Emor: Don't cut yourself off for fear of mortality

Emor Leviticus 21:1-3

1. And the Lord said to Moses: Speak to the kohanim, the sons of Aaron, and say to them: Let none [of you] make himself tamei for a dead person among his people        
2. except for his relative who is close to him, his mother, his father, his son, his daughter, his brother,        :
3. and for his virgin sister who is close to him, who was not [yet] with a man for her, he shall make himself tamei.


I am at a hospice conference this week, and am once again inspired by the vision that hospice has of facilitating the "sacred space" at the end of life. One large hospice (Hospice of Michigan) uses language about "sacred space" in their mission statement, saying:

• Honor life to the end
• Be witnesses to the spirit of life
• Recognize the sacredness of leaving; honor the feelings of loss
• Ensure patients and families achieve their quality-of-life goals while under our care

At first reading, the instructions in Emor seem to be telling us the opposite - that being around a dead person leads to a state of tamei. And if being around a dead person can make us tamei, then we might "put a fence around the torah" and not want to be around someone who is very close to dying, for fear of being present at the moment of death and thus becoming tamei.

But I think there is a different way to read the text's instruction to us. Instead of meaning "don't go near a dead person (or someone close to being dead), the text can be seen as telling us: "don't make yourself tamei because there is death among the people." If we understand tamei as the state of being closed off (and tahor as the state of being open to the flow of life), then the text is telling us "don't close yourself off from the fact of mortality."  The text is actually saying - "go, be with people near death, help them stay connected, don't let the flow of holiness be cut off. You can go with them up to the edge, don't make yourself cut off from them and from holiness." However, there is an exception for  one's own loved ones and close family. With our own family, we may make ourselves "tamei" - we may close off, retreat, pull back from the flow. The reality of the pain of personal grief is acknowledged, and we are not expected to stay fully connected to holiness in that circumstance. At a time of personal grief, we must rely on others to keep the holy connection present; we cannot do it for ourselves.

Here is an article about a hospice doula program that describes how volunteers help to keep this "flow" of communication, of love, of sacredness, going, even up to the very edge of life.



May we have the strength to stay connected to holiness, even in the face of mortality. And when that mortality comes close enough to touch our own families, may we have the wisdom to retreat, reflect and accept the help of others.

Acharei-Kedoshim

Acharei-Kedoshim Lev. 19:18 "You shall not take vengeance, nor bear any grudge against the children of your people, but you shall love your neighbor as yourself.”

How can and should we respond to evil and callousness in our midst?  The uncle of one of the Boston Marathon suspects pleads, “if you are alive, turn yourself in and ask for forgiveness.”  The West Texas fertilizer plant had last been inspected by OSHA in 1985.  Suffering and evil are real and deeply unsettling. 

May we send blessings of strength to those who seek to protect us and blessings of healing - refuach shlema – to our neighbors in the Boston and West Texas areas who have courageously confronted profound tragedy this week.

Tzav - pleasing fragrance

Parsha Tzav
Leviticus 6:8. "And he shall lift out of it in his fist, from the fine flour of the meal offering and from its oil and all the frankincense that is on the meal offering, and he shall cause its reminder to [go up in] smoke on the altar as a pleasing fragrance to the Lord.”
Leviticus 8:21 "But the innards and the legs, he washed in water, and Moses made the entire ram [go up in] smoke on the altar. It was a burnt offering [with] a pleasing fragrance, a fire offering to the Lord, as the Lord had commanded Moses.”


The sacrifices (the korban – with a Hebrew root implying drawing near) involved all the senses. We can imagine the sound of the live animal, the feel of the blood spattering, the heat of the fire, the site of the animals carcass, In the text, all of these sensations seem to be leading toward the “sweet savour” or “pleasing fragrance” for God. What is it about smell and scent that would call it to be singled out as the main sense making the sacrifice complete?

Smell – it evokes strong emotion. Some smells are so disgusting they can make us retch. Others are so lovely they can make us swoon or feel as though we are in love.  Smells evoke specific memory. And without smell, we cannot taste properly.

Smell is carried through the air, around barriers,  through cracks. A smell is often the first warning of danger – such as smelling the smoke of a fire.

Smell is at once the most individual of senses – infants can distinguish the scent of their mother’s breastmilk from other women’s milk – and the most democratic – you cannot confine a perfume that you might wear to be smelled by just one person in a room. It permeates the whole space.

If our deeds and prayers are the modern sacrifice, how then do we make them a “pleasing fragrance” that elevates them from the mundane to the holy?

They must be very individual– something that we are uniquely suited to do, something that expresses the very essence of ourselves. And we must release them freely into the world. We can’t just target our tzedakah or our prayers to people we know and love. We have to trust that our efforts will reach people in need.  Finally, to be like  a sweet savour, we have to acknowledge that just as taste is not complete  without smell, prayer is not fully realized without kavannah.

May we be blessed to act and pray in ways that uniquely express our true nature so that those actions and prayers are received like the coming fragrances of spring.