10)
We can see that the prohibition of chametz is not simply limited to the
festival of Pesach. It has a wider
application than that, and its application to the Temple - no leaven may be
offered on the Temple altar - begs the question; what is it that disqualifies
leaven? Why is it under ban?
IDOLATRY
Maimonides in his famous work, the Guide to the Perplexed (3:46) suggests
that the Torah forbids the offering of chametz on the Temple altar because it is
too similar to the pagan idolatrous practices of the time.
"Due to
the fact that the idolaters would sacrifice only leaven bread, and they would
offer up all manner of sweet food and would smear their animal sacrifices with
honey, ... therefore God warned us not to offer to Him any of these things;
leaven or honey."
According to this, the sole objection to chametz lies in the fact that
chametz is associated with the pagan and God wishes to distance these practices
and ideas from His service.
[This equation of chametz with idolatry becomes even more fascinating
when we apply it to the prohibition of chametz on Pesach.
We know that matza symbolizes the speed of the exodus (Ex. 12:39) but why
should all leaven be outlawed on Pesach?
The Zohar (2:182) equates chametz and idolatry: "Whoever eats chametz on
Pesach is as if he prayed to an idol."
Many commentators have suggested that the ceremony of the Paschal Lamb in
Egypt was a public rejection of the Egyptian worship of sheep. Rashi (Exodus 12:20) sees the command
to take the lamb as a rejection of pagan worship.
Maybe the corollary for future generations is the prohibition of chametz. See Haggada Shelema by R. Menachem
Kasher - Appendix #7 - where he draws a series of halakhic parallels between the
laws of idolatry and the laws of chametz: 1. The prohibition of even seeing it. 2. The requirement to burn it, to
eradicate its existence. 3. The prohibition not only of eating but of any manner
of benefit from it. 4. The prohibition of even the most minuscule particle. This is true for idolatry and
chametz. It is not true for any
other prohibition in Jewish law. See
his analysis there.]
THE EVIL INCLINATION
Chametz has been given a wider theological application by preachers
throughout the ages by drawing a comparison between leaven and the "yetzer
ha-ra," the evil inclination, the driving force to sin.
"Rabbi
Alexandri would end his daily prayers with the following supplication: 'Master
of the Universe, You know full well that it is our desire to act according to
your will; but what prevents us from doing so? - the yeast in the dough...'"
(Talmud, Berakhot 17a)
In the Torah, two terms are used to designate leaven. One term is "se'or," the other is
called "chametz." What is the
difference between them? Se'or is a
leavening agent. It is a piece of
old dough which has been allowed to reach a high level of fermentation. This is sometimes known as sourdough
(or yeast). This substance is quite
inedible but when a piece of sourdough (se'or) is kneaded together with a
mixture of flour and water, it accelerates the rising process and creates
"chametz."
Rabbi Alexandri sees 'se'or' as a metaphor for the powerful drives and
inflammatory passions that lurk within us all.
Our mind has the ability to distort the reality of our vision, inflate
our desires and draw us in directions that we would never take if we were to
follow only our cold rational side.
The impulse to evil ferments and corrupts.
It makes flour and water appear as soft warm enticing bread. Chametz is the evil inclination! It is the "yeast in the dough" which
allows us to lose full control, which makes us irrational and leads us to
impropriety.
This powerful metaphor explains well the impropriety of chametz on God's
altar - for we stand before God in truth and sobriety - but it doesn't exactly
explain the prohibition of chametz on Pesach.
Maybe we should ban chametz during the Ten Days of Penitence when we
focus on repentance and self-betterment!
ARTIFICIAL SWEETNESS
The Netziv - Rabbi Naftali Tzvi Berlin (Russia: Volozhin 1817-1893) - in
his commentary HA'EMEK DAVAR takes the theology of chametz in almost a
completely reverse direction. He
suggests that significance of chametz lies in the exercise of human control
rather than the loss of it. He also
explains why this law applies specifically to the sacrificial altar and to the
holiday of Passover.
"Scripture calls all substances which have a sweetening effect 'honey' because
honey is the classic sweetener. As
for leaven, "se'or" is a human manipulation of natural state of God's universe. It is an exercise of human
machination. God warns us not to use
these in the Temple, as the nearer one finds oneself to God, the less room there
is for human ingenuity."
He refers us to his commentary to Exodus 13:3 where he states:
"LEAVEN
MAY NOT BE EATEN (on Passover) ... matza takes no advantage of the human
technological ingenuity and creativity which allows man to raise the dough more
than simple flour and water which are created by God. Chametz is the epitome of human
involvement in nature. Thus,
unleaven is the symbol of the survival and ongoing existence of the Jewish
People as they survive solely through the spirit of God."
The Netziv sees the raising agent (se'or) and its product chametz as an
expression of human interference in nature.
