VaYikra

Parashat VaYikra
March 20, 2010
5 Nissan 5770
Vol. 19 No. 24

This week's Halacha file: Genetic Engineering in Halacha – Part 3

This week's issue is sponsored by Ceil and David Olivestone in memory of Ceil's mother, Irene Weinberg, and David's parents, Bernard and Monty Olivestone

Sweet and Sour
by Josh Blachorsky
Among the many unofficial customs on Rosh HaShanah, eating honey cake as a dessert has become relatively traditional. Full of sweet honey-filled flavor, the cake is a symbol for sweet new year. However, both of the two main ingredients in this innocuous cake are prohibited for offering on the Mizbei’ach, as the Torah writes, “Kol HaMinchah Asher Takrivu LaHashem Lo Tei’aseh Chameitz; Ki Chol Se’or VeChol Devash Lo Taktiru Mimenu Isheh LaHashem.” ‚Every meal offering may not become leavened, for you shall not burn any leavened bread or honey as a fire-offering to Hashem.‛ (VaYikra 2:11).

The Rambam, in his philosophical work Moreh Nevuchim, explains that leavened bread and honey were foods used heavily in pagan practices, and in order to differentiate Jews with pagans, using them for a Minchah is forbidden. At first, the Rambam’s approach seems very enticing; however, with further analysis it does not seem to hold merit. Firstly, his answer empties the prohibition of religious meaning; he merely contrasts it with dead, ancient practices. Furthermore, in the Pesukim before this one, the word Matzah appears to be a Milah Manchah, or a central word, occurring numerous times. By contrasting Chameitz with Matzah the Torah seems to be hinting towards the prohibition of eating Chameitz on Pesach and the corresponding Mitzvah to eat Matzah. In such a deep, philosophical book as Moreh Nevuchim, Rambam surely would not settle for an explanation so simple.

Perhaps the Rambam is hinting at a deeper idea. By differentiating Bnei Yisrael from the other nations via Korbanot, the Rambam is showing that the essence of Korbanot makes Bnei Yisrael different than the nations. Korbanot is the paradigm of a Chok, a law that intentionally does not present any visible rhyme nor reason. Likewise, the Isur of eating Chameitz on Pesach is also a Chok. And yet, the Jewish people go to great lengths to not violate this prohibition. Therefore, the Rambam uses these unique scenarios to extol the virtues of the Jewish people against the other nations: that Bnei Yisrael follow Chukim wholeheartedly.

This explanation shows the great importance of Chukim. While on the surface they appear quite outlandish, they contain a much deeper level of significance within them. Though they are not meant to be understood, these laws must be followed if we, as Am Yisrael, mean to stay true servants of Hashem, and keep the unique, eternal covenant that we have with Him.

Korbanot: A Constant Connection
by Yonah Rossman

Recently I, as well as many other 11th graders all over the United States, received their driver’s licenses. One of the first or, rather, most important, skills in driving is learning how to accelerate or decelerate. Both must be done slowly and constantly; to bring your car to a stop for example, it is far more advisable to keep your foot slightly on the brake until the car comes to a near stop, instead of slamming it to the floor at the last moment. The same is true by a green light. Speed up gradually.

When the Jewish people left the devastated Mitzrayim after the ten great plagues and then experienced the pomp and splendor when receiving the Torah at Har Sinai, their eyes were exploding with awe, and their hearts filled with an overwhelming Emunah in Hashem. But as soon as the miracles concluded and the festivities died down, they commit the tragedy of Cheit HaEigel. Why? Because days after the unparalleled closeness with Hashem at Har Sinai subsided, they found themselves bereft of that connection, lacking an avenue to reaffirm that bond on a constant basis. Therefore, they quickly became unable to relate to Him except in the inappropriate manner of the Eigel.
So to prevent such an occasion in the future, He provided us a more concrete, consistent way to have a relationship: the Mishkan, and at its heart, the Korbanot discussed in this week’s Parashah. Through the Tamid Shel Boker and the Tamid Shel Bein HaArbaim, the daily morning and afternoon offerings, we can maintain that crucial link, day in and day out.

Today we face the same challenge, and though we unfortunately no longer merit to offer Korbanot, Tefillah Kineged Korbanot Tiknum, institutionalized Tefillah was introduced in its stead to accomplish that goal of maintaining a level of stability—three prayers a day. The Mishnah (Kiddushin 1:10) teaches “Kol SheYeshno BeMishnah Mikrah UViDerech Eretz Lo BiMheira Yechateh,” ‚One who is involved in Tanach, Torah SheBaal Peh, and Derech Eretz will not quickly fall to sin‛. Our strength is in our stability. Not to say we should never have higher, holier days—we recognize Yamim Tovim as special events on our calendars—but most important is that we have that medium. The consistency of a daily, 5-minute period of time set aside for Torah study is as essential as that of a heartbeat, no palpitation to lapse lest it result in regrettable consequences.

