As we continue to read in our weekly Torah readings from the Book of Leviticus – the book of the Holy Temple and the sacrificial service – it is worthwhile to delve into the significance of the sacrificial offerings.

The S'fat Emet – one of the most commonly consulted Hassidic works, written by the Gerrer Rebbe, R. Yehuda Leib Alter, in the second half of the 19th century – cites the Talmudic saying that on the Sabbath, individual sacrificial offerings are not brought (Tr. Temurah 2,11). Why is this? Because, he explains, "on the Sabbath, there is no need for the practical. For on the Sabbath, work is forbidden – and therefore, on Sabbath it is enough that one desires to sacrifice his soul to G-d, and this desire itself is the sacrifice."

That is to say, the virtue of the Sabbath is so great, and we are so close to G-d in our very desires, to the point that there is no need to actually offer up a sacrifice so as to reveal this desire. 

The sacrifices, though they may seem foreign to us, are not simply a relic of the past, from the times of the Beit HaMikdash. Neither are they just an external, physical act of placing a slaughtered animal atop the altar. Rather, their inner meaning is that we thus reveal the "hidden" place in our heart which is exclusively dedicated to G-d. As the S'fat Emet writes: 

"We are commanded to bring the sacrifice in the northern part of the Temple; north in Hebrew is tzafon, from the same root as tzafun, meaning 'hidden.' For the main aspect of the sacrifice is our desire to give our soul to G-d, and this is its hidden aspect [as stated above]. And this is something that we can relate to nowadays as well, in our potential desire to feel completely subjugated to G-d."

Within each Jewish person is hidden a deep point of longing to come close to his or her Father in Heaven. Even regarding a Jew who externally appears to be far removed from the sanctity of Israel, we believe that within him is the desire to truly devote himself to G-d and His glory, and that the time will certainly come when this deep desire will be revealed and expressed. 

We are in the month of Adar, just a few days after Purim, which has a message related to this idea of "bringing to the fore" our true desires. 

Desire to Act!

It is said in the name of the Arizal that each of the 12 months of the year corresponds to one of the 12 Tribes – and that Adar is matched with Naftali. The Torah tells us that Naftali is "a deer running free" (B'reshit 49,21) and "totally satisfied" (D'varim 33,23). The Lekach V'halibuv writes that this shows that Naftali is always in eager action – the opposite of Amalek (Haman's ancestor) who seeks to imbue Israel with despair: "He encountered you along the way [out of Egypt] when you were tired and exhausted" (D'varim 25,18). Amalek came to us in a place called Refidim, from a similar Hebrew root of rifyon, meaning weakness. Tiredness, weakness and despair bring a person to laziness. 

The Lekach V'halibuv continues: "The power of one's will is that which brings him to the attribute of quickness and promptness. Our will is our human force of motivation. Ratzon, desire, is of the same root as ratz, which means 'to run' – for one runs in accordance with his power of will, as the will is that which overcomes weakness."

Special Will on Purim

This "will" is something that we receive and renew on Purim, as the Sages derived from a verse in the Scroll of Esther: Israel received the Torah on Sinai, but not totally voluntarily, and received it a second time – this time willfully – on Purim. Thus, on Purim we are bestowed with a new heart, and we are extra motivated to do the will of our Father in Heaven.

Rabbe Nachman of Breslov writes that although today we don't have sacrifices, we still have the ideal of motivation: One who strives to pray with devotion, one who does not despair because of his failures, but rather works to pick himself up and start again – all this is a type of "sacrifice," of working on our desire to come close to G-d.

Korban – the Hebrew word for "sacrifice" – stems from the same root as kiruv, "coming close." We say in our daily blessings that G-d imbued within us everlasting life – for within every Jew lies a great passion to live a life of truth and faith. There are times that this sense is dormant, but during these days of Purim we have the ability to ignite anew the flame burning within our heart. The joy of Purim gives us the strength to awaken our desire to make a new beginning in Judaism. 

After the Scroll of Esther is read aloud in the synagogue, we recite a passage that features this sentence: "To announce that all those who hope for You will not be shamed, and all those who take shelter in You will never be humiliated." Thus, the message of the Megillah of Esther is: "There is nothing to despair about in the world!" All that's needed is to want to improve, and to desire to do good in G-d's world. We must not make light of even the simple things that we are able to do and accomplish. We must rather believe and know that everything we do, no matter how small, is very significant – as long as we always long for G-d, Rabbe Nachman says.


Translated by Hillel Fendel.