"And He called to Moses, and the Lord spoke to him from the Tent of Meeting, saying: Speak to the children of Israel and say to them: When any man among you brings an offering to the Lord, you shall bring your offering from cattle, from the herd or from the flock."
We have just completed four weekly portions, filled with the construction of the Tabernacle and its vessels, and the preparation of this mighty structure through which the man of God would speak with the Creator of the Universe. Through it, a person would offer a sacrifice and draw near to God. Likewise, the entire nation of Israel would draw near to the Almighty through communal offerings, as well as individual ones.
On the first of the Hebrew month of Nissan, the Tabernacle was inaugurated. The Divine Presence descended from above and drew close tothe people of Israel, fulfilling the will of Hashem: “And I will dwell among them" - within each and every member of the nation.
King David says: “And as for me, the closeness of God is my good" (Psalms 73:28). His true meaning was 'I possess true existence, for through closeness to God I find goodness and happiness (as explained by the Malbim)'. David achieved personal fulfillment, yet the ultimate closeness to God through the Temple was only realized by his son, Solomon. When Solomon built the Temple, the service of the priests was organized into divisions - priestly and Levitical watches. They were divided into twenty-four shifts, each serving for one week at a time, rotating so that every group served twice a year.
Since the Temple sacrifices included communal offerings belonging to the entire nation - and since a sacrifice could not be offered without representation of its owners - the people of Israel were also divided into twenty-four rotations corresponding to the priestly divisions. Each week, representatives of the assigned rotation would ascend to Jerusalem to stand alongside the priests during the service. Those who remained in their cities would gather in synagogues, fasting and praying that the offerings of Israel would be accepted favorably.
As in the days of David, so too in our time, the Jewish people are unable to offer sacrifices. “And if your offering be a meal offering baked in the oven…" (Leviticus 2:7). Neither individuals nor the community can bring offerings - not even a simple meal offering. Yet the stirrings of the heart burn like glowing coals. There is a deep yearning for the moment when the Temple will be rebuilt and the direct, ultimate connection between the Jewish people and their Creator will be restored - between the individual and God, between the Temple below and the Temple above, between Jerusalem below and Jerusalem above.
In the meantime, Israel sings every Shabbat the psalm of King David describing this wondrous connection - Psalm 23, “A Psalm of David."
This psalm begins in the third person: “The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He makes me lie down in green pastures…" However, when David encounters hardship, his sense of closeness intensifies. It is in darkness - like the tunnels of Gaza - that the heart’s yearning for God grows stronger, culminating in the declaration: “I have chosen the way of faith."
At that point, David shifts to the second person: “Even when I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for You are with me…" The author of Meshech Chochmah, Rabbi Meir Simcha, explains this grammatical shift. In times of prosperity (expressed in the third person), when one dwells in “green pastures" and “still waters," a person may feel distant from God. He acknowledges divine governance, but perceives it as indirect - through nature or intermediaries. Thus, God is spoken of in a concealed manner.
In times of distress, however, everything changes. In the “valley of the shadow of death," when darkness prevails and worldly supports vanish, one suddenly feels God’s immediate presence. Indirect speech gives way to direct address: “for You are with me."
It is through hardship - through “Your rod and Your staff" - that a person attains an unmediated closeness to God, a recognition that He is present, something not always experienced in times of abundance.
After the destruction of the Temple, it became forbidden - according to most opinions - to offer sacrifices. This is a temporary cessation until we merit the rebuilding of the Temple. In the meantime, Israel approaches their Father in Heaven as the prophet Hosea teaches: “We will offer the words of our lips instead of bulls." We recite the portions of the sacrifices as the first part of the morning services.
The Gemara in Menachot (101a) states in the name of Rabbi Yochanan that Torah scholars who engage in the laws of the Temple service are considered as if the Temple were built in their days. Reish Lakish adds that one who studies these laws is considered as if he actually offered all types of sacrifices. Rava goes further, stating that such a person has no need to bring offerings at all.
