The basis for
observance of mitzvoth and ritual lies
in the word tzav. The
Torah does not present us with many options when it comes
to observing G-d’s
explicit commandments.
Before
the performance of a mitzvah, we are to recite a blessing that
clearly states asher tzivanu – that we have been
commanded and instructed to perform this
mitzvah. We naturally retain our free will
as to whether we wish
to perform the mitzvah or not.
But we are
to understand that
the ultimate reason
for the performance of the mitzvah
is not because we deem it to be pleasant or worthy or any other
rational human explanation for its performance. We observe and perform the mitzvah ultimately and perhaps solely because G-d has
commanded us to do so and we committed ourselves at Sinai that
we will do what we are instructed to do.
Now all of this flies
in the face of contemporary wisdom, custom and mores. We live in a
time when the right to do what
I want to do supersedes all instructions and
guidance – parental,
school or just plain good
old common good
sense. This contradiction in values and worldview lies at the heart of much of the divisions that exist within the Jewish world.
Our generation is permanently stuck
in the teenage years; it resents anyone
telling it what to
do. And since
this feeling is part of the general
package of free will that the Lord has
endowed us with, it is difficult in the extreme
to understand vtizvanu
in the absence of training, habit, intensive Jewish education and historical perspective.
It should be obvious that
people would wish
to follow good,
proven, beneficial instructions. But that certainly is not the case with
human nature. Millions
of people engage
in harmful activities that have been conclusively proven
medically to be life shortening.
Over the long run of Jewish history all of the groupings that have rejected the idea of vtizvanu have eventually disappeared from the Jewish scene. History is always unforgiving as to human foibles and grievous errors. Yet just as anti-Jewish hatred resurrects itself in all generations no matter that
history records what
a terrible toll
it always takes
on the haters, so too does the tzivanu rejecters constantly reappear amongst
us in different guises and with ever more populist names.
The rejecters are “progressive,” “democratic,” “peace and love people.” The only problem
is that they are wrong and ultimately harmful to themselves and to the Jewish people as a whole. Again, all of Jewish history and experience shows how truly wrong they are. The Lord does not allow
Himself, so to speak, to be second
guessed and His
commandments to be improved upon. The prophet
Malachi states the matter quite
succinctly: “I, the Lord, have not changed and you, the children of Israel have not been
exterminated.”
Since the Lord has not changed and the Jewish people are still around to serve as His special people, the tzivanu imperative still applies. That is why the very existence of this
parsha of Tzav is of such vital importance.
Shabat shalom, Rabbi Berle Wein
The Jewish Problem
Come,
let us deal wisely with them…” (1:10).
The Torah relates
that the Mitzrim
were afraid that
Bnei Yisroel were becoming too numerous. Looming over their heads
was the possibility that in the case of a war Bnei
Yisroel would join forces with
the enemy and
drive the Mitzrim
out of their
land. Pharaoh and his advisors devised
a course of action to prevent their
worst fears from
materializing.
The Ba’al Haggada
states “vayarei’u osanu
hamitzrim” – “the
Mitzrim dealt with
us in a malevolent manner”, as it is recorded in the Torah
“havah nischakmah lo”
– “come let us
deal wisely with them”. Why is Pharaoh’s strategizing as to how to deal with
a perceived threat viewed as a malicious
act against Bnei Yisroel? His solution and the manner in which his orders were
executed should be cited as examples of his evil
behavior, not his
desire to protect his nation’s security.
In contemporary society
we search continuously for methods by which we can categorize different conditions and behaviors. By identifying and
labeling a problem
we gain a certain
confidence that the
problem can be corrected. Unfortunately, often in our haste to identify
a situation which we are having difficulty controlling, we mislabel a condition and create a problem where no problem
exists. Particularly when dealing with children, care
must be taken to ensure that
we, as parents
and educators, do not label
our children as “problems”.
Even when the correct diagnosis has been made,
we must proceed
with caution to ensure
that we do not transform a child with
a problem into
a “problem child”.
The grossest injustice
that can be done to a person
is to label him as a problem.
The damage caused
to a child’s self-esteem due to the
manner in which
he is perceived by others
and consequently comes to view himself, can be irreparable.
