Parashat Tzav

Rabbi Harry Pell, Associate Head of School, in memory of Aner Shapira z"l

One of the things we train our students to look for when they read Chumash is words or phrases that repeat. A close reading of Parashat Tzav will reveal that, by far, the most commonly repeated phrase in the parashah is “את אהרן ואת בניו…” – “…to Aharon and to his sons.” Over and over, we hear about Aharon and his sons, the priests, and we specifically hear about them in the context of what is being told to them, the instructions being given to them, and even the clothing and anointing oil being placed on them for the purpose of service in the Mishkan (Tabernacle). But for most of the parashah, we hear very little about what they themselves do.

In a way, this makes sense to me. It was only a few weeks ago that we read about a different scenario when Aharon was approached by a mass of Israelites directing him with what they wanted him to do, and the outcome there – the creation of the Golden Calf – was not Aharon’s finest moment, by far. So as I read this week’s parashah, it makes sense to me that Aharon and his sons might have frozen in the face of all of these directions, instructions, and actions being done to them. They had found themselves in a situation they didn’t exactly ask for, and weren’t sure how to respond. 
Aharon’s experience in this moment also resonated for me on a different level. I recently returned from the Leffell School Solidarity Mission to Israel, an extremely powerful week of volunteering and bearing wittness with Leffell School parents and colleagues in a post October 7th Israel. My time there kept bringing to mind a quote I often reference when I visit Poland with our students. It was written by Victor Frankl, an Austrian Jew who was a psychiatrist and a Shoah survivor. In reflecting on his experience, and on human experience generally, he authored a book that he titled Man’s Search for Meaning and in it he wrote:

“Everything can be taken from a man but one thing: the last of the human freedoms—to choose one’s attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one’s own way.”

We had the opportunity during the mission to spend time with families who lost children on October 7, and with families whose children are being held captive by Hamas in Gaza. We were also fortunate to spend time with Israeli soldiers, called up from their regular lives to defend their country and to conduct themselves with morality in the face of an enemy that hides behind civilians. None of them chose the events of October 7, but they each – in their own way – chose their attitude in response to these horrific events. They each chose the way they would move forward following events that they would never have chosen in a million years. 

One of the people we met was Moshe Shapira, who told us the story of his son Aner, who was killed on October 7. Aner was at the Nova Festival and in his efforts to run away, he wound up with 28 others in a migunit (road-side rocket shelter) that was ultimately surrounded by Hamas terrorists. Aner didn’t choose that set of circumstances, but he did choose what he would do next. He broke off the neck of a glass bottle and stood vigil at the entrance of the migunit to do whatever he could to save those trapped with him. The Hamas terrorists threw grenades into the migunit seven times, and seven times Aner threw the grenades back before they could explode. Aner was ultimately murdered by the Hamas terrorists, but his actions – his choice of how to respond in a situation he didn’t choose – saved the lives of at least seven people who were with him in the migunit.

I don’t know whether Aharon felt his life was in danger, although perhaps he did — the sin of the Golden Calf was already a close call with punishment and next week we will learn that, tragically, serving in the Mishkan can come with fatal consequences. For the moment, though, I imagine Aharon must have been feeling the enormous weight of this role that had been thrust upon him and his sons. He had already messed up once, and I can imagine him struggling with how he would respond to this detailed set of weighty expectations. It actually isn’t until the fifth aliyah that Aharon and his sons transition from the passive recipients of others’ actions and take an action step themselves, laying their hands on the heads of animals to be sacrificed. And it isn’t until the very last pasuk (verse) in the entire parashah when we learn that Aharon and his sons did all the things that Hashem had commanded them through Moshe:
 
“ויעש אהרן ובניו את כל הדברים אשר צוה ה׳ ביד משה.” 
 
 
Like Aner Shapira z”l, Aharon faced a moment of decision of how he would respond in a situation that was beyond his control. I imagine that he took stock of his fears and hesitations, and also the great need of the Israelites for his spiritual leadership, and he ultimately said yes, he was there to serve and to do all that Hashem had directed him to do through Moshe. Aharon decided to take action – ויעש –  for the sake of our people. Thousands of years later, and in entirely different circumstances, Aner did the same.

God willing, our lives will never be in danger as Aner’s was, and as Aharon may have perceived his to have been, but Victor Frankl’s wisdom isn’t limited to extreme situations. In life, we don’t always get to choose what happens to us. But we always get to choose how we respond. 

Shabbat Shalom

This Dvar Torah is dedicated to the memory of Aner Shapira z”l and to the many other victims of October 7, so many of whom took actions to save others in a situation that was not of their creation.