Crossing the Bridge
We see now, paradoxically, more selfishness and more selflessness. We are crossing the bridge into the Messianic Age that links Galus to Geulah. We therefore witness elements of both. Our challenge is to look forward.
Restrictions on Giving?
The Book of Leviticus is replete with the laws concerning the offering of sacrifices. There are special times for them. They can only be brought in special places by special people. Even the type of animal that is offered must conform to specific rules. This week’s parsha presents us with a sampling of some of the restrictions regarding animal sacrifices, such as:
When an ox or a sheep, or a goat, is born, it shall be for seven days under its mother and from the eighth day on it is acceptable as a fire offering to G-d. And whether it be an ox or sheep, you shall not slaughter it and its offspring on the same day. And when you offer a thanksgiving-offering… On the same day it shall be eaten; you shall not let any of it remain until morning; I am G-d.”
The question may be asked, why all these rules and regulations? Imagine. A kindhearted, altruistic philanthropist comes to a worthy charitable organization and offers to give them a handsome donation, motivated by the goodness of his or her heart. What would he or she think if the director of that charity would respond to this voluntary act of philanthropy: “Sorry, we can only accept donations on Tuesday evenings. And besides that, we don’t accept cash. And if you want to give us a large donation, you’ll have to break it up into several installments, et al.
It is therefore puzzling that the Torah would put any restrictions on a voluntary offering that is expressive of one’s feelings of devotion for G- d.
The question becomes even more pronounced when we consider a salient difference between a sacrifice in the Temple and a charitable contribution. When one donates to a needy and worthy individual or organization, the most important thing is to determine what is best for the recipient, not best for the donor. By contrast, an offering made to G-d has obviously nothing to do with G-d’s needs, but with our sense of devotion to Him; that we are willing to part with our precious resources and offer them to G-d. It would have made more sense to place restrictions on charitable donations that cater to the needs of the recipient(s). There seems to be no apparent reason for imposing so many restrictions on the dedicated servant of G-d who wishes to demonstrate his or her faith in and devotion for Him.
Why so Many Rules in Judaism?
In truth, the question is not just about sacrifices, but about all of Judaism. Why are there so many rules as to how we perform a Mitzvah?
Why, for example, does it make a difference if I put the Mezuzah on the right doorpost or on the left doorpost? Doesn’t it suffice that I am spending the money, taking the time, expending the effort to do G-d’s will and placing a Mezuzah on my doorpost?
What difference does it make if I pray facing the west or whether I face the east? Isn’t the thought that counts?
Definition of Devotion
One answer lies at the heart of the definition of devotion to another, whether the other is G-d or another individual.
A human being is both a selfish and selfless being. There is hardly a person who is altruistic as to never consider his or her own interest. Conversely, there is rarely a person whose ego is so inflated that they are always and totally selfish.
Every human being, by virtue of being a Creation of G-d, possesses the paradoxical nature of self-consciousness and self-effacing surrender to another. Differences between people in this regard are primarily in terms of balance and ratio. In one individual the selfish interest dominates, whereas another will be governed primarily by their selfless character.
And what is true for diverse individuals is also true with regard to each and every person. Each one of us will undergo fluctuations in the way we perceive ourselves and the way we perceive others. On certain occasions, we look out for ourselves exclusively, and on other occasions we seem to be focused on the needs of others.
Moreover, each and every action that we undertake is an expression of both selfhood and “other”-hood. Whenever we do a Mitzvah, even for the most idealistic reasons, there will invariably be a sense of satisfaction that we have done something good.
And, while, generally speaking, there is nothing wrong with having a sense of fulfillment and joy at having done a good thing, there are times and places for that. Before we do the Mitzvah, we may be motivated to do good for an ulterior motive. Likewise, after we complete the fulfillment of the Mitzvah, it would be innocuous to feel a sense of gratification for having done the right thing. But while the Mitzvah/offering is being made, it is crucial that our focus is strictly on G-d for whom the Mitzvah is being performed and to whom the offering is being made.
After all, that is the definition of an offering: I am giving of myself to the other; with the emphasis on the other.
A Mitzvah: It’s not about Us it’s about G-d.
Left to our devices, most of us would gravitate towards doing things in a selfish manner. To dispel, or at least to minimize, the inevitable sense of ego that would accompany the average person’s offering and to ensure that we do not lose sight of what and why we are bringing this offering, the Torah gave us specific restrictions as to how we do it. These restrictions served as constant reminders that the offering was for and about G-d.
If there are times in our life when we are more selfless and times that we are more selfish, the same can be said about the state of the world. In times of spiritual awakening, when G-d’s presence was clearly felt in this world, such as when the Bais Hamikdash-the Holy Temple stood, we were more G-d conscious and selfless. By contrast, in times of exile, there is an obvious screening of G-d’s presence, which translates in a greater emphasis on ourselves and less on G-d and less on the needs of others.
On the Bridge
As we approach the end of the exile period, however, and are on the bridge that links the present exile period with the future Messianic Age, we are witness to a paradoxical phenomenon:
On the one hand, we see unprecedented selfishness and total disregard for the well-being of others in some circles and individuals. We can also find unprecedented outpourings of selflessness in other areas and people.
Our task today is to “tap” into the Messianic energies of the future, by being more sensitive to the nuances of each of the Mitzvos that cultivate the G-d-awareness aspect of our nature. In that way, we can cross over the bridge from the land of selfishness to the world of selflessness.
From the book Light from the Future: Parshas Emor by Rabbi Heschel Greenberg, published by the Jewish Discovery Center.
