Pithom, Egypt 1314 BCE
Shimon stomped into the house kicking up dust, and wordlessly headed straight to the back of the house to change out of his work clothes. Rachel instinctively knew that he was coming from his brother’s house. Shimon was relatively laid back; the only person who could get under his skin was his younger brother Chetzron. Ever since Chetzron had been promoted to Head Slave in the household of Sais Imhoptep, a nephew of the Pharaoh, the two were constantly arguing.
Slavery was a funny thing, mused Rachel. Sure it was deplorable, but if it was all you knew, all your family had ever known for hundreds of years, you found yourself delighting in any small benefit that came your way. Chetzron was so proud of his new job. He was enamored by the gold plated chariot he got to drive, chauffeuring Sais to the palace and back. He swelled with pride as he delegated tasks to the other household slaves, and he made sure everyone saw his slave chain which had the large medallion of a Head Slave attached to it. Chetzron was right where he wanted to be.
Shimon, on the other hand was an avid follower of Moses, the polarizing prophet who kept talking to the Hebrew Elders about a miraculous redemption. Most people thought he was just spewing foolishness, but Shimon always came back with a fire in his eyes after watching Moses talking with the Elders. True, so far he had in failed his courageous and audacious attempts to get Pharaoh to give the Hebrews a furlough, but there was something about that great man that awakened a deeply buried desire in Shimon, a desire to get out, a desire to connect with something greater than a bigger medallion on his slave chain.
“I’m afraid he’ll never get it,” Shimon had emerged from the children’s room calmer, but still visibly troubled. “We’re all going to get out of here one day, but Chetzron will probably stay behind just to drive Sais around in a golden chariot!”
Seville, Spain 1491 CE
Joseph “Jose” Abensur stood on the porch of his manor and surveyed his sizeable hacienda. In the moonlight he could see the neat rows of olive trees just beginning to bloom, and his endless fields of tempranillo vines coming to life. Those vines were responsible for producing some of the finest wines in all of Spain. But his real pride and joy was to the right of the house. Even at night, he could see the Andalusian horses he bred milling about in their pasture just behind the orchards, their coats gleaming, radiating the strength and speed they were known for. He was a blessed man, and he knew it.
He sat down at an intricately carved ivory table to sip a glass of sherry, relishing the cool spring air and the peace of the outdoors. Just behind him the ballroom was lit up brightly, and his children and grandchildren were singing the last of the seder songs. He had spent the entire day rushing around tying up the loose ends in his many businesses before he took off for eight days to celebrate Passover with his family, and there was no greater reward for all his work than the beauty of this moment.
It was almost over, and now he could hear them singing “L’Shanah Haba BiYerushalayim, Next Year in Jerusalem!” A scowl crossed over his face, he had mixed feelings about that song. He was sure that Jerusalem would be a nice place to live, but he was pretty happy with where he was. Sure, all this talk of Torquemada and the Inquisition was rattling a few of the Jews, but there were too many Jews in positions of power for any of those radical Christians to really harm the Jews. The vast majority of Christians were peace loving and friendly people, they appreciated all that the Jews did for the economy and culture; there was no way that the radicals were going to be able to have any say in the policies of the Spanish empire.
No, Jose was fine with the Chad Gadya and Dayenu, but when it came to the L’shanah Haba song, he would rather sing “Next year in Seville!”
Leipzig, Germany 1931
At night, Anna dreamed about her hero, Marie Curie, the two-time Nobel laureate and world renowned physicist at the University of Paris. During the day, she had no time to dream. She spent her day surrounded with beakers, test tubes, and Bunsen burners. As a member of Professor Heichenstadt’s elite group of researchers at the University of Leipzig, she was searching for new radioactive elements, and not a moment was to be spared.
She usually spent thirteen or fourteen hours in the lab, often so engrossed in her work that she forgot to eat. She was fueled by a different form of energy, the pioneering spirit. The research team she was a part of were on the furthest edges of the frontier and pushing forward every day! Here she was a, Jewish student in the second oldest university in Germany, a school that had been open since 1409, but only began allowing Jewish students to matriculate in 1927. She was a female in the male dominated field of physics, and the only woman ever chosen by Professor Heichenstadt for his research team. And she was so close to that big breakthrough, so close to joining her hero Marie Curie in discovering of a new element. What was food when so much was at stake?
But as Anna approached her work station, she noticed something was out of place. It was not exactly as she left it the evening before! A beaker had been moved and her pen was gone. She scanned the room, and much to her consternation, she saw them both lying on a different table, where they definitely did not belong. Someone had taken her pen, written her a note and used the beaker to secure it to the worktable.
The minute she saw the handwriting she could feel the resentment rising. It was her father, that old relic who had never wanted her to be a scientist. And in his barely legible scrawl he wrote;
Dear Yehudis,
Tonight is the Seder. Please join us, we really miss you. Mameh is making your favorite borsht.
