With Appreciation to My Mentor Rabbi Mitch Chefitz z”l
What does it mean to sacrifice something? According to the on-line Miriam Webster Dictionary it means one of the following
1: an act of offering to a deity something precious
Especially: the killing of a victim on an altar
2: the act of giving up or losing something of value for the sake of something else
I’m going to put 1 aside and focus on 2. What is the “something else” for which we sacrifice? In Judaism it is getting close to God, לקרב or קירוב, which was talked about in last week’s Bat Mitzvah speech. Something of value from one’s flock is freely given in order to strengthen one’s relationship with the Holy One.
Parshat Tzav discusses the same 5 korbanot, or sacrifices, that we discussed last week with VaYikra. I’d like to focus on a specific verse from the guilt offering, or asham.
“With loaves of leavened bread he should bring his offering, with his feast thanksgiving peace-offering.”[1] Now leavened bread might be the last thing on our minds right now. There is a story I learned from my teacher, Rabbi Mitch Chefitz z”l, who learned it from Rabbi Shlomo Carlebach z”l who would often spend time at Mitch and Walli’s home in Miami. It is entitled “The Baker and the Janitor.”
Not all Jews left Spain after the expulsion in 1492. Many converted to Catholicism and remained. Some converted only on the surface but observed Jewish customs in secret.
Among them were Joseph, a baker, and his wife Maria (Miriam). They left Spain and settled in Safed, Israel.
Joseph was a knowledgeable and diligent baker, but a simple and ignorant Jew. He desired earnestly to learn Jewish practice and serve the Holy One in a Jewish manner. He attended services regularly. One Saturday morning he heard the Rabbi deliver a teaching that changed his life.
The Rabbi taught about the implements within the Tent of Meeting – the Ark of the Covenant, the Altar, the Menorah – and lastly the Table for the Showbread. Every week the Cohen (the priest) put fresh bread on the table.
Joseph returned home from the synagogue ecstatic. “I know what God wants,” he told Miriam. “He wants bread!”
The next week he chose his two best loaves of Shabbat bread to bring to the synagogue on Friday afternoon. The synagogue was empty. Joseph approached the aron kodesh – the Holy Ark – with trepidation, unsure if what he was about to do was appropriate. “Holy One,” he said aloud, “I’ve learned you desire bread. I’ve learned that every week fresh loaves were brought before you. I am just a baker. I don’t know Jewish law. But I do know how to bake bread, and these loaves are the best of the batch that just came from the oven. I want to give them to you.” With that said, Joseph opened the curtain of the ark and deposited the loaves. He closed the curtain and returned home to Miriam’s Shabbat table.
That night he was filled with apprehension. Had he behaved correctly? Had he offered the loaves properly? Would his gift be accepted?
He did not know that soon after he left the synagogue, the janitor entered and approached the ark. The janitor was crying. He said, “Holy One, I don’t complain much. But my wife is hungry. I’m hungry. The Rabbi doesn’t pay me enough to provide food for an entire week. Shabbat is coming. We have no bread to put on the table. Can You help me, please?”
With that, on impulse, the janitor opened the ark and saw – two loaves of bread! They were still warm when he took them. He closed the curtain, backed up as he bowed again and again, saying, “Thank You, thank You, thank You.” He returned home with the loaves to celebrate Shabbat with his wife.
The next morning the baker came to the synagogue anxious to know if his offering had been accepted. Imagine his joy when the time came for the Torah reading and the ark was opened. The loaves were gone! The Holy One had accepted his gift!
Now – if our story ended here, that would be enough. But the story continues. This pageant was played out the next week, and the week after – loaves deposited, loaves received – week after week for years.
At last came a week when the baker, much older now, came with his loaves on a Friday afternoon and didn’t realize he was not alone. The Rabbi, now an old Rabbi, heard the baker and observed him open the curtain of the Ark to put in the loaves of bread.
“What are you doing?” the Rabbi asked. The baker told him he had been doing this for years because it was what the Holy One wanted, and that every week his offering had been received.
“Nonsense! Let’s step aside and see what’s going on.”
After some time, the janitor, now stooped with age, came forward to the Holy Ark, “Holy One,” he began. “Again I need your help…” He opened the ark and withdrew the loaves. “Thank You,” he said, backing up. “Thank You, thank You, thank You…”
“What are you doing?” the Rabbi interrupted him.
The surprised janitor said, “Every week the Holy One provides me two loaves for Shabbat.”
“You idiot! It isn’t the Holy One! It’s this baker here who puts the bread into the ark.”
At that moment the door of the synagogue burst open and an emissary of the great Rabbi Isaac Luria stood framed in the light. “The Master wants to see you right away,” he said. “He wants you to come with me now.”
All three followed the emissary to the study hall of the Ari – that great Lion of Faith– Isaac Luria. Luria said first to the Rabbi, “It’s time for you to die. Go home, make your confessions, and prepare yourself.”
“But why?”
“In truth you were scheduled to die years ago. But because you initiated this ritual of the baker and the janitor, you were permitted to live. Each week the Holy One derived great joy from this process of giving and receiving, but now that you’ve brought it to an end, there’s no longer reason for your life to continue.”
The Ari turned to the baker. “As for you, continue to choose the best loaves on Friday afternoon, but you no longer need to bring them to synagogue. You and Miriam together bring them to the home of the janitor and his wife and present the loaves to them. But know this – you are not placing them in the hands of the janitor. You are placing them in the hands of God.”
He turned to the janitor. “And you, receive the loaves in gratitude as if you were receiving them from the hands of God.”
For years after, the baker continued to present loaves to the Holy One, and the janitor received loaves from the Holy One saying over and over again, “Thank You, thank You, thank You.”
This is the ultimate act of sacrifice-getting close to God. May each of us find ways over Passover to get closer to God through the offerings of our hearts.
[1] Leviticus 7:13
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