Eternal Flame and Sacrifice
Tetzaveh Drash by Daniel Koster
Why does God want all this? This week, God instructs the Israelites to maintain an eternal oil lamp, to construct extremely intricate (that is, expensive) robes for the priests, and to sacrifice a ram on the altar of the Tabernacle. The eternal flame is a familiar symbol carried on by modern synagogues, and we expect our rabbis to look nice, though maybe not twelve precious stones arranged in a grid. But just imagine if instead of distributing challah and your choice of wine or juice, we slaughtered a whole ram right here. Blood on the altar, blood on the earlobes and the toes, blood even on the intricate robes with the precious stones. This was the kind of hands-on worship God expected from our ancestors.
Three thousand years later the most gruesome part of our worship is how long it takes. Since the construction of the tabernacle, the Ark of the Covenant was captured by the Philistines in the book of Samuel, the Babylonians in the book of Kings, and the Nazis in Raiders of the Lost Ark, and since then its whereabouts are unknown. Without the Ark, we cannot conduct the rituals we were commanded, and so we worship through song, prayer, and fasting. The people in the time of Moses might have predicted that as soon as Israel stopped practicing these rituals we would lose our connection with God, and be destroyed or assimilated.
Were they right? God no longer gives us specific instructions. Many times has our number been greatly reduced by our enemies. And we struggle to maintain the essence of our tradition against dilution in the culture of the nations. Is this because God has turned his back on us? On the other hand, never in history have Jews been safer and more able to practice their faith than today. We are free to maintain synagogues, museums, and community centers around the world. And our people have successfully defended our homeland from over seven decades of political and physical attack. Never in history has the world been as wealthy, safe, and free as it is now, even in the poorest and most dangerous places, and Jews have as great a share in these blessings as anyone else.
Unless we are blind to the amazing fortune we have inherited, how can we believe God has turned his back on us? Despite our sins, we remain blessed. What then was the purpose of animal sacrifice? Like all the commandments, I believe sacrifice is not for God’s benefit, but for ours. It may be that the story gives so much detail about the priestly robes not because that’s the robe you or I need to make, but because a uniform represents the specific role life demands each of us fulfill. We are instructed about sacrifice not because that’s the sacrifice we need to make, but because life will demand we sacrifice something that is most precious to us. You or I might have to sacrifice a bad habit, a relationship, or the opportunity to do our favorite thing. Drugs actually are an effective way to make ourselves feel good, but life demands we sacrifice them for alertness and presence. Sleeping with many partners is popular for a reason, but life demands we sacrifice this for a deeper relationship with just one partner. We all have someone we’d like to murder, but you get the idea. Once a ram is slaughtered, it’s gone. But the sacrifices modern people must make can be undone in an instant, if the opportunity emerges.
God spoke to Moses and explained exactly what sacrifices needed to be made. We may think we are not so lucky, and yet, if any one of us earnestly asks this question: what one thing am I doing that I know is hurting me…
The first time I heard that question the answer came to me immediately, as clear as any voice from heaven. And unless you are the only perfect person here, you probably heard an answer too. We all have a ram to sacrifice. Whatever success I have today, I attribute to my decision to listen to the answer and stop doing the stupid thing I knew I shouldn’t be doing. Am I done? No, I know what stupid things I’m still doing. I’ll stop eventually. See, the faithful among the Israelites didn’t stress about giving up their choicest animals because they had faith that if they gave up their animals now, God would ensure they had enough animals to sacrifice in the future. They are role models in this respect—the rest of us have imperfect faith, and we hesitate to make the sacrifices, even when we feel life demands them. We believe God will replace the things we sacrifice with something better, but we don’t always believe it enough to make the jump. Don’t feel bad; that’s what makes life so interesting.
I have heard from a number of Jews lately about the rising tide, the oncoming wave of antisemitism. I am told that pockets of hate exist throughout our communities, committing hateful acts and endangering our people. And of course there will always be hate. The Jews are a fine people, but we can’t please everyone. Atheism is the fastest growing religious identity in the world—even God himself can’t please everyone. Yet for every public utterance of hate, for every act of violence against us, the public outcry is far greater. When else in history have our communities and governments had our back to the extent they do now?
This week commemorates one instance when someone tried to wipe out the Jews and failed. Yet our tradition does not tell us to grieve that an attempt was made, nor to fret that someone will soon try again. Our tradition is to be joyful, to celebrate that we are still here. And we are still here. If our enemies ever persecute us again, let us not be the ones who say, we didn’t know how good we had it. We are living the dream of our ancestors, to live in a time when we are safe and free. Want to keep it that way? Here’s what worked for our ancestors: make the sacrifices God commands you to make. Fulfill the role he commands you to fulfill. And keep the eternal light of hope, faith, and gratitude burning.
