SWEET
AND SOUR: PARSHT VAYIKRA
Shira
Smiles shiur –
March 2, 2014/Adar II 1, 5774
Summary
by Channie Koplowitz Stein
Parshat Vayikra includes some of the laws pertaining to the Meal
offering, the mincha.
The laws include two ingredients that must be excluded from the
offering,
leavening and honey, and one which must be included, salt. While Rambam
tells
us that all the laws pertaining to the sacrifices are chukim,
laws for
which we as humans cannot know the reasons behind them and which we
must obey
and observe simply because they are the will of Hashem, we can
nevertheless
study them to extract some truth for our lives through these laws.
Along these lines, Rabbi Reiss in Meirosh Tzurim offers a
beautiful
explanation. The offerings, as their smoke rises to the heavens, are
meant to
bring a pleasant aroma before Hashem, a reiach nichoach. The
most
pleasant “aroma’
we can offer is to
do as God commands without additions that we feel would enhance the
mitzvah,
whether we understand God’s
reasons or not. Therefore at Sinai we proclaimed naaseh –
we will do before
proclaiming nishma –
we will hear. Even today, without the Beit Hamikdosh, our Torah
observance must
also be first “we
will do”
even
without understanding the principles behind a particular command.
With that in mind, we can nevertheless explore some lessons for our
lives from
these laws. First, Rabbi Gamliel Horowitz in Tiv Hatorah
discusses the
essence of leavening and of honey. Leavening represents the attitude
that
things are not right and need to be improved, while honey implies that
everything is sweet and wonderful. These ingredients then can be
likened to
depression or feelings of unworthiness, and arrogance, I’m
great and don’t
need to improve. Neither of these
attitudes has a place on the altar, for one must create a balance of
the two
within himself so that he is neither paralyzed from moving forward by
feelings
of inadequacy, or unwilling to change due to arrogance. Either of these
mindsets can hold us back from working toward achieving our potential.
The seor, leavening which is the essence of chametz,
and honey
can be symbolic of the yetzer horo, the evil inclination,
writes Rabbi
Frand citing Rabbeinu Bachye. Focusing on chametz, there are
two
prohibitions on Pesach, not to see chametz, and not to have chametz
in one’s
possession. The prohibition against seeing chametz parallels
our actions
while the prohibition against owning chametz parallels our
thoughts, so
that neither our thoughts nor our actions should carry sin within them.
It is
precisely because of sin that we were commanded to bring offerings on
the
altar, so it follows that one should not mix our offerings with the
symbols of
the enticer and corrupter that brought us to sin.
How is leavening similar to the yetzer horo? Rabbi Frand cites
the
explanation of Rabbi Avigdor Nevenzahl, the Rabbi of the Old City of
Yerushalayim. How does leavening work? When adding leavening to dough,
through
a chemical process, bubbles start to form that make the dough rise
until it
fills the entire bowl. But in fact, there is nothing there except empty
bubbles, fluff. If you stick your finger into the dough, the bubbles
burst and
the dough falls flat. The yetzer horo is also no more than
fluff, a mere
illusion that seems more attractive in the anticipation than in the
reality.
Punch it down and deflate it before it grows and overpowers you.
Rabbi Moshe Chayim Dandrovitz in Imrei Chemed expounds on this
idea.
Yeast works when it is left alone. When we are motivated from Above to
do
something, the yetzer horo tells us to take it easy, to leave
well
enough alone, be complacent. If we respond by doing something, we
deflate the yetzer
horo. Similarly, honey also serves as a symbol of the yetzer
horo,
continues Rabbi Dandrovitz. Everything that falls into honey is
absorbed by it
and cannot retain its uniqueness. The yetzer horo wants us to
fall back
into our sweet, easy life and not work toward self improvement and
growth. In
short, as the Sefer Hachinuch points out, the moral lesson we
can gain
is not to become sluggish, for leavening is a slow process, and honey
symbolizes the sweet life of self indulgence.
The character flaw of laziness is especially insidious, points out
Rabbi Chaim
Friedlander, the Sifsei Chaim. With other flaws such as anger,
or
jealousy, one is aware of doing something wrong, but laziness is
something we
take in stride as part of the flow of life (not to be confused with
some
necessary down time to regroup). The kohanim in their service
in the
Temple were always moving and working. Similarly, on Pesach we are
serving
Hashem, and we must not allow idleness, symbolized by chametz,
leavened
products, to taint our service to Hakodosh Boruch Hu.
Rabbi Yaakov Hillel, in Ascending the Ladder, discusses the
works of
Rabbi Luzzato of Path of the Just. He points out how laziness
is
completely counterproductive to observing mitzvoth, for if doing a
mitzvah is
at an inconvenient time, the lazy one will dispense with the mitzvah.
Being an
observant Jew takes effort, and a desire to live the comfortable life
will keep
one from that effort, as sleep becomes more important than attending
morning
services and finishing one’s
meal at leisure steals the moment a chessed can be done for another. If
we
habituate ourselves to a life of leisure, we will be unable to rise to
the
occasion when the opportunity for a mitzvah presents itself.
It’s
not that
we must live an ascetic life, writes Rabbi Scheinerman, quoting Rabbi
Feinstein. We have opportunities to enjoy the pleasures of this world,
particularly on Shabbos and Yom Tov when we are even commanded to eat
festive
meals. But it is not even a matter of what is permissible, for just
because
something is “kosher”
doesn’t
mean we have to
indulge. Where is our pleasure in the spiritual, in learning a new
commentary?
Instead, we indulge in frivolous pleasures. The Saba of Kelm pointed
out to his
son that everyone has playthings. Children play with toys while adults
indulge
in their toys. The difference is that children know they are children
playing
while adults often do not realize they are playing at life.
But life does not have to be somber. We live in a physical world, and
physical
pleasure is available. We are permitted to enjoy life, writes Rabbi
Yaakov
Hillel, but we must strike a balance so that pleasure itself becomes a
way of
enhancing our spirituality. While we are commanded to enjoy life, we
must also
be aware that our purpose is not pleasure but to exert ourselves for a
cause.
Will that cause be pleasure or spiritual? If we allow ourselves to be
swallowed
up by comfort and pleasure, and focus on increasing the material
aspects of our
lives, we will never climb out and enjoy the spiritual pleasures of
life.
In Growth Through Torah Rabbi Zelig Pliskin, using the writings
of Rabbi
Gifter sums up our ideas cogently and beautifully. Both yeast and honey
are
external additives that change the flavor and texture of the initial
ingredients, and therefore they were not permitted on the altar. Salt,
on the
other hand, enhances the inherent flavor of the ingredients themselves.
Therefore salt was always a part of the sacrifices. What we are to
learn,
writes Rabbi Pliskin, is that we are not to be like the yeast and the
honey
that try to find growth outside ourselves, but rather to strive to be
like the
salt that uses our innate talents and characteristics to develop
ourselves to
reflect our unique spiritual potential.
It is not necessary to understand why Hashem commanded us with specific
laws to
be performed in specific manners. What is important is that even though
we
perform Hashem’s
mitzvoth because it is His will, and we cannot understand His reasons
for each
mitzvah, we still can grow and learn from the details of the mitzvoth
in the
gift of His Torah.