TETZAVEH 5765-2005
"A Flame in Every Jewish Heart"
This
coming week's parasha, parashat Tetzaveh, focuses primarily
on the design and manufacture of the priestly vestments.
The parasha, however, opens with a commandment to take
(Exodus 27:20) "Shemen zayit zach, kah'tit la'mah'or,"
pure pressed olive oil for illumination, that is to
burn continuously in the Menorah--the candelabra, that
stood in the Tabernacle.
In
previous studies, we have elaborated on the meaning
of the Menorah and its candles. While the various branches
represent the range of all of human wisdom, the central
branch of the candelabra, from which all the branches
extend, underscores the centrality of Torah to Jewish
life and human intelligence. The verse in Proverbs 6:23
reaffirms that message: "Kee nehr mitzvah, v'Torah
ohr," for the commandment is a candle, and
Torah is illumination. Our rabbis have explained that,
while the commandment is a candle, the mitzvah's purpose
is to illuminate the path to Torah, the source from
which all light comes.
In
addition to the literal meaning that we glean from this
parasha concerning the centrality of the Menorah and
the light of Torah, our rabbis have explained these
verses homiletically as well. Pardesei Yosef,
cited in Itturei Torah (vol. 3, p.229), declares
that every Jew must light a Ner Tamid (a perpetual
light), the light of G-d, in his her own heart, but
not only in the Tabernacle, the synagogue or in the
house of study, or during the time of prayer, but also
(Exodus 27:21) "mee'chutz la'pah'ro'chet,"
outside the curtain--in the street, in business when
engaging in common matters, and during one's interaction
with others.
Yes,
of course every Jew is expected to have a flame in his/her
heart, to feel inspired, invigorated, and excited about
Jewish life. The well known rabbinic interpretation
of the verse in the Shema (Deuteronomy 6:6), "Asher
ah'no'chee m'tzav'chah ha'yom," these things
that I command you today, underscores that G-d's
commandments should always be fresh in our hearts and
minds. Every single day and every moment of our lives
a Jew should feel that the Torah was given that very
day or moment. The implication is clear that every Jew
is to feel excited about being Jewish, feel the thrill
of performing mitzvot, and to discover the passion of
observance and the fervor of celebration.
But,
the interpretation of the Pardesei Yosef goes
further than most conventional interpretations: Yes,
every Jew must have a flaming fervor in his/her heart,
but not only in the Tabernacle, not only in the House
of Worship, not only in the Yeshiva, not only during
times of prayer, but outside the pah'ro'chet
as well, outside the curtain--in the street, in business,
at the baseball game, and in the supermarket.
Unfortunately,
many 20th and 21st century Jews, even those who are
observant and religiously committed, expect their rabbis
and rebbetzins to be passionate, while they themselves
are cool about their observance, and casual about their
Jewish practice. They feel as if they've fulfilled their
obligation because they've delegated "surrogates"
to be excited for them, while they themselves are often
indifferent, or preoccupied with other matters.
A
major issue of concern that is now raging in the circles
of the committed Jewish community is the matter of "children
at risk." There is what has been called an epidemic
of young Jews who grew up in observant homes, attended
the finest yeshivot and Day Schools, and have abandoned
the religious life, sometimes to embrace not only a
secular lifestyle, but also to engage in socially unacceptable
activities such as vandalism, theft, substance abuse,
and promiscuity. Significant numbers of youngsters have
also begun to run away from home. Estimates of the numbers
of children at risk range from more than 6%, to close
to 16% in some heavily populated religious neighborhoods.
Although
scientific studies of this population are still scarce,
various authorities have begun to suggest factors that
might be at the root of this large-scale defection.
One reason that is often suggested is that the freedom
of the modern world makes it easier to leave Judaism
and to slip away. Others blame the decadent values of
the outside world, the overemphasis on sex, violence
and materialism. Another reason often cited is that
the outside world is more alluring, more fun, and the
religious world too restricting.
In
her forthcoming groundbreaking study of the issue entitled,
Off the Derech, Faranak Margolese suggests that,
in many cases, Jews are opting out of Judaism not because
"the outside world pulled them in, but rather
because the observant one pushed them out."
Margolese goes on to document how these young people
who grew up in observant families and have forsaken
Jewish life, still have great regard for Judaism. In
fact, very often, in their opinions, all other alternative
lifestyles pale in comparison to Judaism. If that's
the case, why did they leave? They leave because they
found that practicing Jews were often unsavory and unacceptable
role models; angry, bitter, mean, and dishonest.
There's
much more that can be said and written about the "dropout"
issue. But, if we are serious about addressing the issue
of those who are leaving Judaism in large numbers, it
will be necessary for committed Jews to see themselves
as "ambassadors" for Jewish life, who are
prepared to serve as inspirational role models, who
feel the excitement of Jewish life every moment of the
day, every day of the week, every week of the month,
and every month of the year.
If
we are to stem the tide of the large-scale abandonment
that is taking place within the committed community,
and to win back the 90% of America's Jews who long ago
gave up on Jewish life, we need role models, positive
role models, role models who are willing to ignite the
flame in their hearts, to light the Ner Tamid in
themselves, not just in the Tabernacle or in the tent,
not only in the synagogue or in the school, but in the
street, the marketplace, the home and outside the home.
If we do this, we will not only survive, we will prevail.
May
you be blessed.