Love,
Tateh
Why did he insist on calling her Yehudis? How many times did she tell him that her name was Anna now? How dare he invade her privacy, sneaking into her lab, moving things around! Why couldn’t he get it? Her Judaism wasn’t at all like his! He saw himself as a Jew living in Germany, she saw herself as a German of the Mosaic Persuasion. He read the ancient books written by superstitious men, she read the enlightened works of Abraham Geiger. He would sit at the Seder talking of a future redemption, but she believed that, “Berlin is our Jerusalem, Germany is our Fatherland!” There was no way she would ever go to one more seder with that man, even if her mother made her favorite borsht.
Metro Detroit, USA 2026
After working seventy hours a week for six years at her law firm, Sarah just made partner!
Josh just got a brand new Corvette ZO6, and can’t wait to unleash every one of those 670 horsies all over some Michigan backcountry roads!
Adam owns acres of industrial real estate in Novi, and after a few really tough years is finally seeing the profits make their way into the books.
Rachel just got the call from her agent! Dreamworks SKG wants her for a supporting role in the upcoming Avergers:Reloaded!
Shirley has the perfect system. She spends the winters with her friends in West Palm Beach, and the summers with her family in Bloomfield Hills.
-------------------------------------------------
Every year we conclude our seder with “L’Shana Haba’ah Bi’Yerushalayim, Next Year in Jerusalem!” But for many it is hard for us to relate to those words. Maybe we feel like things are pretty good here, maybe we’re OK with being exactly where we are next year? Sure, we’d appreciate it if the Anti-Semitism would quiet down a bit, but no one thinks that Rashida Tlain, Ilhan Omar, Tucker Carlson or Candace Owens can have any real affect on the country, they are the fringe, not representative of the whole country.
But the truth is that the whole seder is a build up for this point, it’s a process of trying to help us understand what redemption means and how much we need the Final Redemption. “In every generation one should see himself as if he is going out of Egypt…” The word for Egypt, מצרים, also means constriction. In every generation we can only seek redemption if we’re able to see the constrictions around us. The loss of Jewish identity in our youth, the rising Anti-Semitism, the stream of wars in Israel, the challenges we have maintaining our family’s togetherness in the face of limitless options outside. Our own potential slipping away, getting further and further out of reach.
One of the most challenging effects of such a long exile is that we get so used to it that we can begin to satisfy ourselves with any small benefit— a bigger medallion on our necks, a nicer chariot, a better job. Passover calls on us to seek out the greatest redemption, the one which will break us out of all constrictions, bring eternal peace to mankind and fill the world with knowledge of G-d and G-dliness.
We conclude our seder with “Next Year in Jerusalem.” We remind ourselves that the great redemption we spoke of during the seder is not over yet. The closing line of the Haggadah is not “The End” but rather “To be continued…”
Next Year in Jerusalem!
Dvar Torah
This Shabbos (the one directly preceding Pesach) is called Shabbos Hagadol, the Big Shabbos. There are many different reasons for this title, including the fact that the Rabbi usually delivers a BIG pre-holiday sermon on this Shabbos.
However, the primary reason given is that back in Egypt it was on this day that all the Jews selected sheep for their Pesach offerings. When the Egyptians queried the Jews about this sudden strange behavior (on one day thousands of Jews selected sheep and tied them to the bedposts) the Jews explained that they were going to offer these sheep, which the Egyptians worshipped as gods, as sacrifices. This would be the equivalent of Jews preparing stacks of Korans for burning in the middle of Islamabad, yet miraculously no Jews were hurt. This BIG miracle is what gave Shabbos Hagadol its name. Let’s see if we can find some connection between Shabbos Hagadol and this week’s Parsha, Parshat Tzav.
This Parsha follows the previous Parsha in dealing with the Temple offerings. Let’s focus on one offering discussed in this Parsha, the Thanksgiving Offering. If a person survives a very dangerous experiences, such as severe illness or perilous travel, they are required to bring a special offering called a todah, an offering that is quite unique.
There are two general levels of holiness to offerings. The higher level called kodshei kodashim can only be eaten by Kohanim in the confines of the temple. The lower level, called Kodshim Kalim, can be eaten by almost any Jew in the whole city of Jerusalem. The higher level offerings are generally allowed to be eaten for just one day and one night while the lower level offerings may be eaten for two days and one night. The todah is an anomaly. It is from the lower level, which means that we should be allowed to eat it for two days and one night, but it can only be eaten for one day and night like the higher level offerings. Additionally, the person bringing the todah brings 40 loaves of bread (ten each of four different kinds of bread). Four are given to the Kohen, and the rest are returned to him to eat in that one day and night period. Why is the todah different from all the other sacrifices in its class (yep, I’m in that “why is this different from all the rest…” mode)?
