By Michael R. Mantell, Ph.D.
SAN DIEGO — This week, in parasha Vayikra, we see a powerful message coming alive behind Jewish ritual and tradition – if we approach our learning inside the parasha with an open heart and a desire to grow.
Rav Wolbe, a prominent 20th-century Jewish educator and author, offers insights into parasha Vayikra, the first portion of the book of Leviticus. He notes that the opening word of the portion, “vayikra,” which means “and He called,” is written with a small aleph. Notice this book didn’t begin with the very common vay’dabeir, “Hashem spoke” or vayomer, “Hashem said,” but rather, “Hashem called.” He’s been calling to us ever since. With a tiny letter at the end of the word Vayikra, an aleph, the Zohar tells us, the near silence of the aleph is Hashem’s method of teaching us what’s needed to connect with him – silence, a quiet space to hear, feel and see the His Presence.
This, according to Rav Wolbe, teaches us the importance of humility in our relationship with Hashem. Just as the aleph is small and unassuming, so too should we approach Hashem with humility and a sense of awe, remembering that awe commonly leaves us with a feeling of ahhhhh.
While Moshe heard Hashem’s call, Rashi tells us that others close by, did not hear. They couldn’t make sense of what they heard – they heard other noises. Imagine if they, if we, would stop the distracting noise, quiet our minds, our hearts, our souls and be fully present. Imagine if we could be so still, so quiet, that we felt that connection fully as He called to us to be close with Him.
Some call that being “mindful.” I’d prefer to hear Vayikra and call it “miracleful.” By turning down the distracting noise that fills our world, we can hear the Voice of Hashem. By quieting our own negative voices and predictions we can better hear the voice of Hashem. By improving our spiritual antennae, we can hear the voice of Hashem that calls to us continuously. Imagine if we heard Him as often as He calls to us.
The value of silence התבודדות, “self-seclusion,” hisboydedus, is described by Rebbe Nachman of Breslov as the highest and greatest virtue of all spiritual practice in Likutay Moharan II, 25. Reb Nachman teaches us that Avraham, Yitzchak, Yaakov, Moshe, David and Torah leaders of every generation were quiet enough to hear the Voice of Hashem. How can we do that today? Simply expand and embrace the quiet space, the small aleph, that allows Hashem’s “still, small voice” to be heard, seen, and felt, to the exclusion of all other noise. That’s the lesson of Vayikra – not sacrifices or leprosy, but communication, genuine closeness one to another… and to Hashem.
In the parasha, we learn about the various types of offerings that were brought in the Tabernacle and later in the Temple. These offerings were brought for a variety of reasons, including to express gratitude, to seek forgiveness, and to fulfill vows. From a psychological perspective, the act of bringing an offering may be viewed as a way of externalizing one’s internal state. By physically bringing an offering to the Tabernacle or Temple, the individual can express his/her emotions and intentions in a very tangible way. This can be a powerful tool for emotional regulation and can help individuals to process and cope with difficult emotions and connect with their inner selves and with Hashem.
Rav Elyashiv, a Torah scholar and Halachic authority, emphasizes the importance of approaching the Torah with a deep understanding of its spiritual significance, and not just focusing on the physical details. He taught that by doing so, we can deepen our connection to Hashem and live a more meaningful and fulfilling life. of dedicating ourselves fully to serve without holding back any part of ourselves.
For example, the act of bringing an offering may be viewed as a way of taking responsibility, including emotional responsibility, for one’s behavior. By acknowledging and accepting one’s missteps, asking for forgiveness through bringing an offering, an individual may be better able to move forward and make amends for any harm he/she may have caused.
The Hebrew word for sacrifice, “korban,” is related to the word “karov,” meaning draw near or come close. The essence of sacrifice may be seen here to relate to the spiritual intention and devotion that one brings to an act, in this case as an opportunity for us to draw close to Hashem and to express our essential emotions for overall health of gratitude, repentance and similar heartfelt emotions.
Returning to the insights from Rav Wolbe, he describes the various types of sacrifices in the parasha representing different aspects of human nature and character that benefit from refinement. Thus, “olah” which is completely burnt on the altar, symbolizes the need to surrender one’s ego and desires to Hashem. The “mincha” offering, consisting of grain and oil, symbolizes the need to cultivate humility and gratitude in the face of abundance. The “chatat” and “asham” offerings, brought for inadvertent or deliberate transgressions, teach us the importance of taking responsibility for our actions and seeking forgiveness.
Rav Meir Soloveitchik notes that in this week’s reading, the process of offering a sacrifice involved a deep and personal spiritual journey. The person offering the sacrifice, he notes, was required to introspect, and examine their own motives and actions, and to seek to improve themselves and their relationship with Hashem.
On the notion of intentionality, we see in Rav Wolbe’s insights that the offerings were to be brought with specific intentions and in a specific manner, and that this attention to detail reflected the importance of mindfulness and intentionality in our spiritual lives. The Chasam Sofer, a prominent Orthodox rabbi and Torah scholar who lived in the 18th and 19th centuries, also emphasizes the importance of intention in the act of sacrifice. He explains that the physical act of offering the sacrifice is not enough. One also needs to have the proper intention and devotion for the sacrifice to be accepted by Hashem. He notes that this applies not only to sacrifices, but to all aspects of religious life, and that intention and devotion are critical components of true religious practice.
By extension, for example, Rabbi Zelig Pliskin emphasizes the importance of being mindful and intentional in our speech. We learn of the laws of lashon hara and see how the sacrifices can teach us to be careful with our words, those we say and those we do not say, which have the power of hurting or healing.
Indeed, as Rabbi Hanoch Teller informs us, even though the Temple no longer stands and the korbanot are no longer offered, the concepts and ideals embodied in these offerings continue to be relevant to our Jewish life today.
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Michael R. Mantell, Ph.D., prepares a weekly D’var Torah for Young Israel of San Diego, where he and his family are members. They are also active members of Congregation Adat Yeshurun. He may be contacted via michael.mantell@sdjewishworld.com