"And it came to pass on the eighth day…"
This week's parasha opens with the revelation of an additional day that Hashem inserted into the program of the Mishkan's consecration (which was originally planned for seven days in Sefer Shemot, the Book of Exodus). Rav Hanan Shlesinger teaches that the purpose for the extra day was to atone for the sin of the golden calf. This apparent "afterthought" signifies a defining characteristic of Am Yisrael-teshuva: recognizing the need for change that we may align ourselves with Hashem's will and merit the blessings in store for us. The seven-day week recognizes creation as it is. The eighth day signifies something attainable through connection to something beyond, for example the eight days of Hanukkah and the miracles that led to the re-consecration of another Temple.
"This month shall be for you the first of months." (Sefer Shemot)
This is Shabbos Mvorchim, the Shabbos in which we bless the new month. Although Rosh Hashana is considered new year's day for the world, Nissan-the month of Pesach-is "for you [the Jewish People] the first of months." There is something patently different about Am Yisrael for which we go according to our own calendar. At this moment we stand at the threshold of a uniquely Jewish "Rosh Hashana." That sense of transition is especially palpable for Israelis and Yeshiva students, who begin a month-long break next week. "The month of Aviv," Spring, is felt as an awakening. Winter is pregnancy and Spring is birth. As the recognition of a new year, it is associated with teshuva-the "beginning" in a cycle that culminates with the next Rosh Hashana.
At this point in our calendar, we face the eighth month since Rosh Hashana. You recently received mechazeik and tochachot (encouragement and criticism) from your friends and rabbonim in their drunken, honest, and revealing state that only Purim can bring out of us, making your identity and lifepath a bit clearer-just the prescription for the personal "hagadah," storytelling, that Pesach will require. You take these days to understand yourself enough that by Pesach time you can tell your story, in the sense that "each person should see himself as if he personally went out of Mitzrayim (Egypt)." You seek clarity to recognize your exodus-of your past as well as in your future-that you may be liberated from the mitzrayim, "the narrow place," that tells you that you are a still a constricted slave-to your physical desires, or to your possessions, or to your ego telling you that you need to raise yourself above others.
"And it came to pass on the eighth day…"
The eighth day also marks another uniquely Jewish practice that signifies our changing nature-brit milah, circumcision, the consecration of a boy into the Jewish people. As the place of yesod, the brit is the place of connection to the world. Brit signifies that Hashem's creation is not complete; the Jew must change himself and sanctify his connection to the world.
This year, Nissan marks the eighth month since Rosh Hashanah. On this eighth month, we circumcise our lips. The sages teach that Pesach breaks down as peh sach, "the mouth that speaks," to tell a story, to tell our story. We continue the open-hearted truth-telling of Purim. We used our lips for holy words-Torah, prayer, and especially kind words, encouragement, and compliments to those around us. This serves two functions: it helps them understand themselves that they may tell their own story, and it purifies our own lips to speak truth and draw out the holiness of our own story.
The complementary theme of this week's parasha is distinguishing: not only clear distinctions such as between clean and unclean animals, but also the gray areas such as between when to eat an offering vs. when it is not appropriate, and between holy incense offering vs. "strange fire." That episode is followed by the command not to drink wine in the Mishkan, specifically because it compromises the ability to differentiate between things. This ability is crucial in the work we face in these months. Permitted speech-words of truth and goodness-vs. non-permitted speech-flattery and tale-bearing. And matzah, representing the simply pure, good, inner you vs. leaven, representing the puffiness of ego that prevents you from finding yourself beneath.
This is the time to distinguish between the myth of who we are vs. the true story that unfolds, in its timeless truth, with greater beauty each passing year. The leaven of our prideful self-image obscures the simple truth of our story. The Hagadah can be interpreted as "an Aramean (therefore idol-worshipping) slave was my forefather." We learn in Mishna Pesachim to tell the story to "go from disgrace to honor." Only in honesty can we see the intense beauty of our humanity playing out in the details of our lives that make sense months and years down the line, revealing our unique role in concert with those around us.
We have only to circumcise our hearts and lips and assert our ability to distinguish between what is really necessary for our lives to be a dream lived out, vs. the tempting pastries and fillings that sour as the short-lived sugar-high crashes in regret and lost opportunity.
This year, may our dreams be based in reality and love, the two elements that define our story and make us a star beyond the transience of today. May we merit that our story become a song to sing with our brothers and sisters in the place we come together to recognize Hashem as our helper and the One Who saves us from what might have been. He holds the key to the greatest story, the story waiting to burst out of you in love and song, as it makes whole the story of Am Yisrael in the epic of life on earth.