A student at an adult extension course in Bible recently told me she can’t understand why anyone would expect to enjoy Vayikra. Maybe that's how it reads in English. Meanwhile, I’m sad that it’s ending. The Mishkan never moves an inch but what a journey it has been. And what a climax.
Though it is not technically the last section of the book, Behar is the culmination of this phase of the story. The Tochacha, the terrible rebuke that follows in Parashat Bechukotai, is something which belongs outside of the central theme of the book. It is, after all, contingent -- beginning with a big “If.” It did not have to occur. Not so what comes before. In Behar, we are shown the final stage of the plan that has been unfolding since Har Sinai.
The book of Vayikra picked up as the Mishkan was completed. It outlines the operations of the Mishkan and describes its dedication. Then it goes through the conditions of its use -- especially the maintenance of ritual purity -- and the state of Kedusha, or holiness, which becomes attainable if one can maintain purity. Last week, we learned that Kedusha operates not just in space but also in time. But it is still centered around the Mishkan. The holidays include a “fire offering,” which means that the context of the holidays is also part of what occurs in the Mishkan.
This is all part of a grand shift, the transfer of the divine presence at Har Sinai to the mobile Mishkan. Up and running, the Mishkan becomes the traveling home of the divine presence. What was stationary at Har Sinai is now mobile. But the Mishkan is not the bus “Furthur” (Veiter!) of the Merry Pranksters. It has a definite destination -- the land of Israel. This week, we learn about the projected special status of the land of Israel in expanding the divine presence outward to an entire nation, what would be its permanent home.
R’ Yitzchak Twersky points out that at all three locations -- Har Sinai, the Mishkan, and the entrance into the land of Israel -- the transition is heralded by the blowing of what is referred to as the “Yovel,” a ram’s horn. It is synonymous with a Shofar and blowing it, just like on Rosh Hashana, announces Hashem’s attention, or providence, and the immanence associated with the Shechina, or divine presence. At each stage, the divine presence expands.
As we will read on Shavuot morning, the encampment at Har Sinai heard the Shofar. Once we move to the Mishkan, Behar describes the last stage of its role when it eventually reaches Eretz Yisrael -- the Yovel cycle. The 50th year of the Shmitta cycle is called Yovel because the Jubilee year begins with the blowing of the Shofar on Yom Kippur. Finally, the conquest of Eretz Yisrael, which begins with Yehoshua's conquest of Yericho, comes with a blowing of a Shofar, again called a Yovel (6:5). The progression is clear; Har Sinai gives way to the Mishkan which gives way to the land of Israel. The whole land will eventually become suffused with divine Presence; the whole land will be a Temple. Parts of the land will have more Kedusha and parts will have less, just like the Mishkan has an outer part, an inner part, and a holy of holies.
Viewed in this way, it becomes obvious why Shmitta is part of the experience of Eretz Yisrael. Just like the building of the Mishkan never pushed aside Shabbat, so also the cultivation of Eretz Yisrael cannot push aside the other Shabbat, the Sabbatical of the land every seven years.
The message at every station -- at Har Sinai, in the Mishkan, and in Eretz Yisrael -- is that Hashem alone is sovereign. If one looks at the famous “dialog” about Shmitta (25:20-23), this becomes evident. The Torah says that farmers may wonder what they will eat if they do not plant or harvest "our produce." To which Hashem answers that He will take care of “the harvest” -- which belongs not to any farmer. It is never "our/your harvest" but rather simply “the harvest” or “its harvest.” And then, to make sure the message is clear, Hashem ends his retort by saying, "For I own the land, and you are sojourners and citizens with me." We are partners, He is saying, which is why the Jewish people must be constantly aware of our part of the collaborative.
The rebuke in Bechukotai constantly repeats that our failure comes when we walk with Hashem "B'keri," which means “inconsistently” at best or “arbitrarily” at its worst. That's not fitting for a partner in a relationship, and it has dire consequences, as the rebuke shows.
A last thought about the rebuke of Bechukotai. Even after five series of punishments, of terror and panic and mayhem and death, there is still something left. Hashem remembers the patriarchs and the land. The rebuke is calamitous but it is not ruinous. Klal Yisrael will suffer but it will not be destroyed. The covenant always holds. The relationship is set back to a new place, it must reboot. But the Jewish people land in a place from which one can build. Like the disaster in Meron, there is devastation, but there is another end to the tunnel.
