In Parashat Emor, there is an echo of community as the dominant vehicle for expression of holiness which hinges on how we understand the enigmatic term for holy days, mikra'e kodesh, which the new Jewish Publication Society translation renders as "the sacred occasions" but the old JPS translation (preserved in the Hertz Humash) as "holy convocations (Leviticus 23:4)." I can further complicate things by saying that a more detailed translation can be “with My holy proclamation.” A “holy proclamation” implies that there is a gathering of people present to hear it. In the context of “Emor,” bear in mind that this also implies a sort of channeling by Moses of God’s words rather than a relaying of the words through a fallible mind and truncated tone of voice as the term “dabeir” implies, we are hearing the words as if straight from the Originator’s voice.
At issue is whether the book of Leviticus, in describing Israel's holy days as mikra'e kodesh intends to stress the attribute of time or space. I prefer the older translation which follows the commentary of Nachmanides (13th century) because it envisions assemblies of people gathered to celebrate the festival in community. I find the translation of "sacred occasions" adding little that is not already there in the designation moade Ha–Shem, "My fixed times." Thus the festivals stipulated in this rendition of the priestly calendar are occasions to reinforce a sense of community, as indeed the three pilgrimage festivals were designed to do. Even as community intensifies our experience of the holy, sacred days deepens the bonds of family and community. The interplay of time and space, calendar and community, communal worship and religious experience is exquisite.
So the importance of a “minyan” is underscored within the first three of the four chapters of Leviticus that constitutes Parashat Emor. The 24th Chapter departs, somewhat from this message and tells a rather disturbing story.
Leviticus 24:10-23 is a rare instance of a narrative segment amid the rituals, sacrifices and commandments that dominate that particular book of the Bible. It begins with an outsider, a man who is not referred to by name, but only by lineage, as the son of an Israelite mother and an Egyptian. He "goes out" and has a fight with a full-blooded Israelite. In the course of events, he curses and defames God's name. The witnesses bring the offender to Moses and he is held under guard "until the decision of the Lord should be made clear to them"(Leviticus 24:12). God declares that the man is to be taken out of the camp and stoned, and tells Moses to instruct the Israelites as to the laws of blasphemy. Indeed, Moses does so, and the man meets his death.
The story is remarkable in the degree of uncertainty that it reflects. It occurs to the observers that the unnamed man may have acted wrongly, but they are unsure if, and how, he should be punished. It would seem that even Moses does not have an answer, since God must tell him what to do. In fact this instance of Moses’ sense of being “in the weeds” on an issue occurs three more times in The Book of Numbers. We will have more to say about that later in the summer.
At the beginning of every morning service as we enter the synagogue we intone softly a few magnificently appropriate verses from the Torah. Among them, one gives voice to our hope that this might be the right moment to draw near to God: "I pray that this be an acceptable time for my prayer, O God (Psalms 69:14)." The Talmud asks: "What constitutes an acceptable time? The moment a congregation is assembled for prayer." Judaism posits a strong preference for communal prayer. God does not make light of the fervent prayers of many Jews uttered in unison.
This is both what Judaism has to offer and teach our confused and self–indulgent age. "Blessed are they who dwell in your house (Psalms l45:1)." The circuitous path to God leads away from the constricted focus on the self through the expansive world of the other. When we find renewal in the synagogue, we will have gained access to Judaism's greatest boon — this–worldly–salvation.
Cantor Eichaker
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