Kedoshim, the parsha before Emor, is reminiscent of Mishpatim, which comes shortly after the Israelites have left Egypt, in that it delivers a whole raft of instructions and laws, all aimed at the creation of a just society and of a holy people. One of the laws in Kedoshim is as follows:

When you reap your land’s harvest, do not completely harvest the ends of your fields. (Also) do not pick up individual stalks (that have fallen). (Furthermore) do not pick the incompletely formed grape clusters in your vineyards. (Also) do not pick up the individual (fallen) grapes in your vineyards. (All the above) must be left for the poor and the stranger.

Now, if it were not for this law, we would have no Magen Davids today. We might have someone else’s magen, but not David’s. My reason for this outrageous affirmation is this. When Ruth, the young Moabite widow, came to the land of Israel, her mother-in-law, Naomi, sent her out to follow the threshers working on the harvest of the noble Boaz. Now, Boaz, a righteous and kindly man, mindful of the law quoted above, told his workers to drop enough ears of corn for Ruth to gather her own plentiful harvest. This kindness convinced Naomi that it was safe to tell Ruth to sleep at the foot of Boaz’s bed. Boaz learned of Ruth’s goodness both from her mother-in-law and from observing her and he decided to marry her, provided she were not claimed by her brother-in-law, according to levirate custom. And the rest is history, for David was Ruth and Boaz’s great-grandson. 

Of course, this is not a watertight case. There are many contributory factors that combine to forge our destiny, just as there are many ingredients, skilful measurements, cuttings, stirrings and other culinary acts to make a good cholent. And David might have been made in some other way. However, it is clear that laws and customs that encourage justice and kindness will almost certainly sooner or later produce something good, like a great king, for example. 

But I have gone on too long about last week’s parsha. This week is Emor, full of priestly laws, festivals and one or two other things. There is  treat in store, for, starting at 10:30,  Adam Feldman will be leading the service and Sharim Atilano will be delivering the derasha. 

Your mother, stepmother, sister, half-sister, aunt, granddaughter, sister-in-law and daughter-in-law are not relatives you should marry or have sexual relations with according to the instructions given through Moses to the Israelites in the sedra of Acharei Mot. We can infer from this that the same would apply to one’s father, stepfather, brother, etc. Following similar logic, all these relatives should not marry or have sexual relations with you. Personally, I have never been tempted to marry my half-sister, for all the affection I feel for her and, while one day, I hope to have grandchildren I am confident I won’t want to marry any of them. Animals are also forbidden partners. I can safely say that the very idea fills me with horror.

None of the above is problematic and for the vast majority, if not all, of our people has never been so. One’s neighbour’s spouse is more tricky, and there may have been some slippage here, even while the offending parties have realised that what they are doing is not right. More difficult for Reform and similar (and perhaps for some Orthodox) Jews has been the prohibition against relations with the same sex. We accept people’s right to make choices based on their sexual identity. The important thing is to respect and honour one’s partner, whoever they may be. How do we reconcile our belief and practice with what it says in the Torah?

Acharei Mot also deals with the Yom Kippur service, the slaughtering of animals and the stamping out of idolatrous sacrificial practices. There is much to consider, and our service leader, Pat Lipert, will make her own wise and considered choice of what to focus on and how. Our Saturday service starts at 10:30. This Shabbat will also be the last day of Pesach, so no leaven for lunch please.

“Unclean! Unclean!” That’s what you would have had to shout out if you were struck by the leprous curse in the days of the Israelites. You would have also had to tear your clothes, grow your hair long and cover your face down to the lips. And then you would have had to leave your family and friends and go, alone, to live outside the camp. How terribly shaming and sad this must have been. The leprous curse was supposed to be the physical sign of a spiritual defect. However, the long description of how it was to be identified, the treatment and purification of the sufferer and their eventual rehabilitation under the jurisdiction of the priest, as described in Tazria and Metzora, is preceded by the law concerning the period of ritual uncleanness experienced by the mother who has just given birth. It is followed by the leprous curse affecting houses and clothes and the uncleanness of menstruation and male discharges. Surely, birth is no sign of sin, houses and clothes cannot be spiritually responsible and female and male discharges are merely natural processes. 

How are we to understand all this? The marking out of what is ritually clean and unclean is part of the architecture of the physical and spiritual worlds. There is the divine and the human, the holy and the profane, the ordinary and the extraordinary, sacred space and sacred time, a space where God draws us close and a space where we strive to draw Him close. There is humanity and Israel, heaven and earth, darkness and light. It is our job to negotiate our way within or through or round these many rooms. 

Well, that is just an idea, but for more ideas, prayer, song and conversation, join us this Saturday at 10:30, when Sharim Atilano will lead us along. 

Instructions for the many sacrifices mandated by God continue apace in Tzav. It cannot have been easy to remember and follow all the stages of each of these sacrifices to the letter. At the end of Tzav, we come to the installation of the Priests. Everything is going well until, suddenly, a terrible tragedy occurs. Aaron’s two eldest sons, Nadav and Avihu, make an offering they have not been commanded. Fire springs forth and consumes them. The sages have offered several explanations for this, including the brothers’ failure to understand the nature of holiness, and their being ruled by their own egos rather than by God’s word. Whatever the reason, or reasons, the punishment is terrible and it is understandable that Aaaron and his surviving sons are so shocked that, later in the day, they fails to follow the commandment to eat the sin offering. What is also shocking is how Nadav and Avihu’s punishment is so suddenly meted out and just as suddenly left behind. It goes like this. After the installation of the Priests, Aaron blesses the people and God’s glory is revealed to them. The people respond. Then, without introduction we are told that the two brothers take their fire pans and place fire and incense on them. They are consumed by fire. Moses gives a brief explanation of their death to Aaron and gives instructions for the bodies to be removed. Without more ado, he tells Aaron, Eleazar and Ithamar not to go without a haircut or to tear their clothes. As listeners or readers we cannot but be aghast, however much we accept what has happened. 

There is lots more in Sh’mini, including detailed dietary laws. Being Shabbat Parah, however, many congregations will read the episode of the Red Heifer, taken from B’minbar, a challenging sacrifice to understand. 

To understand more, come along this Saturday at 10:30 when Harvey Kurzfield will lead us.