Conversely, matza is an expression of the world controlled exclusively by
God. Man's discovery that sourdough
could cause bread to rise was a technological breakthrough in food technology, a
classic human manipulation of the elements of nature. Most of the time, the advancement of
civilization in this manner is welcomed by the Torah. This creativity and ingenuity is
depicted as the "divine" in man, his "image of God." Not only God, but man too, can
create!
However, in a place where God's presence manifests itself most intensely
- in the Temple - there is no place for man's creative spirit. In the Temple man is dwarfed by God. The altar of God is no place for
human food technology. On the altar,
we dedicate all the elements of God's world; the animal, vegetable and mineral;
recognizing and demonstrating that God is the source of them all. Chametz - the product of human
manufacture - has no place on the altar of God.
It would be presumptuous.
Similarly, on the festival of the miraculous birth of our nation, when an
entire nation walked to their freedom away from a tyrannical regime, without
lifting a finger of their own, we commemorate the power of God. God performed the Ten Plagues and we
had no hand in them. At the Red Sea,
the people stood huddled together, frightened, terrified in the face of the
imposing Egyptian army. Moses
instructed them:
"Stand by
and witness the deliverance which the Lord will work for you this day; for the
Egyptians that you see today you will never see again. The Lord will battle for you; you
hold your peace." (Ex. 14:13-14)
We stood
still and God saved the day.
Man had no part in the miracles of the Exodus. We therefore commemorate this
momentous event by refraining from contact with chametz. We refrain from human manipulation of
our most basic commodity - bread. We
proclaim that the very essence of our being comes directly and completely from
God.
THE BEGINNING OF THE ROAD
One final approach comes from a contemporary scholar - Rav Yoel Bin Nun. He notes that there are occasions
when we DO bring leaven to the Temple (although it is not offered up on the
altar itself). On Shavuot -
Pentecost - we bring two loaves of bread to the Temple (23:17). In the thanksgiving offering (a
variation of the peace offering - shelamim) three types of loaves are brought to
the Temple: Unleavened wafers - like our matzot; unleavened loaves - like pitta;
and leavened loaves - like our bread.
What is the symbolism that leaven and unleaven represent in the Temple? Leaven represents fulfillment, a
process which has gone its due course.
The ultimate supreme form of flour and water is in the form of a leaven
loaf. Unleaven, on the other hand,
is "not yet" what it aspires to be; it figuratively represents the beginning of
a yet unfulfilled process. It is
presently immature, unripe, not yet fulfilled.
It is in the early stages of a journey.
The altar of God is not a place for leaven. Before God, we are all rough round
the edges. We all have a way to go
in reaching our own personal destiny.
We have faults, room for improvement.
We cannot express ourselves before God represented by the symbol of
leaven. For we are at the beginning
of a journey. We are the unleavened;
still traveling, on the tortuous road that is human and religious betterment.
So when do we bring leaven to the temple?
Shavuot is the festival of weeks.
It is also the festival designated as the time to bring first fruits from
the new crop in the Land of Israel, to the Temple. Shavuot is linked to Pesach by the
Omer. We count seven cycles of seven from Pesach and then we celebrate Shavuot. Pesach is the start of a process. Shavuot is the end. On Pesach, we remove all leaven and
eat only unleavened. On Shavuot we
bring loaves of leaven. It is a
question of a process.
On Pesach we had our freedom.
One might revel in the euphoria of freedom and imagine that this is it. We have reached our goal, we have
achieved independence. In response,
God tells us to eat only matza, unleavened, unfulfilled bread, for seven days. Pesach begins a process. It is a cause for celebration but it
is only the start. The goal comes
seven weeks later in a festival which celebrates two things. First, it celebrates our spiritual
challenge. It is the festival of the
giving of the Torah. The Torah
embodies our challenge, our goal and our destiny.
Second, it is the festival of the Land of Israel. On Shavuot we bring the first fruits
and stress the idea that the goal is creating "a kingdom of priests and a holy
nation." A people in the land of God
living the moral law of God.
On Pesach we mark the beginning, the unleavened. Shavuot expresses everything that
embodies our national goal. It is
marked by the bringing of fully leavened, fulfilled bread.
Likewise, in the sacrifice where I express my release from a
life-threatening situation, when saved from a serious illness or the like, we
bring three loaves. The totally flat
matza wafer, the unleavened pitta loaf, and the fully risen loaf of bread. The offering describes the journey
from the depths of desperation to the heights of health and life. The symbolism of this offering tells
of the role that God played in breathing life into a seemingly hopeless, flat
situation, granting hope and salvation.
That is the role of leaven and unleaven in the thanksgiving offering. Unleaven is the beginning of the
process and it leads to fulfillment in the form of the leaven.
I wish you all a Shabbat Shalom and a
happy unleavened Pesach.
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