In this week’s Torah portion, we read a number of large, challenging, important events: like the petition of the daughters of Zelophad for a share in their father’s land, the gifting of Pinchas, a zealot who just murdered two people, with a covenant of peace and the succession of Moses and the discovery of his fate. But instead of looking at these passages, I would like us to consider the first in the list of sacrifices enumerated in the portion: the tamid.
The tamid sacrifice was offered twice daily: in the morning and the afternoon. It was the first offering and the last offering of the day. Nothing came before it, and nothing after it. This week I read a surprising passage about this offering. It came from Aharon Loschak in his commentary on the portion, “The Daily Grind and the Daily Lamb.” He brings a debate between a group of rabbis trying to answer the question: “Which is the most encompassing verse in the Torah?”
Ben Zoma says: “Shema,” Ben Nanas says: “Love your neighbour as yourself” Shimon ben Pazi says: “the first lamb you shall sacrifice in the morning and the second lamb you shall sacrifice in the afternoon.” Rabbi Ploni then stands and says: the one who is correct is Ben Pazzi.
Surprised? Me too. One would imagine that the Shema, the golden rule, two foundational, important teachings of the Torah would be the answer, but instead a twice daily sacrifice is the most encompassing teaching. Why would this be?
The rabbis teach it is the consistency, the importance and significance of a practice which is daily. It is routine, part of life, to stop, pause and give an offering, not because great, remarkable moments are happening, but because it is the everyday. We are taught to say 100 blessings a day. That is 100 opportunities to be mindful, to pause and give thanks for the moments we may otherwise walk past. The twice daily sacrifice reminds us that we cannot live always in the awe, the highs, the moments of elevation and bliss. We live in the everyday grind, and down here in the muck and the messiness of our existence we can forget the blessings of these days as well.
I have spoken about the concept of glimmers: little bursts of joy which can happen even in the darkest of days. They may be as simple as a hug, a steaming mug of tea, a flower bursting through the earth, the smell of toast. Everyday there is something no matter how small, which can remind us of the beauty which surrounds us. Our system of blessings provides that for each of us, and that is the purpose of the tamid sacrifice: in amongst all the other special offerings for the day guilt offerings, thanksgiving offerings, restitution offerings, there are two which happen every single day for no special reason. It is for us to discover our reason for that day.
In our portion, Moses is looking back on his life, contemplating his death and considering the future of the people without him. I am certain he was wondering what was important, what he had achieved, what he would miss. And I imagine it was the everyday, not the grand moments of journeying up the mountain, the split seas, but rather being with the people, watching a sunrise, enjoying a moment of peace in the frenetic pace of the day.
So even though we no longer offer sacrifices, we do have the opportunity, in the morning and the evening to notice something special that day: to be grateful for a glimmer.
Shabbat Shalom
Rabbi Jacqueline Ninio