Parashat Tzav

Geri Bloch, High School English Teacher

By the time this dvar Torah appears, Passover will be just days away. I had always wondered why the story of the plagues and the exodus from Egypt was never timed to coincide with the actual seders. Of course, I learned early on that Passover was to be celebrated on the 15th of Aviv, which is now called Nisan. Passover changes each year because the Hebrew calendar is lunar based, while “our” calendar, the Gregorian Calendar, is not. In my youth, I thought this was a huge shortcoming; however, I now comprehend the importance of the disparity between time and place.
This year, on the Shabbat morning of January 23rd, we read Parashat Bo. Bo begins with the plague of locusts and ends with the expulsion of the Jews from Egypt; however, we are commanded to retell the story each year. Passover comes nine weeks later — what is going on? 

Between Parashat Bo and Parashat Tzav, with its seder that evening, there are two holidays: Tu BiShvat and Purim. Of course, there are nine Shabbatot and two Roshei Chodeshot, but as the weeks go by, we realize that, “if Purim comes, can Pesach be far behind”? As the Israelites wander in the desert, they complain bitterly and even create a golden calf to worship in Moses’ absence communing with God. Yes, even after all that God has done to free the Israelites from slavery, they have behaved badly. Through Moses, God gives the Jewish people parameters for their behavior: the Aseret HaDibrot, the Ten Statements. The Israelites are given labors to create the Mishkan (Taberbacle), and in Parashat Tzav, God teaches Moses about animal sacrifices and the laws concerning them, so that he will instruct Aaron and his sons to perform the rituals to God’s standards. God is involved with every aspect of the building of the Mishkan, even the clothing of the priests. In the middle of the brown wilderness, there is to be finery; sumptuous stones, luxurious cloth, and gold and silver will contribute to the beauty of the Israelites’ worship.

But where will God be? Just as S(h)e has been a pillar of fire leading the Israelites out of Egypt, God commands: .אש תמיד תוקד על-המזבח לא תכבה “A perpetual fire shall be kept burning on the altar, not to go out.” Retelling the story of the Exodus in each generation is a metaphorical, yet perpetual, fire on the altars in our homes. The seder plate sits in the middle of that altar, the youngest at the table proudly sings “The Four Questions,” a rousing “Dayenu” reveals what would have been enough, and “Chad Gadya,” a sixteenth-century tune, may or may not be a symbolic look at empires that have tried to conquer the Jews. 

At this time in our history, we have been faced with a plague, but as we sit down at our “altars,” the perpetual fire in our souls will help us teach another generation about how God delivered us from slavery to freedom. May we all “stand at Sinai” together and look to that perpetual fire for the blessing it is.

Shabbat Shalom.