* Translation by Yehoshua Siskin (http://inthelandoftheJews.blogspot.com)
Mazal tov. This coming Shabbat in the Diaspora and this past Shabbat in Israel, we read the Torah portion of Bechukotai. It is the last parasha in the Book of Leviticus, the most challenging of the Five Books of Moses.
In the Book of Genesis, the world is created. In the Book of Exodus, we leave Egypt. The Book of Numbers is full of fascinating stories of our desert wanderings and the Book of Deuteronomy features the emotional parting speech of Moshe Rabbeinu. And the Book of Leviticus? It is mainly comprised of commands and instructions, is virtually devoid of stories, and is preoccupied with the sacrificial service in the Mishkan.
Many commentators note that it is precisely because of its didactic content that the Book of Leviticus is the most important of the five books. The Torah is not a suspense story or a melodramatic reality show. The Torah demands connection, immersion, and devotion -- not only when the content is easy or entertaining. If we do not have patience for the Book of Leviticus, how will we develop patience for the challenging aspects of our lives? Do we wish to become people who search only for excitement and run away from challenges?
The Jewish American author Herman Wouk, a winner of the Pulitzer Prize, once wrote about Jewish devotion in this way: *"A publisher once decided to publish a simple version of the Bible. He adapted the Five Books of Moses in a manner that simply eliminated all the laws. The Book of Leviticus was reduced to about half a page. But the Jews never cut out a single word of the Torah. The plan for building the Mishkan and the story of the splitting of the Red Sea are of equal value in their eyes."*
On Shabbat, either this past one or the coming one, we prove this once again when we complete the reading of all 859 verses in the Book of Leviticus.
And here's one of my favorite stories for the Book of Numbers we will begin to read in Israel this coming Shabbat:
In a small town there were only ten Jewish families and, among them, there were only ten Jewish men. Each day they all came to pray so that there would be a minyan. Because of this important commitment, even if someone felt tired or weak, he would compel himself to come and pray nevertheless. Each man felt that everything depended on him.
One day there was a huge celebration: A new Jewish family had come to live in the town! Yet the following morning, no one came to pray. Each man felt a little less responsibility, thinking that the rest of the men would make a minyan without him, and therefore excused himself from his previous commitment.
This week's Torah portion in Israel, parashat Bamidbar, opens with a comprehensive census in which the entire public is counted and every individual, every family, and every tribe is given a role and a higher calling. The message is that even within large groups, or even within an entire nation, each individual has a special place and a unique mission. Each person is important. And today, just as in that small town, each of us must internalize the awareness that it is impossible to function as a whole if even one part is missing.