A Sacred Task: Tzav—Leviticus 6:1-8:36

A Sacred Task: D’var Torah on Parashah Tzav—Leviticus 6:1-8:36
Rabbi Boaz D. Heilman

March 26, 2010 11 Nisan 5770

In this week’s portion—Tzav—the Torah continues its detailed instructions regarding the sacrifices that were to be offered by the priests at the Tent of Meeting and, later, at the Temple in Jerusalem. However, unlike last week’s portion (Vayikra), with its exhaustive descriptions of the various sacrifices themselves, in Tzav the emphasis shifts to the priest—the intermediary between God and humanity.

The role of the priest has to be carefully drawn, since it invests so much power in a flesh-and-blood human being. The perks of his position, along with potential corruption, can lead to disastrous results if not carefully watched. The Torah portion therefore goes into great detail in setting down the priest’s duties and responsibilities—if only as a counterbalance for the pitfalls that might divert him from the proper performance of his sacred duties.

The portion relates the process of the priest’s ordination—the ritual by which he is transformed from an ordinary person into the representative of all that is holy in our lives. It is an intricate ceremony that is public and intimate at once, full of spectacle but also of richly nuanced details. There is special clothing with which—after dipping in a ritual bath—the priest is clothed; several sacrifices are offered. For seven days then the priest must sit at the entrance to the Tent of Meeting. Situated, as it were, directly between the sacred and the ordinary, he is in a perfect spot to understand and realize the dual nature of his responsibility: His job is not merely to serve God, but also to represent the people. His relationship to the One is as important as his relationship with the other. Both are equally weighty; both are sacred.

Then, finally, a curious ritual is performed: A few drops of the blood of a sacrificed ram are applied to the ridge of the priest’s right ear, to his right thumb, and finally to his right big toe. Now, just a few verses earlier, the injunction is given to all Jews throughout the generations not to eat any blood—the sign of life, God’s greatest gift. Now the same symbol is used to mark off a priest, dedicated to God’s work, from any common or ordinary human. The rich symbolism cannot be misunderstood: The priest is charged with nothing less than responsibility for all life.

Why the ear? Because through the ear we hear one another. The eye can lie: A smile, no matter how forced, can hide a hundred pains. But the voice is always true—as long as we listen carefully. The intonation, the “music” (as my mother likes to call it), the rhythm and speed of our speech—these give away our true emotions. It is to this inner voice that the priest must pay close attention.

Why the thumb? Because it is with our hands that we conduct our business. We, like the priest, must never forget that the work of our hands must be honest and direct. Our hands must reach to one another, and in fact all around us. With our hands we tend to the needy, with them we work the soil. With our hands we mend nets and cook our food, we weave clothing, we heal and we love.

And why the toe? Because it is our feet that keep us steady and well balanced on our path. The priest couldn’t just sit there. His road was well marked. His charge was clear: to go to the place where he was most needed—to take care of the poor, to visit the sick, to bring hope to the disheartened.

The relevance of Tzav to our own lives is clear. With the Temple in disrepair, we become the priests, we fulfill our destiny of becoming a Goy kadosh—a holy nation. It is directly to us that God and the Torah direct the laws of this portion. It is we who must be meticulous in our work and in our relationships. Are we listening to one another? Are we reaching to the needy? Are we standing in place—or are we walking, perhaps even running, to be of help wherever we are needed.

The Hebrew word that forms the title of this Torah portion—Tzav—comes from the same root as the word mitzvah (a charitable good deed, a commandment). Holiness isn’t just one line that extends from God to us. It also exists in the relationships that we maintain with one another. Maintaining these connections is our responsibility, our holy and sacred duty for all time. May we fulfill it well.


© Boaz D. Heilman, 2010