Parashat Vayikra 5768

This Shabbat, we begin reading from a new book of Torah, Leviticus or Vayikra. While I tend to meet these chapters with excitement, I know others have a different reaction. Yes, I believe Leviticus is the most "looked down upon" book in our Five Books of Torah. Leviticus focuses almost solely on law: laws of sacrifice, laws of ritual purity and impurity, and laws of holiness (the exceptions to this rule are two short passages of narrative). Because of its focus on these squirmy details, Leviticus is commonly described as foreign, irrelevant, and legalistic. And yet, many of us who know and love her feel that she is simply misunderstood!

This week's Torah portion Vayikra focuses on laws concerning different sacrifices. Let's just be clear here: Rules regarding animal sacrifice do not exactly fit into our modern understanding of the universe. And, I will be honest: As a vegetarian, my initial encounters with this book were quite tense. With time, though, I have come to see the potential hurdles between Leviticus and me as welcome invitations to reconsider the true meaning of the text (if it's only blood and guts, we are all in trouble!).

Let me share with you one example of this deeper searching: A central root word found in this week's Torah portion, this week's parasha, is k-r-v (koof-reish-vav). The root "k-r-v" is usually translated as "to sacrifice." As my grandmother used to say, "this is a shanda!" This inexact translation obscures the true meaning of the word, which is "to bring near." While on the surface this chapter may seem to be about a holy barbeque, a closer reading suggests that all these laws and sacrifices are really about drawing near.

The obvious question is, "Drawing near to whom?"

One answer is drawing near to God (i.e. humans "make sacrifices" to God and therefore "draw near" to God). But, this is only part of the story. In addition to the parts of the offerings that are burned on the altar for God, there are other parts that are often shared by the priests and the people (most notably, in the wellbeing offering). In this sense, then, the offering of animals, grains, and incense on the altar can be read as metaphors for our own attempts to share together with God and with our community.

Biblical scholar and anthropologist Mary Douglas offers another layer to our exploration. She asserts that, according to the book of Leviticus, the only time meat could be eaten was during a sacrifice (that is to say that, according to Leviticus, the rest of the Israelites' diet was vegetarian). She also suggests that all of Leviticus' sacrifices were to be made completely in silence. From Douglas, we learn that the sacrifices were attempts to elevate seemingly mundane parts of our lives to a level of intense holiness, intention, and community.

If you can get beyond the "ick" factor of livers protuberances, suet, and entrails, and open yourself to the deeper meanings of this oft-misunderstood book, you can connect with an important lesson: Potential moments of holiness are often masked and sometimes difficult to realize. But, if we are willing to search deeper and stretch ourselves a bit, we may find that the sacred was around us and in us all along, simply waiting to be unearthed and named.