Emor 2013 – The
fine line between sanctity and desecration, blessing and curse
Rabbi Rachel
Goldenberg
“livracha
v’lo liklalah, l’sova, v’lo l’razon, l’chayyim v’lo l’mavet…
for blessing,
and not for curse; for sustenance, and not for destruction;
for life, and
not for death.”
My
family and I were in Boston to see the Marathon two weeks ago. We were in
Newton, with my cousins, many miles from the finish line, and we only went for
a couple of hours in the late morning. We brought a picnic and sat in the sun
on the green grass, and it was beautiful. I found myself moved by the grace and
the strength of the bodies of these runners. What an amazing thing to be right
there, watching the best male and female marathon runners in the world glide by
as if 26 miles was nothing to them. And then to see the packs of more “normal”
people, but serious runners nonetheless, displaying enormous endurance,
resilience and strength.
And
then there were the costumes! Apparently runners who are raising money for
charity will sometimes garner support by pledging to wear something outrageous
if they raise a certain amount of money. So there were men and women (but
mostly men) running in tutus, swan outfits, fairy wings, and superhero capes.
We even spotted a hot dog costume! It was such a joyous celebration of life and
vitality, of the capacity and the beauty of the human body.
We
went back to my cousin’s house, energized and inspired what we had
witnessed. And then, several hours
later, came the news of the bombings at the finish line. In that moment we saw
so clearly how the human experience is one of standing on that terribly thin
line between celebrating life and experiencing death and destruction.
Our
Torah portion this week stands on that same that same line.
This
week we read instructions regarding the sacred offerings the people bring to
God through the priests at the Tabernacle. The people are instructed to be
extra careful when they bring an offering to sacrifice to God that they may not
make an offering of an animal that has a blemish, is flawed or has been maimed.
To do so would be an act of desecration
– not of holiness.
Upon
first hearing this law, we might find it problematic in its suggestion that God
only accepts perfection. But that isn’t my sermon tonight.
This
week I read this text differently. The message this week, I think, is to
recognize that there is such a thing as a flawed and unacceptable offering to
God. In those terrible bombings at the marathon, we saw how an offering or an
action can be easily twisted from serving God and serving life to serving the
opposite – serving death. These two young men, and unfortunately, many religious
extremists across the globe, have been led to believe that killing innocent
people and terrorizing entire communities and nations is a holy act – an
offering to God.
What
then, as a religious leader, can I say about what it means to be a person who
participates in religious acts, a person who strives to live a spiritual or a
religious life? To be a religious person is to participate in the sacred – it
means striving to align our actions with what we believe serves God and serves
a greater purpose. And it also means that we walk a thin line. Our Torah
portion highlights how easily service to God can be distorted into service of
something that is not holy.
The
Torah instructs the priests to be scrupulous in making sure that everything
offered on the altar is without blemish or defect – that it is offered with the
correct intention - to serve God and life.
Then,
later in the Torah portion, we read a story about a fight between two men in
which one man commits blasphemy by pronouncing God’s ineffable name out loud as
a curse. The blasphemer is ultimately stoned to death as punishment. God has revealed
God’s very self to the people of Israel by making known God’s very intimate,
personal name, YHVH. But there are boundaries around how we may use this name.
If the name is not used intentionally, as a way to draw close to God and serve
God, then the name loses its sanctity and God is diminished and distorted.
As
I studied the parasha this week I was surprised by this notion - that God needs
US to be careful about how we use God’s name and how we approach God. In a
sense, just as God has made us fragile beings who walk a thin line between life
and death, so too, God has made God’s self vulnerable by giving us ways to come
close, and by revealing God’s name. Because a spiritual connection to something
beyond us is available to us, that connection is inherently exposed to
distortion and misuse, sometimes with tragic results.
“livracha
v’lo liklalah, l’sova, v’lo l’razon, l’chayyim v’lo l’mavet…
for blessing,
and not for curse
As
people on a journey towards a spiritual life, this parasha calls us to ask
ourselves - Have I dedicated myself and
my actions to something beyond myself? Are my offerings to the world and to others
offerings of life and of beauty – offerings with a greater purpose?
Of
course, we know, and we have seen so clearly these past couple of weeks, that
even if we do dedicate ourselves to life and to beauty and purpose, we are
still vulnerable to destruction. Therefore, we are so much the more so required
to celebrate the life we’ve got. In fact, in our Torah portion alongside all of
this worry about the sacrifices, and the stoning to death of a blasphemer, we
also have the commandments to celebrate the festivals of Sukkot, Pesach and
Shavuot – these holidays which are meant to be seasons of outpouring of joy. And
so, given this fine line we walk, we celebrate and give thanks as much as we
possibly can, as we walk.
Two
days later after the bombings at the Boston marathon, we learned of the
explosion in the fertilizer plant in the town of West, Texas.
It’s
not like I’ve spent a lot of time there. But any Reform rabbi who has worked in
Dallas, Texas knows the town of West, because it is the only decent rest stop
between Dallas and Greene Family Camp, the Reform Movement summer camp in
Bruceville, TX. When I lived in Dallas, I stopped in West several times a year,
on my way to and from camp or a retreat. We would stop at the Czech Stop to get
warm kolaches – these delicious Czech pastries filled with jelly and sweet
cheese.
Boston.
. . West, TX . . . Two very different tragedies. One perpetrated by people
whose intent was to kill. The other, a terrible accident, the cause of which
remains to be seen. But both,
experiences of terrible pain and loss and grief – both, reminders to give
thanks and celebrate life in the moment, because that is all we’ve got.
That
day of the plant explosion, my Texas colleagues and I traded warm kolache
memories on facebook, trying to hold on to the good stuff. And when I think
back on that day in Boston, I try to hold on to the memories of joy, strength,
endurance, the grace of those amazing runners, the tutus.
“livracha
v’lo liklalah, l’sova, v’lo l’razon, l’chayyim v’lo l’mavet…
We
pray these words every year as we make the transition from the winter rainy
season to the summer dry season in the Land of Israel. We recognize that our
very existence is dependent on that which is out of our control – how much or
how little rain falls during the year to sustain us. And so we pray, given the
fragility of life, that our efforts, our work, our time on earth should be for blessing and not
for curse; for sustenance, and not for destruction; for life, and not for
death.
