Sermons

Shabbat Shalom

This week’s parsha is most famous for the tragedy that happened on the first day that the priests operated the Mishkan, the portable sanctuary that our ancestors erected in the wilderness. For seven days Moses has filled the duties of the priests as they are installed into their new holy duties. The first day that the priests take over the sacrificial duties is suddenly marred when a fire from God erupts from the alter and kills the two oldest sons of Aaron.

The text tells us that the reason for their deaths was because they brought what is described as “strange fire” before God. Moses, who does not display any sorrow over the deaths of his nephews, tells Aaron, their father, that God will be sanctified by those who are closest to God, implying that those who would officiate in the Mishkan, will have the most to lose, including their life, if they do not perform their duties correctly. Aaron, in shock and in sorrow, remains silent. While the text does not tell us very much about why these two young men died, the Rabbis of the Talmud try to create a lesson for all of us by imagining several different actions that the two men might have done to deserve their fate. It is left to Aaron and his wife, Elisheva, to mourn the terrible loss of their children.

But while this is clearly the most important action that occurs in our parsha, I want to comment today on a different moment in the celebrations of that day, something that happened before the tragedy in the Mishkan. God’s presence fills the Mishkan, and Aaron, the newly ordained High Priest, and Moses, the Prophet, enter into the tent of meeting. When they emerge, the text teaches us that they blessed the people who were gathered together on that day.

My friend, Professor Mark Fridenberg, in a recent D’var Torah, wondered what kind of a blessing Moses and Aaron gave to the people, and he offered an interesting observation. We know the verses that would become what we today call “the Priestly Benediction” but those words are not given in the text in this book of Leviticus. The text of that prayer will be revealed in the sixth chapter of Bamidbar, the Book of Numbers. Did Moses and Aaron give a different prayer? If so, what words might they have said on the first day of operation of the Mishkan? I can’t tell you what they said because I was not there that day, but that never stopped the Sages from speculating on what kind of a blessing they offered. The Sages rarely make up their own biblical quotes, rather, usually, they look into the Bible and find a quote from someplace else that they can insert into the story to fill the gap left by the Torah text. This time is no exception.

The Sages find in the book of Psalms, Psalm 90, which carries the title, “A Prayer of Moses, The Man of God.” The psalm ends with the blessing, “May the favor of the Lord our God be upon us; let the work of our hands prosper, O prosper the work of our hands.” The Rabbis picked a great blessing to attach to the story of the first day of operation for the Mishkan. The Mishkan, after all, was the work of many hands and the blessing is that all that the people might do should prosper as the Mishkan will prosper. It would be a blessing that would not be lost on the people who had built the Mishkan with their own hands.

But let me focus here, on the hands. Later Sages would teach that when Aaron blessed the people, he would lift up his hands. This was symbolic of calling down from heaven the blessings of God. Did Aaron and Moses, in this moment, lift up their hands to bless the people? Was lifting the hands part of the uniform code of blessings? Did the blessings of God extend to the people through the fingertips of the priests?

What does it mean to “lift up our hands?” In the story of Cain and Abel, when Cain lifts up his hands it is against his brother, and it implies an act of violence. To this day, when we speak of someone lifting their hands, we often see that as a preface to being punched in the nose. Someone is going to get hurt! Clearly that can’t be the purpose of lifting our hands in blessing and prayer.

It turns out that there are many reasons why we might lift up our hands. We might be reaching out for help; we lift up our hands to take hold of whatever lifeline may be offered. We may reach for a handle, a rope, or a stick to help us get back on our feet. We may reach out for the hand of someone else who is prepared to support us when we have faltered. I don’t believe that this is the reason the priest raises their hands in blessing.

We lift up our hands when we want to be recognized. This is a convention that we learn when we go to school. It would be chaos if everyone would talk at the same time, so we raise our hand for the teacher to recognize us for our question or for our answer to a question. Even in a Zoom meeting, if we wish to be recognized, there is a button to push that will place a hand icon in our Zoom square to let the leader of the meeting know that we have something to add to the conversation. When we call out to a friend standing across the street or across the room, we call out and raise our hand so our friend can see that we are looking for their attention. Raising our hand is one way of standing out from the crowd, but I don’t think that this is why the priest raises his hand in blessing.

We also raise our hand when we want to volunteer for a task. When there is a need and it will take personal involvement to get the job done, we raise our hand to say, “Here I am – I will help.” Many of the most important jobs in our homes, in our synagogue, in our community and in our country count on people to raise their hands, to offer their hands to help, no matter what the need may be. The Torah is filled with moments when God asks human beings, “Who shall I send?” There is always someone who raises their hand and says “Hineini – Here I am, send me!” It is a very spiritual moment when we volunteer to help God make the world a better place.

I think that this is getting closer to the reason that the High Priest raises his hand in order to bless the people. He is indeed reaching out to offer his own hands to perform a blessing that God wants to shower down on the people. We usually think that blessings are something that human beings do in their spiritual moments, but in Judaism, all blessings come from God, and we human beings call upon God for the divine blessings to descend into our lives.

The High Priest uses his hands not so God can save him or in order for God to see him in our time of need, but he raises his hand, almost like an antenna, to receive the blessings from God and direct it to the people waiting for God’s blessing. In congregations where the Cohanim still recite the priestly benediction during a holiday service, the Cohanim cover their heads with their tallit and sway their hands back and forth. They cover their heads so that we don’t think that a human being is the source of our blessing, and they sway their hands so that the blessings from God will spread equally over the entire congregation.

But most of all, the hands of the priests are raised in order to reach out to the heavens to pull down, on our behalf, the blessings of God. And to send back our joy at having been blessed. A blessing is not a one-way street. We are joyful over the blessings we receive, and God is joyful because an act of God has made us happy. A blessing is not just a spiritual moment in our lives, but it is the basic building block of the relationship between ourselves and the divine.

The lifting of the priest’s hand is also a call for us to lift our hands as well. To reach out to others who may be in need. To volunteer our time and energy to make this world a better place for all people to live. We need to remember to lift our hands to speak out for what we know to be what is right and good. We need to lift our hands to vote for the candidate and the policies we believe our country needs to be a blessing to all of its citizens and to all the other many people in the world who rely on our country for prosperity, for security, and for peace.

When was the last time any of us raised our hands to say, “Hineini – Here I am, choose me?” More often than not we keep our hands to ourselves and try to blend in with the crowd. We are afraid to call attention to ourselves and to volunteer when the needs are great. If you don’t believe me, ask the members of our synagogue’s nominating committee. They know all too well the excuses that people give to avoid extra responsibility. That is why we owe so much to those who are officers and directors of our congregation. They stand up for us and do all they can to grow and improve our congregation. This week, the nominating committee sent out the list, pending board approval, of those who, this year, agreed to stand up, raise their hand and say, “Hineini.”

But just because all the slots were filled on our Board of Directors, does not mean that there are no more places for volunteers. There are many needs that our synagogue has and there is always a place for more volunteers. It is not difficult to complain about the decisions our Board of Directors make; it is always preferred to have people raise their hand and offer to help us to meet the many challenges we face.

Aaron and Moses come out of the Tent of Meeting and raise their hands to bless the people. Perhaps they were blessing the hands of the people who had worked so hard to make the Mishkan possible. In May we will vote on the new slate of Directors for our community, and in November, we will vote for those who will represent our community, our state, and our country. We will need the hands of everyone to lift up not only to vote but to say, Hineini, Here I am, let me help. We need everyone’s hands today more than ever.

Lift up your hands to help and you too can bring down a blessing, a blessing for all of us as we say … Amen and Shabbat Shalom