By Emily Rogal

But, what could this mean in a modern day context? To me, I think that this passage opens up the ways in which we can encounter sacredness. What I’m saying is that I believe that the most religiously observant Jew, to someone who self identifies as “culturally Jew-ish,” have equal access to the sacred, to encountering something above themselves. I am certainly not saying that we should throw out the book of Leviticus (though truthfully, I could do without some parts). What I mean to say is that we encounter altars constantly in our lives as Jews. We create altars through sacred communities that we encounter and build within our own machanot, within our kvutzot, within our small, shared interactions with each other.

Another commentary that I read on this parsha was about the language of “sacrifice” - a word that is pretty terrifying if you ask me. Instead, what if we think of this as karbon, offering. I think that this is what I want to focus on the most. What parts of ourselves can we offer to the world? This morning, NPR released a bit about a father responding to some hard questions that his 9-year-old son asks him. In it, the father says, "My dream is for you to live out your dreams. There's an old proverb that talks about when children are born, children come out with their fists closed because that's where they keep all their gifts. And as you grow, your hands learn to unfold, because you're learning to release your gifts to the world. And so, for the rest of your life, I wanna see you live with your hands unfolded."

So, let’s get rid of this idea of being “good Jews.” My challenge to you is to think of what ways you encounter the sacred in your own life. What do you see as things in your life that are tinged with the divine? What would it mean in our own communities to reimagine the altar as a space in which we and our chanichim can encounter sacredness? What would it mean to create a new theology of holiness within our own context? I want to challenge us to see Judaism and our own

Jewish identities not as not being enough of a Jew or a good Jew, but simply a Jew who lives with your hands unfolded - to create space for others to encounter sacredness, to recognize holiness in the simple, everyday acts, to infuse the work that you do with kavannah, or intention. Let’s create our own altar, and offer love with open, unfolded hands.

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