Parashat Tzav
The Eternal Light
The sacrifices teach us about constancy in relating to God.
By Rabbi Kerry Olitzky
This commentary is provided by special arrangement with
the Jewish Outreach Institute, an organization dedicated to creating a more
open and welcoming Judaism. To learn more, visit www.joi.org.

Like other Torah
portions, the title of this portion teaches us something about what is to
follow. Tzav, command--not a suggestion nor even a request. It is a command,
something with which we are generally only familiar in the context of the Torah
(as mitzvot) or perhaps in the armed services.
In Tzav, this
command is directly related to the giving of sacrifices. But it is not a
command to do sacrifices. Rather, the text tells us that God speaks to Moses
and tells him that if the Israelites are going to make sacrifices--as
the ancient way of coming close to God--then they have to undertake these
sacrifices in a specific way. There is little flexibility offered. The
portion--and much of the book of Leviticus--outlines these specifics. This is
not simply a case of "God is in the details," but rather, "a
relationship with God is in the details."
Yet we know that
significant evolution over time took place with the various prayers and rituals
that replaced the ancient sacrificial system as the means to develop and
maintain a relationship with the Divine. Similarly, our relationship with
God--as the Jewish people and as individuals-- developed over time. So why does
the text read as if there is a constancy?
The constancy is
in the relationship and the fire (which I also read as symbolic of passion)
that accompanies the sacrifices, not in the vehicles themselves (the
sacrifices) used to initiate or maintain the relationship. And how do we know
this? The text tells us, as well: "The fire on the altar shall be kindled
with it; it shall not go out. The priest shall burn logs upon it each and every
morning and arrange the burnt-offering on it and burn upon it the fats of the
peace-offering. A continual fire shall be lit on the altar; it shall not go
out." (Leviticus 6:5-6)
Obviously, this
is translated into the ner tamid, the eternal light that adorns the
contemporary synagogue prayer space. Irrespective of what takes place in the
sanctuary--and the Jewish community beyond it--God's light, the symbol of the
divine presence in our midst, and in our lives, never abates.
Perhaps that is
what is missing from our conversation about being an inclusive Jewish
community. We talk about including everyone, regardless of the path from whence
they came. While there are those whose path is solely a cultural path, with
others we must remember to invite God into the conversation. In that way, we
make sure that the Divine light in that conversation--of inclusion--never
abates.
Rabbi Kerry
Olitzky is the author of many inspiring books that bring the wisdom of Jewish
tradition into everyday life. He most recently co-authored 20 Things for Grandparents of Interfaith
Grandchildren to Do (And Not Do) to Nurture Jewish Identity in Their
Grandchildren and Jewish Holidays: A Brief Introduction for Christians.