This explains why, at the conclusion of the recitation of the prayers regarding the sacrifices, we say: “May it be Your will…" - combining both the hope for the rebuilding of the Temple and the request for a portion in Torah: “May the Temple be rebuilt speedily in our days, and grant us a portion in Your Torah."
The recitation of the sacrifices originates in the profound dialogue between God and Abraham, as well as in the institution of the rotations. The Gemara in Ta’anit and Megillah teaches that were it not for the rotations, heaven and earth would not endure. Abraham asked: “How shall I know that I will inherit the land?" and also expressed concern that Israel might sin and face destruction like earlier generations. God responded by establishing the sacrificial order - and assured him that when Israel recites these passages, it is as if they have offered the sacrifices, and He forgives them.
This practice is ancient, already found in the era of the Geonim, in the prayer books of Rav Amram Gaon and Rav Saadya Gaon. The Rambam codifies this in Hilchot Tefillah (7:8), listing the various passages to be recited daily. Likewise, the Shulchan Aruch begins Orach Chaim with this directive.
Regarding the special significance of the incense, Maran HaRav Kook writes in Olat Re’iyah that the incense represents the spiritual essence of existence, elevating all creation to its divine source. Smell, the most spiritual of the senses, connects to the soul. The incense unifies all forces - even those that appear contradictory - and elevates them to holiness.
The Mishnah Berurah (Orach Chaim 1:18) emphasizes that the incense is a great omen for wealth and protection, citing the Zohar that it nullifies harsh judgments and plagues. The severe consequence for omitting even one ingredient reflects the importance of unity - each spice represents a segment of Israel. Excluding one harms the collective unity, even if it is the least prominent, like the galbanum.
This unity is essential for closeness to God. As Rav Kook writes in Orot HaKodesh, the Jewish people are not merely a collection of individuals but a single living entity. Individuals are like limbs of one body. In Orot Yisrael, he explains that separating from the nation is akin to severing oneself from the source of life.
Although King David achieved closeness to God, he did not merit it through sacrificial service. Moses, however, even after the Tabernacle was completed and filled with divine glory, hesitated to enter due to his awe of God. Despite his involvement in constructing the Tabernacle, he waited outside until God called to him: “And He called to Moses…"
Only then was he instructed to teach Israel how to draw near: “When a person brings an offering…" There is no “sacrifice" except in the language of closeness.
This is what the priests are supposed to teach - how a person on earth connects to the One in heaven. The Zohar explains that the phrase “your offering" indicates a transformation: what begins as an offering to God becomes the person’s own offering, expressing unity between above and below.
The Zohar further compares this to a king: when seated on his throne, he is the supreme king; when he descends, he is called a lesser king. Similarly, the small Hebrew letter aleph in “Vayikra", which is always shrunken when written in a Torah scroll, reflects a diminished manifestation of divine revelation outside the Land of Israel, where God’s kingship is not fully revealed.
This profound bond between Israel and God - from below upward - has been expressed not only through the recitation of the sacrifices, but also through the declaration of “Shema Yisrael" by countless martyrs throughout history: from the Marranos of the Inquisition to the Jews who perished in the Holocaust, and to soldiers who give their lives defending the nation.
In the future, this connection will also come from above downward, as prophesied by Jeremiah (chapter 32): an awakening from above, as God gathers His dispersed people:
“Behold, I will gather them… and I will bring them back… They shall be My people, and I will be their God… I will give them one heart… and I will make an everlasting covenant with them…"
Therefore, Jews pray daily for their brethren: “Turn their hearts to You…" Indeed, one can observe the unfolding of these prophecies. As Jeremiah said: “Call to Me, and I will answer you, and show you great and wondrous things…"
As in the days of the Exodus, we witness wonders. The State of Israel declared its foundation upon the vision of the prophets - but today, we are not merely following that vision; we are witnessing its fulfillment - in ingathering, settlement, Torah study, economic growth, and even in the wars of redemption, whose wonders will be told for generations.