Responding To The Call of God: Vayikra

Responding To The Call of God:  Vayikra

D’var Torah by Rabbi Boaz D. Heilman

Dedicated to the memory of my father, my teacher, Z’ev ben Aryeh v’Yonah

on the 9th anniversary of his passing.

While en route to The Promised Land, the Torah takes us on an excursion. Parashat Vayikra, the first portion of the Book of Leviticus (Chapters 1-5), draws a map for us as we set out—not in search of any physical location near or far, but rather inwards, to the core of our souls.

The emphasis of this portion is on sacrifice.  Hence the non-Hebrew name of the book, Leviticus.  The Levites, one of the twelve tribes of Israel, were the temple functionaries.  A specific group of Levites were known as the kohen (kohannim, pl.).  This group did the actual sacrificing, carrying out the ritual with meticulous attention to all its prescribed details.

Some of today’s readers of this book might find it repelling.  The intricate and detailed description of the slaughter of animals and birds is almost enough to turn anyone into a strict vegan.

And besides, what benefit is there to learning about sacrifices (whether animal or not) today, when the whole practice is no longer extant?

But a deeper study of Vayikra would lead us to a deeper understanding of some of the most important lessons the Torah would have us learn, so important that they were called “holy.”  More than merely values, these lessons became law for all Israel, throughout its generations.

Even though the Temple system of sacrifices ended with the destruction of the Temple in 70 CE, Jews have continued to study, remember and observe the spirit of the laws.

It’s no wonder that Vayikra was traditionally the first book of the Torah that a child would study in cheder, the one-room schools of the Old Country.

Vayikra takes us back to the days when kosher, pre-salted and soaked chicken and beef were not available on our supermarket shelves.  In older days, even in rural villages one could always find a shochet—a ritual slaughterer—even if your town was only one in a circuit in which he traveled and worked.  Friday nights or on holiday evenings, you always wanted a chicken in your pot, or some meat (if you could find or afford it) slowly stewing away, fragrant with vegetables and spices.  The shochet, the slaughterer, had to know all the laws relating to the kosher way of slaughtering an animal.  You could trust him to be as merciful as possible when taking the life of an animal.  You would respect him—and his bloody apron—for taking on a task most people couldn’t stomach (pun intended).  Chickens and cows were valuable commodities back then, and you treated them well, not only because you knew them well, but also because they provided you with sustenance and food.  And that’s a lot more than we can say about ourselves—or the food we eat—today. 

But there’s another side to Vayikra.  This book and this portion aren’t only about sacrifice.  What Vayikra is also very much about is the person who brings the sacrifice to the priest in the first place.  It’s about you and me and how we live, behave and conduct ourselves.

Vayikra has a recipe for every moment and time in our life:  When we wish to offer thanks or show respect; when we have guilt bearing down heavily on our souls; when we wish to absolve ourselves of our sins, whether committed knowingly or accidentally, intentionally or by error.  Vayikra addresses our need to be given a second chance, to be able to correct our mistakes and then to start again, this time on the right path.

In short, even with all its meticulous attention to veins, sinews, schmaltz, blood and other unsavories, Vayikra also teaches us about right and wrong.  It helps us distinguish between a sin we had not intended to commit but found out about much later, and the sin of intentionally, deliberately, breaking the boundaries.  We learn that there is even a difference between individual sins and collective sins.  The former are ours alone.  The latter are sins we commit as a community.  Racism, for example, or bigotry of any other kind.  Not surprisingly, national or spiritual leaders are held to a higher standard.  You can tell by the kind of sacrifice they have to offer.  There’s much more involved here; a pinch of salt or even a handful of frankincense simply wouldn’t do in such cases.

It’s a whole system of living.  You show appreciation for what you have, you learn to share your bounty of blessings.  In turn you are shown respect even if you are poor, even if you are unable to offer much more than a few grains of barley.  You learn to think before you speak or utter a promise or an oath.  It’s easier to keep silent than to take back a word spoken in harshness or in anger.  Vayikra instills in you compassion for other living beings, be they human or animal.  Vayikra teaches you to be respectful of others and their property, to be mindful of their rights, to acknowledge the Divine presence in every living being.

Most importantly, Vayikra teaches us that there is redress for the wrongs we might commit.  We can make the wrong right again; we can repair relationships, we can mend hurt feelings.  But the way to do it is through what is commonly known as mindful consciousness.  Be aware of what you are doing or even thinking.  Think before you act.

Posted on a bookshelf in my late father’s library was a note that read, “Put your mind in gear before you put your mouth in motion.”  Vayikra said it first.

Vayikra means, “God called out.”  The rest of this parasha and book consist of how we respond to this call.  The choice is given, as is the way to correct the wrong response.

© 2014 by Boaz D. Heilman