(in loving memory of Uzi Fischer Z"L)
Friends - well, the book of VaYikra (Leviticus) pretty much separates the men/women from the boys/girls. This stuff is nitty gritty, blood and guts technical explanation of the different sacrifices, why they were brought, how they were cut up, where the blood went, etc. Really, though, and I am not just saying this so I can squeeze out yet another article from my pinky finger, this book is the closest yet to our actual experience. If you think about it, though Genesis and Exodus are full of amazing stories, we cannot relate in a literal way to the Flood, to Abraham and the binding of Isaac, to Ya'akov dressing as his brother Eisav and stealing the blessings, to literal slavery, to literal exodus, to Har Sinai and the giving of the Torah, to the literal golden calf. But the sacrifices mentioned in this week's parasha come out of emotions we can relate to - wanting to be closer to G-d, wanting to be cleansed of a certain character flaw, having messed up and needing to fix it. We, 2000 years after the last sacrifice in the Temple, still want that.
I was happy to contribute whatever silver and gold I had while we were building the structure of the mishkan (tabernacle). With the mishkan we firmly established our relationship to Hashem. It was in jeopardy after the sin of the calf, but Hashem agreed to maintain His covenantal relationship with us through the mishkan. And now that the relationship is in place, ready to go, all systems functioning, so, uh, now what? There is only so much time and energy one can spend building the structure of a relationship. At some point one must, well, relate. But it was easy to contribute gold and silver, as grandiose as they are. Comes a time when Hashem wants his beautiful dwelling place awash with the blood of animals - the content that this structure is built to hold.
And that content is the substance of life - the pains and illusions, closeness and distance, self-reflection. Blood is not glamorous, but it is real. "The life is in the blood."
It is written that one should begin learning about a holiday 30 days before it happens. That is the building of the structure. For Purim, that has a lot to do with knowing the characters and what they represent - Haman and his Tree of Knowledge, Esther and the hidden Torah, Mordecai the Tzaddik. But once one has learned who they are, what they represent in our lives today, then it is time (as my high school chemistry teacher used to say) to "Plug and chug". It is time to plug our own lives into these sockets of energy, to bring forth our confessions, our needs, our hopes and our fears, in order to allow them to be transformed by the structure we have put into place. There is a short story in tractate Megillah where, after Rava mentions that a person is required to be drunk on Purim, somebody -- an Amora whose name escapes me -- says to his student/attendant on the afternoon of Purim, "Where is everybody?" Meaning, I am supposed to teach now. And the other says, "Well, I suppose they are tarud - busy, involved -- in their meal." Life doesn't pass through the structures we create for it, no matter how perfect they are.
Purim is the day when all the content comes out - the structure is actually built for that. It's supposed to happen, supposed to be messy. You're really supposed to throw up on your rabbi's floor (you know who you are!). Because we all are messy, we are all unresolved, blissfully needy, completely horrendously attractive, altogether one step away from falling completely apart, no doubt about it completely in need of a total overhaul on every level. We are completely unaware of our deepest potential, and the magnitude (and ultimate ridiculousness) of the barriers preventing that potential from being revealed. There is a lot of stuff that needs to come up and out for us to reach that blissful place of drunk, sleeping peacefully, at the Altar of G-d.
Rav Gavriel Goldfeder
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Rav Gavriel Goldfeder is one of the first semicha recipients of the yeshiva. A graduate of Drew University in Religious Studies, he came to Bat Ayin after stints in other yeshivot and found a spiritual and intellectual home. Here he met his wife, Ketriellah, who was a student in our short-lived Women's Yeshiva. Upon graduation, Gavriel took the position of rabbi of the Aish Kodesh Congregation in Boulder, Colorado and together with Ketriellah and their growing family, they are busy creating (in Gavriel's words), "a community infused with Torah values, passion for learning and prayer, consideration of one another, and action, as well as deep celebration of the joys of life." |