The Jewish Way of Telling Time While the secular date changes at midnight, in Judaism the new date begins at sunset. Therefore, for example, Shabbat begins on Friday evening. The biblical source for considering the evening to be the beginning of the new day, is right at the beginning of Genesis, on the very first day of creation, when the Torah says “and there was evening, and there was morning, one day”, implying that the evening precedes the morning. This pattern, “first darkness and then light”, mirrors creation itself. The world in its natural state, is in a state of spiritual darkness; the natural tendency is for each creature to seek self-preservation above all, and the fittest are the ones who will survive. G-d places the human being into a world of spiritual darkness in order for the human being to create spiritual light and refinement; to introduce morality, ethics, goodness and kindness. The way we count a new day reminds man of his purpose, to help the world transition from darkness to light. There is, however, a notable exception to the way we think about time. The Talmud states that “regarding the holy {temple offerings}, the night follows the day”. As described in this week’s portion, the portion of Tzav, the portions of the offerings that were burned on the altar could be burned the night following the day. The pattern of “night following the day” offers a profound lesson for our relationship with “holiness”, our spiritual life. When we are engaged in connection to G-d, we are in a state of spiritual light and “day”. But the danger of being in the “holy” space is that one can become complacent and satisfied with their spiritual circumstance. The Torah reminds us that the “night”, the darkness which represents the distance, the yearning and the longing follows the “day”. Because the closer we come to holiness, the more we yearn and long to draw nearer. The closer we come the more we sense the infinity of G-d, and how we can always continue to rise higher and higher in our spiritual journey. Adapted from Ohr Hatorah, Tzav page 13
Blog - Torah Insights
The Jewish Way of Telling Time - צו
The Shift to Man - ויקרא
The Shift to Man
Adam - Man.
This is the first word of the first commandment in the book of Leviticus, the third book of the Torah, and it represents a dramatic shift of focus.
The second book of the Torah, the book of Exodus, focuses on Divine revelation. G-d descending to Egypt to liberate his people; the revelation at Sinai, and the commandment to build the tabernacle, a place where “I {G-d} will dwell amongst them”.
Indeed, the final verses of Exodus highlight how G-d’s presence was manifest in the tabernacle:
And the cloud covered the Tent of Meeting, and the glory of the Lord filled the Mishkan…
For the cloud of the Lord was upon the Mishkan by day, and there was fire within it at night, before the eyes of the entire house of Israel in all their journeys. (Exodus 40:34-38)
And then, in the third book, the focus shifts.
When a man from {among} you brings an offering to the Lord; from animals, from cattle or from the flock you shall bring your offering. (Leviticus 1:2)
In the third book, the focus is not about G-d coming close to man, but rather the focus shifts to the actions a human being takes to bring himself closer to G-d.
Indeed, as the Chasidic masters explain, the Torah understands the limitation of the "awakening from above”, when G-d initiates the relationship, which does not create a lasting impact unless it is followed by an "awakening from below”, the effort and investment of man to get close to G-d.
We each experience moments of “revelation”, an extraordinary experience, or sudden inspiration. It can be a holiday, a beautiful spring day, or an anniversary. We are inspired to be more focused on our values and more connected to the people we love. Yet, the inspiration will pass. In order for the inspiration to endure, we need to realize that it depends on us. On the word in the beginning of Leviticus. On “man”. The inspiration will only continue if we invest our own self, our own contribution.
The book of Leviticus reminds us of the limits of inspiration and the power of small daily actions. The limits of an extraordinary event, and the power of daily habit.
The Final Word of Exodus - ויקהל פקןדי
The Final Word of Exodus We have come a long way. The book of Exodus began with the story of the enslavement of the Jewish people in Egypt, continued with the burning bush, ten plagues, exodus, Sinai, and the final third of the book, the story of the construction of the Mishkan, the temple in the desert. We have come a long way, and we finally expect to read about rest. Yet, the final verses of the book describe not resting but rather journeying: When the cloud rose up from over the Mishkan, the children of Israel set out in all their journeys. But if the cloud did not rise up, they did not set out until the day that it rose. For the cloud of the Lord was upon the Mishkan by day, and there was fire within it at night, before the eyes of the entire house of Israel in all their journeys. (Exodus 40:36-38) In fact, the very last word of the book is “journeys”. The theme of the book of Exodus is redemption. In the very last word of the Book, the Torah explains that the essence of redemption is in fact the drive to journey forward. Redemption is the rejection of Mitzrayim, Hebrew for Egypt, which is etymologically related to the words straights, limitation, and boundary. To be free is to cultivate the desire to keep moving forward, to keep uncovering additional layers of Divine potential within each of our souls. Rashi points out that the Torah refers to the places that the Jewish people camped as “journeys”, since the encampments were all part of the greater journey: Before the eyes of the entire house of Israel in all their journeys. On every journey (מַסָּע) that they were traveling, the cloud would rest in that place where they encamped. The place of their encampment is also called a journey... Since from the place of their encampment they resumed their journeys, they are all called “journeys”. This teaches us a profound lesson. The book of Exodus is no stranger to setback, pain, and suffering. Yet, the word “journeys” reminds us that when we choose to view reality from a state of inner freedom, the "encampment" - the obstacle and challenge - itself is part of the journey of growth. Because “from the place of their encampment they resumed their journeys”, the obstacle itself generates motivation and commitment. The encampment actually intensified the journey to freedom and liberation. Adapted from the teachings of the Rebbe, Likutei Sichos 6, Pekudei 2
The True You - כי תשא
The True You It is one of the most dramatic scenes in the Torah. Moses descended from Mount Sinai holding the tablets of the testimony. Seeing the Jewish people dancing around the golden calf, he shatters the tablets. This portion, however, is not merely about the tragic sin; rather, it is about repentance, repairing the relationship with G-d, and the introduction of the second tablets. This is a story of how the relationship between G-d and the Jewish people is not dependent on specific behavior and how it survives and is even strengthened by the pain of betrayal. and hurt. In this portion, we read about the “thirteen attributes of mercy”, the formula that G-d taught us to evoke whenever we need to elicit Divine forgiveness. The thirteen attributes are incorporated in our prayers throughout the year and recited multiple times on Yom Kippur, the day of atonement. As the Torah states: And the Lord passed before him and proclaimed: Lord, Lord, benevolent God, Who is compassionate and gracious, slow to anger and abundant in loving kindness and truth, preserving loving kindness for thousands, forgiving iniquity and rebellion and sin; and cleanses. (Exodus 34:6-7) Perhaps the most intriguing of the list of attributes evoked here is the attribute of truth. After all, truth seems the opposite of forgiveness. The attribute of truth is usually associated with justice, when each person receives what they deserve. Forgiveness seems to be the “bending” of rules, “ignoring” shortcomings and introducing second chances, seemingly inconsistent with the attribute of truth, associated with discipline and consistency. Yet, the attribute of truth does not contradict forgiveness; it is precisely what makes forgiveness possible. G-d taught Moses, and we evoke this truth when we recite the thirteen attributes, that the sin, the shortcoming, the weakness, does not define the real person. The negativity that produced the sin is merely an external layer of the human consciousness. G-d proclaims that His Divine attribute of truth senses the deeper truth, that the core of the human being is positive and holy. That beneath the layers of conflicting inclinations is the true essence of the person, a spark of G-d Himself. The thirteen attributes invite us to discover the deeper layer within ourselves. It is an invitation to uncover the truth of our soul, in ourselves and in the people around us. Inspired by Rabbi Shlomo Yaffe, “True Mercy” Chabad.org