|
|
March 19, 1999/2 Nisan 5759, Vol. 51, No. 25
Bring God to your table
Torah Study
RABBI ISMAR SCHORSCH
Vayikra/Leviticus 1:1-5:26
I feel a deep attachment to parashat Vayikra, the Torah portion on which my son celebrated his bar mitzvah. I prepared him for the occasion as my father had once prepared me, and as my son will some day prepare his children. I taught him the Torah portion, according to the eastern European cantillation common in American, and the haftorah, according to the less familiar German cantillation on which I was raised. My son performed them at his bar mitzvah at high speed without a hitch.
The ritual added yet another bond between my son and me, and between him and his grandfather, for on that Shabbat morning my father addressed him with words of prophetic intensity. The joining of generations symbolized the renewal of an ancient covenant.
This week's Torah portion may appear to bear little relevance to contemporary Jewish families, as it deals with the hunger for the holy of the individual Israelite. It portrays the Tabernacle as more than the domain of the priests and the official cult. It is also the sacred space in which a grateful or troubled Israelite might seek God's blessing or forgiveness with a voluntary sacrifice, even as modest a sacrifice as a grain offering.
The Talmud suggests that the grain offering (minha) was instituted to give the poor access to the holy. Following the destruction of the Second Temple, the rabbis transposed the altar metaphorically into another sacred space, the Jewish home. The altar became the table at which the family gathered for meals.
Meal time is an opportunity to reach out to loved ones, to share ideas and experiences, to show understanding and compassion, to bring God into our lives. According to Rabbi Shimon: "Whenever three people dine at a table without any words of Torah, it is as if they had consumed the meat of the dead (a sacrifice to a false god)" (Pirkei Avot 3:4). A meal without discussion of Torah is only a physical activity.
A simple ritual makes the link even more concrete. After reciting the blessing over bread, we sprinkle a few grains of salt on the bread before eating it. The custom rests on the ancient practice of applying salt to every sacrifice offered in the Temple, as we read in our Torah portion: "You shall season your every offering of meal with salt; you shall not omit from your meal offering the salt of your covenant with God; with all your offerings you must offer salt" (Leviticus 2:13).
Professor Jacob Milgrom points out in his fascinating commentary on Leviticus (Anchor Bible, p. 191) that "salt was the preservative par excellence in antiquity."
Milgrom further notes that a figurative extension of salt's preservative properties is found in the reference by Jesus to his apostles as "the salt of the earth" (Matthew 5:13), "in other words, teachers who guard the world against moral decay. Moreover, its preservative qualities made it the ideal symbol of the perdurability of a covenant."
An altar must be set in sacred surroundings. If our home lives are dominated by mundane concerns, our meals will never be touched by the holy. The basic creed of Judaism, Shema Yisrael, mandates parents to be the primary religious teachers of their children by word and example.
The Shema also sets forth a program by which we can prepare ourselves. First, we must come to love God; our passion for God is the seedbed of our persuasiveness. Second, we must take God's words to heart intellectually. Through study and reflection, we will come to understand, then teach cogently, the protean texts, ideas and practices of Judaism. Finally, we must complement our preparation with performance. This is the force of the injunction to "Bind them as a sign on your hand ... inscribe them on the doorposts of your house" (Deuteronomy 6:8-9).
When our homes reverberate with Jewish art and music, Jewish deeds and ritual, Jewish books and videos, then our table will be an altar and our teachings, laden with warmth and wisdom, will stand a chance of transforming our children into lifelong Jews.
Rabbi Ismar Schorsch is chancellor of the Jewish Theological Seminary in New York. For other commentaries, visit www.jtsa.edu/pubs/schorsch on the Internet.
|
