By Rabbi Olivier BenHaim, Bet Alef Meditative Synagogue
Our tradition assumes the possibility of four different levels of interpretation to any text, from the literal to the esoteric. One of these levels, the allegorical level, allows us to understand our Biblical stories as universal archetypes relating to the human spiritual journey. The opening verses of this week’s Torah portion, Tzav, lend themselves well to such an interpretation.
The burnt offering shall remain where it is burned upon the altar all night until morning, while the fire on the altar is kept aflame…. The Kohen shall…remove the ashes to which the fire has reduced the burnt offering on the altar and place them next to the altar. He shall then…carry the ashes outside the camp to a pure place. The fire on the altar shall be kept burning, it shall not be extinguished; and the Kohen shall kindle wood upon it every morning. [Lev. 6:2-5]
What if we were to view the burnt offering as representing the waking hours of our days, how we tend to “burn up” our time and energy? If lived mindfully, every day of our lives can become an offering of the best we have to give. Each day lived to the fullest is a day we don’t hold back and share the choicest aspect of our self, regardless of our circumstances; a day we step into the “fire” of life fully and with great gusto. Though not a rabbi himself, G.B. Shaw could very well have been reflecting on these verses when he famously stated: “I want to be thoroughly used up when I die.”
The Lubavitcher Rebbe Menachem M. Schneerson teaches us that “every aspect of the physical Sanctuary has its counterpart in the inward Sanctuary.” That is to say, every aspect of the described outer Tabernacle in Torah represents an aspect of our inner being. For the rebbe, the “[human] heart is the altar.” (Torah studies; Tzav). Our offering, therefore, has to be “burned upon” the heart. The teaching here is that our giving, our actions in the world — to be a pure expression of our True Self — necessarily have to come from the heart space. These kinds of actions cannot be reasoned, premeditated or calculated. They spontaneously arise of their own accord when we are radically present to the moment as it unfolds.
Furthermore, the Torah suggests that as we practice acting from the radically present heart, the shadow of our subconscious and the limitations of our deeply rooted conditioning begin to heal and dissolve. Similar to Jacob wrestling the whole night through with his inner demon, “The burnt offering… is burned… all night,” the illusion of our conditioned self is consumed in the light of awareness burning brightly through our darkest nights. And like Jacob emerging victorious at daybreak, the altar burning continues “until morning;” until the Light of Being eventually outshines our inner darkness.
There is a caveat, however, to this process: We “shall…remove the ashes.” Rabbi Yehuda Leib Alter of Ger writes: “The commandment here to remove the ashes hints that as we burn up the waste in our lives we are uplifted each day, and then we are given new light” (S’fat Emet commentary; Tzav). This “new light” is the opportunity we have to “kindle [new] wood…every morning.” We have to let go of the ashes of our past at the end of each day; to enter into a process of releasing both the good and the bad of what was, whatever keeps us entangled to that past. We are not to deny it; what happened, happened. But as we break free from its hold on us, we carry our past “outside the camp to a pure place,” so it no longer clouds our way, blocking our own evolution.
Days away from Passover, we are about to reenact the ritual of Biur Chametz, committing our chametz to the flame; performing our own burnt offering. What is this chametz in your life ready to be offered up? What is it for you, this year, which has burned so brightly and for so long that it now feels fully consumed, and needs to be let go of? What is your “new wood” of tomorrow yearning to be finally kindled that it might bring new light into your life?
This is the journey that Passover invites us to embark upon; to leave the ashes of our old inner chametz behind, and ignite within us the liberated sparks of a radiant tomorrow.
Chag Pesach Kosher v’Sameach!