The Sages tell us that the whole purpose of this offering is to give thanks to G-d for His salvation and to praise His name. Therefore, the more people partaking in this offering the better. How sad it would be for a person to celebrate his salvation by himself. Gratitude and joy are feelings that are intensified when they are shared. (This is why we invite so many people to join our simchas such as weddings and bar mitzvahs!) Therefore, the Torah tells you to bring a full animal and 40 loaves of bread, but only gives you a day and night to eat it. This ensures that you will invite others to partake of your thanksgiving meal, making it a big event with many guests, and the name of G-d is glorified even more!
From here, we can make a direct connection to Shabbos Hagadol. This is the day we celebrate the Jew’s first experience with the Pesach offering, and lo and behold, the two offerings share some very similar characteristics. The Pesach offering is also in the category of the lower level of offerings but it can only be eaten from nightfall of Pesach until midnight of the seder night (approx. 6 hours total, to eat an entire sheep! Oh, how I miss the days of yore!) Additionally there is a mitzvah to count together a group of family and friends to make the Pesach offering together. The Talmud in Tractate Pesachim estimates that there was no Pesach offering that had less than ten people partaking in it!
The Pesach offering is very similar to the Thanksgiving offering, on a conceptual level as well, because the Pesach offering is a way of expressing our thanks to G-d for the salvation we experienced as a nation! We were in a situation that was far more dangerous than a single person’s illness or travels; we were facing national identicide (that’s a term I made up, it means our entire nation almost lost its identity and would have been swallowed up by the greater Egyptian culture, as the identities of so many other nations have been lost over the years)!
Therefore, when we thank G-d for taking us out, we make sure to do it in a public fashion, at a seder with all of our family and as many guests as possible because, as we said above, gratitude and joy are feelings that intensify the more they are shared! So this year, when we sit at our seder, let’s take a moment to step back from the hustle and bustle to simply thank G-d for delivering us from the Egyptians, and giving us a unique national identity, one that is fused with the Torah, the guidebook that has led us through the Ages. (Maimonides actually includes this thanksgiving and praise of G-d as one of the things one must do to fulfill the obligations of the seder night!) May we merit seeing Mashiach right now, so that this year we can bring a real Pesach offering in a rebuilt Jerusalem!
Parsha Summary
Parshat Tzav continues with the listing of the Temple services/sacrifices begun in last week’s parsha. The first mitzvah mentioned is the removal of the ash from the Altar which was done daily before the offering of the first sacrifices of the day were sacrificed. The Torah mentions that the Kohen doing this job wears different vestments in order not to dirty his regular vestment, as Rashi explains “The clothing worn while cooking a dish for one’s master are not the same ones worn while serving him his cup of wine.” (This is one of the ideas behind why people have a custom to put on a jacket before entering the synagogue to pray. Our direct service of G-d should be something special for which we dress up. If you have to wear a jacket to get into your country club, you should certainly wear one while standing before G-d!)
The Torah then mentions the three pyres on the altar, one of which burned perpetually, 24/7, 365. When the Jews would travel in the desert a vessel was placed over it, but it kept on burning underneath the vessel, and when the Tabernacle was set up, they would take off the vessel and the fire was waiting for them. After this, the laws of the meal offerings are detailed, with an emphasis on a special meal offering brought by Kohanim on the inaugural day of their service and by the Kohen Gadol every day.
Then the Torah discusses some details of the sin offering and the guilt offering, with a short paragraph in the middle that teaches us the laws of Koshering (rendering usable) utensils that are not acceptable for some reason (e.g. a meat knife that was dipped in a boiling cheese fondue). Following this are the laws of some of the gifts given to the Kohen from the sacrifices, and the laws of the Thanksgiving offering (see above for more detail).
Next is a law called piggul which is interesting in that it refers to a sacrifice that is invalidated even though every action was performed properly, because the thoughts the Kohen had while bringing it were bad ones (this reinforces the idea that sacrifices are not just physical acts but mind-body experiences).
The Torah then prohibits the eating of sacrifices while one is contaminated, or eating sacrificial parts that have been contaminated even though one is pure. It also enumerates certain fats which we are forbidden to eat and the prohibition of drinking (or tasting in our food) the blood of an animal. After that, there is a description of the order in which parts of sacrifices are brought up on the Altar, and which portions among them are given to the Kohen.
Finally, the Torah describes the consecration of the Kohanim for service. For seven days, Moshe dressed them in their vestments and offered sacrifices before them. This helped prepare them for the eight day, when the inauguration of the Tebaernacle took place and they began their service in the temple. This is also a great lesson, as it indicates that service of G-d is not something we can expect to be able to just “jump right in to.” It connects the human and the divine, and requires preparation, sincerity, humility, and an earnest building process. That’s all folks!
Quote of the Week: The most exquisite pleasure is giving pleasure to others. – Jean de La Bruyere
Random Fact of the Week: Roughly 12% of all workers in the US have at some point worked for McDonalds.
Funny Line of the Week: An optimist is someone who falls off the Empire State Building, and after 50 floors says, “So far so good!”
Have a Spotless Shabbos,
R' Leiby Burnham