Temple Torat Yisrael

After taking something of a narrative hiatus in the book of Vayikra/Leviticus (which serves as a handbook for kohanim as the rules and roles of the sacrificial system are put into place and issues of ritual purity and impurity are defined) we are picking up where we left off at the end of the book of Sh'mot/Exodus.  In other words, we are "bamidbar" . . . we are in the wilderness.  Specifically, still camped at the foot of Har Sinai.

Here we see Moshe as camp bus counselor (count the kids as they get on the bus at camp, count the kids when they got off the bus at the amusement park, count the kids when they get back on the bus back to camp . . . ): God turns to Moshe and instructs him to conduct a census, a head count.  "We're breaking camp, packing up, and continuing the journey through the wilderness, Moshe, so make sure you know how many people you've got before you leave."  

Then God delivers instructions further instructions for Aaron and his sons, the tribe of Levi:  "At the breaking of the camp, Aaron and his sons shall go in and take down the screening curtain and cover the Ark of the Covenant with it.  They shall lay a covering of dolphin skin over it and spread a cloth of pure blue on top; and they shall put its poles in place. . . .Then they shall take a blue cloth and cover the lampstand for lighting ...they shall put it and all its furnishings into a covering of dolphin skin, which they shall then place on a carrying frame . . . Next they shall spread a blue cloth over the altar of gold . . . "  (Bamidbar/Numbers, Chapter 4)

The act of packing up is also of significance . . . all the accessories that had been so lovingly crafted in order to initiate the sacrificial system connecting God and Israel are now to be packed up as well, and very specific instructions are given to the tribe of Levi concerning how that packing was to be done.

Just a few weeks ago, we at Torat Yisrael packed up the sacred accessories that had enhanced our worship in Cranston for 60 years:  our sacred scrolls, the white high holy day mantles, the eternal lights and the different sorts of prayer books and bibles we read, the Torah crowns and shields and pointers, the memorial plaques and dedication plaques, the ark curtains and doors and the building full of mezuzot as well . . . .  It was a jarring sight to watch these iconic items taken down, wrapped up, packed into trucks and transported to storage.  I had a strong sense that the kedushah, the sanctity, of each piece was being wrapped up along with the item itself.  These objects cannot be reduced to mere "things."  They are infused with the sanctity of their roles as they cover the scrolls, point to sacred words, adorn the Torah, reflect God's light in our places of prayer. 

Just as the tribe of Levy mindfully wrapped up those items preparing to leave Sinai, we have mindfully wrapped and stored our items in anticipation of the day when our new synagogue building will be dedicated.  Then our Torah scrolls, our Torah pointers and crowns and shields and mantles will be unwrapped and brought into their new home.  Then their kedushah will be released from its wrappings and will be free to infuse our new sacred space with the holiness of our Torah and our kehillah k'doshah, our sacred community.

Parashat Yitro                      Torah Reading:  Exodus  18:1-20:23

During this week's Torah reading, an extraordinary thing is going to happen.  We are going to stand as a community to receive Torah again as our Torah reader, Harold Labush, reads for us the biblical account of the revelation at Mount Sinai.

Why are we going to stand? 
Standing is, of course, one accessible way of demonstrating the importance of the text.  Although all of the Torah is precious to us, and there is an infinite amount we can learn from Torah, the moment of revelation at Sinai is unique.  This revelation is the Torah's first collective revelation (up to this moment, God has communicated with individuals up to now (Abraham, Isaac, Rebekkah, Moses . . .).  Now, at Sinai, the entire people Israel are gathered together and experience this moment of revelation as a collective.  Indeed, the homiletic rabbinic genre of Midrash teaches us that every Jewish soul of every generation . . . each of us . . . was present at Sinai, not just the generation alive at that time.

Standing is also an active rather than a passive position.  For most of the year, we sit comfortably in our seats while Harold reads the words of the Torah to us.  We follow along in the Hebrew, we read the accompanying English, we browse the commentaries or day dream.  But when we arrive at this unique moment of divine communication we do not sit back and contemplate the text from a distance, we enter into the moment by standing as a community, a covenanted community.

Many of you may have already heard my favorite Peanuts cartoon:
Charlie Brown, Sally and Snoopy are sitting on a big sofa.
Charlie has a huge book on his lap and he is reading to Sally.  He is reading the Genesis story of the destruction of Sodom and Gemorrah and how Lot and his wife are escaping the city.  Against God's instructions, Lot's wife turns back and looks at the destruction behind her and she is turned into a pillar of salt.

Sally is listening to this story wide-eyed and completely absorbed in the plot.  She is soaking in every word.

Snoopy, at the far end of the sofa, looks back at Charlie and says: "But, what happened to their dog!"

Each of these three is a role model:
Charlie is the role model of teacher of Torah (close to my heart, of course).  He is passing on the tradition.
Sally is the role model of student.  Engaged totally in the tradition being transmitted to her.
But Snoopy is my hero.  Because Snoopy doesn't just read the story, or listen to the story, he inserts himself into the story.

That is what we do when we stand for tomorrow morning's account of the revelation at Sinai . . . we emulate Snoopy and see ourselves reflected in the words of Torah.