Whereas
the harm which
Bnei Yisroel suffered at the hands
of the Mitzrim
lasted only for the
duration of time
they spent in servitude and affected only
those who were
present, the perception created by Pharaoh that Jews are a public menace still haunts us today. The ultimate act of evil perpetrated against Bnei Yisroel
by Pharaoh was labeling them
as “the Jewish Problem”.
1.1:9,10
Grasp the Moment •
Torah.org
Not everyone has the privilege of saying “thank
you” to the Creator by bringing a thanksgiving offering to the Holy Temple. The Talmud tells
us that only
people who were recently delivered from extreme
danger – an ocean voyage,
a desert journey, a serious illness, a term of imprisonment – can bring
this special sacrifice. Why is this
so? Why can’t we
express our gratitude for other momentous occasions in our lives by bringing this selfsame thanksgiving offering?
Furthermore, we find an anomaly
in the laws
of this sacrifice. The thanksgiving offering
falls into the general
category of shelamim, peace offerings. However,
we read in this week’s Torah portion that there
is less time
allowed for eating
the meat of the sacrifice. The peace offering can be eaten
for two days,
but the thanksgiving offering for only
one day. Why does
the
Torah reduce the eating time of this
sacrifice?
The answers to these questions are rooted in the fundamental concepts of the sacrificial
service. The
purpose of the sacrifices is to foster
closeness between the Creator and ourselves. When we bring a sacrifice to the altar
we are symbolically offering ourselves up to Him, subsuming our hearts, our minds, our souls, our very lives
in the universal embrace of the Divine Presence. Eating the meat of the sacrifice, the Talmud explains, is an extension of the sacrificial service.
Through the act of ingesting
the sanctified meat, we connect
to the transcendent concepts and symbolism of the sacrifice not only through
our intellectual and emotional faculties but through
our purely physical ones as well.
In this way,
the experience becomes
total and the connection is absolute.
When we bring a thanksgiving offering, we
take advantage of moments of outstanding inspiration to forge a closer relationship with our Creator.
Life is full
of little inspirations and numerous opportunities to express our gratitude to Hashem. Most
of these, however, do not move us to our core, and
therefore, they are not powerful enough to warrant
a sacrifice. But when
a person is reprieved after
staring death in the face,
he is totally energized and exhilarated, and the words
of thanksgiving and
joy he directs
heavenward emanate from the essence of his being.
This sort of inspiration can be brought
to the Temple
and presented to Hashem in the form
of a thanksgiving sacrifice. This
sort of inspiration can be channeled
to foster an everlasting closeness.
But inspiration is a fleeting thing. Like
a flash of lightning, it illuminates our surroundings in painfully sharp clarity and then is gone, leaving
only a memory
that slowly fades away.
During that moment,
we gain a totally different and highly vivid
perspective of what is important and what is trivial. During
that moment, we have the ability to find new direction and meaning for our daily
existence. Later, it is too late. Therefore, the Torah limits the time period for
eating the thanksgiving offering. Grasp the
moment! If we wait, it will be gone.
A high-level royal minister was deeply
involved in a national crisis situation.
During this time, while the king and his ministers
conferred daily to discuss developments, the king’s birthday came and went
without the customary celebration. The crisis eventually passed, and the
conduct of government affairs returned to normal. Shortly thereafter, the
minister purchased a beautiful birthday gift and sent it to the king.
A few weeks
later, the king and his minister were
discussing the crisis
and what could
be done to prevent future recurrences.
“We can’t afford
to go through something like
this again,” said
the king with
a wry smile. “Do you realize
that I didn’t
even receive any
birthday gifts this
years because of the crisis?”
“Your majesty, have you forgotten?” the minister protested. “I sent you a very beautiful gift. Didn’t you receive it?”
“Indeed, I did,”
said the king.
“And I thank
you. Had you given it to me on my birthday, I would have perceived it as an expression of your joyous
celebration of such
an important day in my life.
But it was
given several weeks
later. It did
not represent your
sense of joy
but rather your sense
of obligation. Much
as I appreciate it, I do not consider it a true birthday
gift.”
In our own lives,
we are often profoundly inspired during times of great joy or, Heaven forbid, great distress. On these occasions, we are inclined
to take stock of our existence and resolve to make important changes, either to improve our
relationship with our Creator, to correct our flaws and
shortcomings or simply
to spend more
time with our families. When this happens, it is important to translate our
inspiration into action
immediately, for if we
wait until we get around
to it, more often than
not we never will.
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