The events of this past week in our communities, causing widespread and persistent power outages, tremendous damage to property, and, Rachmana LeTzlan, even loss of life, should provide a test case for this integral value. We are affected now, but in a week, a month, will we remember? Will the reverence generated by the wind, rain, fallen trees and surrounding chaos storm through our consciousness tomorrow, or languish in the dustbin of the forgotten past? As Rav Berel Wein likes to say, ‚The world has a short term memory.‛ We need to experience these awe-inspiring events and carry them forward, not allow them to taper away until we find ourselves as removed from Hashem as Bnei Yisrael by the Eigel. Let them penetrate and uplift our Tefillot, our post-Korban venue for forging our relationship with Hashem. It is not the big miracles that stick with us; it is the consistency.

Where Matters
by Dovid Gottesman

Following a series of Parshiyot that describe the construction of the Mishkan, Parashat VaYikra begins the discussion of Korbanot, sacrifices. Rambam and Ramban have a noteworthy Machloket as to the main reason for, and nature of, Korbanot.

Rambam explains in his Moreh Nevuchim (in his Mishneh Torah, however, he adopts a dramatically different approach) that Hashem understands that separating Bnei Yisrael completely from the practices of the rest of the world is exceedingly difficult for Bnei Yisrael to handle, and since the way the nations of the world serve their gods is by sacrificing animals, Hashem makes the transition to serving Him easier; He allows Bnei Yisrael to serve with sacrifices specifically directed to Him. Rambam compares prohibiting Bnei Yisrael from bringing sacrifices to Hashem to prohibiting them from praying to Hashem, fasting on His behalf, or asking Him for help.

The proof, Rambam says, is that Hashem realizes in Parashat BeShalach that if Bnei Yisrael leave Egypt, “Derech Eretz Pelishtim…Pen Yinachem HaAm Birotam Milchama VeShavu Mitzraima,” ‚The way of the Pelishtim< they would reconsider when they witness a war and go back to Egypt‛ (Shemot 13:17). Hashem knows that Bnei Yisrael want to be like the rest of the nations, and to draw them away from idolatry, Hashem allows practices similar to those of the rest of the world. Rambam further explains that Korbanot do not contain an inherent value but are rather just a way to appease Bnei Yisrael. This is indicated in Shemuel I, as the Pasuk states, “HaChefetz LaHashem BeOlot UZvachim Kishmoa BeKol Hashem,” ‚Is Hashem as happy with Olot and Zevachim as He is with obedience to his voice?‛ (Shemuel I 15:22), as well as in Yeshayah, which states, “Lama Li Rov Zivcheichem, Yomar Hashem,” ‚‘Why do I need your numerous sacrifices?’ says Hashem,‛ (Yeshayah 1:11).

Ramban vigorously disagrees, as he asserts that it would be foolish to claim that the point of Korbanot is to ‚counter the wicked people of the world.‛ The Torah itself says that Hashem accepts Hevel and Noach’s Korbanot. Hevel and Noach lived in an era in which Bnei Yisrael as a nation did not exist and would thus not be influenced by idolatry. Instead, Ramban claims that the purpose of Korbanot is to show Hashem that we deserve the slaughtering and the burning of the sacrifices. Essentially, the Korbanot replace the punishments that we deserve for our sins.

The Meshech Chochmah explains that in actuality, no Machloket between Rambam and Ramban exists. Rambam discusses sacrificing an animal on a Bamah, a private altar. Such an action, outside the framework of the Beit HaMikdash, leaves little meaning beyond simply replicating our neighbor’s conduct within an acceptable framework, which one might loosely parallel to explanations of the concept of Aishet Yifat Toar, taking an attractive woman on the battlefield. Ramban, however, discusses sacrificing an animal in the Mishkan or Beit HaMikdash, which Rambam concurs, has a ‘soothing smell’. In this case, the sacrifices no longer connect to those of the pagans; they embrace an independent significance in our relationship with Hashem. Indeed, this differentiation would seem to explain why today we may not sacrifice without a Beit HaMikdash: since the Yetzer Hara for idolatry no longer exists as it did when Bnei Yisrael wished to imitate their pagan neighbors, there is no reason to sacrifice animals.

This distinction can offer a valuable message about the impact of location. Two actions, done exactly the same but in two variant circumstances and atmospheres, can express entirely divergent messages.

Remez HaShavua
by Neil Bodner

A flurry of commentaries offer explanations of the small Aleph at the end of the word “VaYikra” in this week’s Parashah, often focusing on the idea that due to his humility, Moshe Rabbeinu was hesitant to write that Hashem called to him, so instead he shrunk the Aleph.

The Midrash Tanchuma states that Moshe put the extra ink left over from the shrunken Aleph onto his head, radiating his countenance with the light of Hashem’s glory. In a further act of humility, at the end of Parashat Ki Tisa (Shemot 34:33) we read that Moshe placed a מַסְוֶה, a covering, on his face to mask this illumination.

The Remez: The word for the letter Aleph in Hebrew is אלף which shares the same Gematria (111) as that of מַסְוֶה, because both truly epitomize Moshe’s humility. In fact, this letter Aleph and Moshe’s expression of humility seem so deeply connected to Parashat VaYikra as a whole that there are a total of 111 Pesukim in the Parashah as well.