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Shemini
Leviticus 9:1-11:47
What does it mean to serve someone or something other than yourself?
The construction of the desert mishkan (tabernacle), which we have been reading about for the past weeks, is the paradigm for what constitutes work in Jewish law and lore. That is why the laws on prohibited forms of work on Shabbat are derived from the actions performed during the construction of the tabernacle.
At this point in the Torah, the mishkan has been built and is now being dedicated for sacred use. “Moses said: ‘This is what God has commanded that you (plural) do, that the Presence of God may appear to you.’” (Leviticus 9:6)
The commentators puzzle over the fact that the commandment is expressed in second-person plural, as if these were instructions for the whole community. But the directives are specifically for Aaron, as he begins to perform the sacrificial rites. Why the plural? What are the Israelites supposed to do?
The Malbim (19th-century Ukraine) said clearly, “We do not know what Moses commanded them to do. Surely they did nothing. It was only Aaron who performed his service.”
The Malbim refers back to an ancient midrash, which imagines that in this moment in our text, Moses was commanding Israel: “Eradicate the evil inclination from your heart and be all of you inspired by the same awe, and be of one mind to serve the Omnipotent. Just as God is One, unique in the world, so should your service be uniquely directed to God alone.” (Sifra, quoted in Nehama Leibowitz’s “Studies in Vayikra”)
The Sifra strays far from the simple meaning of the text in order to make sense of the plural form of the verb “You shall do.” What should the Israelites do? They should work on their own hearts and push past the temptations posed by “evil inclination.” In everything they do, they should conduct themselves with awe, with awareness of the divine and with focused desire to serve.
These interpretations suggest that all of our lives, even everyday activities, should be single-mindedly focused on service. When you get out of bed in the morning, dedicate the day to doing acts of kindness and justice. When you shower, imagine preparing yourself for the sacred work that may come your way during the day. When you eat breakfast, picture yourself nourishing your body so that you will have the strength to do the work of love, kindness and justice that is yours to do today. When you eat lunch, think about people all around the world who are hungry.
The Sefat Emet makes a similar point when, in commenting on this same verse, he recalls the famous saying in Pirkei Avot: “Do not be like servants who serve the master in order to receive a reward; be like servants who serve the master not in order to receive reward; and let the fear of heaven be upon you.” (Mishnah Avot 1:3) “The meaning here is that all of a person’s efforts should be directed toward doing the Creator’s will,” writes Rabbi Arthur Green in “The Language of Truth.”
Many questions can be asked about these texts. Who is the “master”? What might that mean for those of us who do not believe in a personal God? Isn’t it humiliating to think of ourselves as servants rather than independent people with gifts and agency? And, even if we answered all of these questions, how could we possibly maintain this level of focus throughout our days and throughout our lives?
What this text means to me is that we can — and so often do — devote a great percentage of our time and energy advancing our own needs and desires. We live in a society that obsessively pushes us to hurry, to produce, to advance ourselves, to advertise our own creations. It is hard for us to notice how much these distorted messages influence us. Except for those dedicated to caring for loved ones, clients or patients, the best part of our time and energy generally goes to me, myself and I.
These texts suggest flipping this way of living on its head. Of course we need to take care of ourselves on many levels — because we deserve to have our needs met, just as everyone else does. But how much energy, creativity and focus is left to care for others, to contribute to an ailing society and to work to better the world?
The “master” — life itself — is much in need of our care and inventiveness. There is so much work to be done, so many problems to be solved, so many bridges to be built. If each of us emulated the high priest, whose intention was to serve the Divine completely, with purity of heart and sacred focus, the world would surely be a better place.