Rabbi's Derasha

The dominant theme in the Parasha is preparations for the entrance into Eretz Yisrael.  We spend all of the second half of the book of Bamidbar and all of Devarim in the last year in the desert, sitting on the brink.  Moshe Rabenu can see the land even if he won’t enter it.  

So what, then, are the Korbanot doing here?  They will be part of the service in the Mishkan in Eretz Yisrael but in general this book does not contain much about the operations of the Mishkan.  What is this doing here?  I think putting them here encapsulates a very important message about what is about to happen.  

One of the ways to explain this is to note something that the Rambam does in the Mishne Torah.  As many people know, there are 14 books. What the Rambam says is always important but we learn things from the structure of these books, even from their order.  

The first section is called the Book of Knowledge, and it includes the foundations, the underpinning, of everything.  What the Rambam called the 13 foundations of faith are mostly contained in this book.  Hashem’s existence and how He interacts with the world are there. Character development is there, and the laws about the learning of Torah.  Repentance, which is a process that defies physical limitations of time and space, is also there.  These are the foundations.

But what comes next?  Book number two is called Ahava, or love, and book number three is about “times,” Shabbat and the holidays.  He puts them in this order because he wants to lay out first the anchors of Jewish life that do not change: Sh’ma, Davening, Tefillin, Talit, Mezuza, and Bris Mila.  The cadence of these is at least continual in reminding us of our connection with Hashem.  In terms of Bris, it is constant -- no matter the situation, a Bris doesn’t go away.  

Book three, the book of times, on the other hand, is about the calendar.  Shabbat of course, and even the holidays, have a regularity to them too but they are subject to that relentless variable called time.  

The point is made well with Mezuza.  If someone is walking through a doorway, the person is on the move.  That is why the word for doorway comes from the word for movement (Zaz).  We fix a scroll on that doorway because we want someone on the move to realize that some things are fixed, or anchored, even when we are on the move.  The book of love comes first because that prepares us, anchors us, before the onslaught of change.  

When we come to the offerings, we are highlighting Mussafim, the extra offerings we bring on Shabbat and the holidays.  But not not before we read on to what these additions add.  There can’t be an additional offering until there is a daily offering.  So even though we’ve read out the daily offerings before, we do it again.  The daily offerings are an anchor which happens continually.  Only if they are in place can we speak of adding something else.  

There is a famous Midrash that surveys the opinions of the Sages about the most important verse of the Torah.  What verse encapsulates everything the Torah wants to get across?   R’ Akiva famously says that V’Ahavta L’Rechecha K’mocha, loving your fellow Jew, is the most important verse.  Another sage says it has to be “Zeh Sefer Toldot Adam,” the beginning of the begot section of Parashat Bereishit, because that tells the story of everyone, not just Jews.  (The Torah is a book that relates to everyone, after all.)  But there are other opinions as well.  Shimon ben Pazai chooses another verse: Et HaKeves Echad Ta’aseh Vaboker V’Et Hakeves Hasheni Ta’aseh Bein HaArbayim.  This is from our Parasha and it simply refers to the regular daily offerings -- a lamb in the morning and a lamb in the afternoon.  It says that daily worship, daily connecting with Hashem, is the foundation of the Torah.  Looking at all of the suggestions, the Midrash says that ben Pazai is the winner.  

We read the first of the three Hatoras for the Three Weeks today.  We are leading up to Tisha B’Av.  In a year like this, we don’t need much to remind us of the disaster that is exile.  We have a fresh sense of the precariousness of exile.  I’m not saying we’re in the 40s again.  I’m not even saying we’re in the 30s.  But we are certainly aware of how fragile things are.  The Three Weeks are about starting to pick up the pieces.  One begins with the basic building blocks.  We first need to have a sense of what has to be there always.  Great things can be created afterward, each according to his or her strengths and his or her creative vision.  But we all need -- first, before all else -- the basics of regularly connecting to Hashem.