This week, the Jewish holiday of Sukkot changes the traditional reading. Instead of the final portion of the Torah, Ve'Zot Ha'Brachah -- which we read a couple days later, on the holiday of Simchat Torah, before starting over with Genesis -- we read a special portion from Exodus for the Jewish holiday of Sukkot.
The portion revisits the reconciliation between God and the Jewish people, when Moses begs Him to forgive them for the sin of the Golden Calf.
As with many reconciliations, the end result is that the two sides are even closer than they were before. In addition to revealing his presence to Moses, God gives the Jewish people the three yearly pilgrimage festivals, including Sukkot.
I was reflecting this morning on how special this holiday is, as I performed my morning prayers outside, in my family's sukkah (temporary dwelling). On this holiday alone, we not only have special rituals; we create our own sacred space.
That's unique, in terms of Jewish practice. Normally one does not pray alone; it is preferable to pray with a quorum, or minyan, of ten men in a synagogue. In Biblical times, people were discouraged from having personal altars at home.
And yet, on Sukkot, while we still are supposed to pray with the community, we are also commanded to create our own little sacred space. It is temporary, and fragile, but it is also very real -- bringing holiness into our home, and vice versa.
This week'd portion begins the book of Numbers. Interestingly, the Hebrew name for the book is "In the Desert," not "Numbers." The portion, which happens to be my bar mitzvah portion, focuses almost as much on the names of the princes of each tribe as the number of soldiers it fielded. It also focuses on the configuration of the tribal camps around the central Tabernacle and the Levites.
So why "Numbers" instead of "Names" or "Places"? The numbers are, to be sure, a unique feature of the opening of this Biblical book -- but they are not the focus of the rest of the narrative. The Hebrew focuses on the place where the events in the book take place, because essentially this is the narrative of the Israelites' wanderings from Egypt to Israel, across 40 years. We move from the giving of the Torah and the construction of the Tabernacle in Exodus and Leviticus, to the final valediction of Moses in Deuteronomy -- Bamidbar is the story of wandering that happened in between.
The question of ...
This week's portion begins with the laws of the Sabbath and the Sabbatical year, and the Jubilee year that restores all land to its original (tribal) owners. It also explores laws of property and labor that will apply in the Land of Israel, and the laws of vows and inheritance.
The Israelites are presented -- not for the last time -- with the essential moral choice that they must face, and the rewards for choosing well, along with the consequences for choosing poorly.
We learn that doing good things will earn God's protection from enemies. That does not mean that victims of terror, God forbid, were sinful. But it does mean that we can respond to evil by committing ourselves to a higher path.
This week's portion describes the major sacrifices that are to be offered by the Jewish people, including those that are offered only by the priestly Kohen class, and physical requirements of the people (men) who serve in that role.
Inter alia, there are interesting commandments -- such as an injection to treat animals with respect and care, first, by letting a mother animal nurse her offspring for a week before being offered in any sacrifice; and second, by refraining from slaughtering an animal and its offspring on the same day.
The commandments regarding animals remind us of the purpose of those regarding human beings: to uphold a divine connection, through ritual.
https://www.chabad.org/library/article_cdo/aid/111878/jewish/Rabbi-Isaac-Luria-The-Ari-Hakodosh.htm
