Post by Rabbi Neil on Mar 27, 2020 22:34:15 GMT
There is a scribal oddity in the first word of this week’s Torah portion – Vayikra – which starts the book of Leviticus. In that word, the letter aleph is written small. You’ll find that to be the case in every single Torah scroll around the world. The likelihood is that from some original urtext every scribe copied the small aleph believing it was deliberate, and it just became a thing! Nonetheless, that doesn’t stop Rabbinic commentators from sharing their thoughts on the meaning of the small aleph, and this evening, I will join their ranks.
Rabbi Elyse Goldstein, on the other hand, says that the small aleph teaches us good communication skills. The word Vayikra relates to God calling to Moses, but the small aleph represents God’s contraction so that Moses could also exist in the conversation. God therefore did not call to Moses in a one-sided conversation, God reached out to Moses and started a relationship dialogue.
This idea of God contracting, which I mentioned only recently in a sermon, is quite challenging. For the Kabbalists, God “contracted” God’s perfect essence in order to allow an imperfect world to come into being. The Divine contraction isn’t a physical one, but one of essence that gives permission for the human other to exist. Rabbi Elyse’s commentary takes that Lurianic notion of tzimtzum, Divine contraction, and extends it into the realm of communication. Just as God contracted to allow the world to exist so that God might have a relationship with it, so too even with specific individuals God contracts to give us space to grow.
Rabbi Menachem Nahum of Chernobyl says that the small aleph represents God who makes the Divine self small, as it were, so that God’s holiness can be found everywhere, even in the heart of the most wicked person. For him “in everyone’s heart the Divine spark flickers, already ready to blaze into a flame of repentance.” This is a different use of the concept of tzimtzum, in which God contracts to enter into our small pre-existing space in order that we might later grow. It’s similar but different.
A totally different approach is taken by the Baal HaTurim, who says that Moses didn’t want that specific letter aleph written in the Torah. Without it, the word Vayikra would be read as vayikar, meaning that God just “happened upon” Moses, not that God sought out Moses and called to him specifically. In this interpretation, the contraction is of Moses’ ego, it’s an expression of humility. Of course, Moses could not remove that letter from Torah since, according to the traditional view, it was Divinely dictated to him, but at least he could make it smaller to try to bring that reading to the fore.
Midrash (Leviticus Rabbah) provides a fascinating, albeit deeply particularist, textual comparison regarding this letter from Rabbi Chana bar Chanina. When God calls to Bilaam, the non-Jewish prophet, the verb used is vayikar (Num. 23:16) but it says that when God calls to the prophets of Israel, God is more fully revealed and therefore an aleph, representing God, is added to the word, thus Vayikra. The small aleph is to make that point clear. The problem with this reading, though, is that we don’t need the aleph to be small to make that comparison. Indeed, if anything, that aleph should be bigger than all other letters in the word just to make the point. So, the particularist reading of Midrash on this letter is not an appealing explanation.
There are five instances of the letter aleph being written small in the Bible. There is one instance of the letter aleph being written large – as the first letter of the Book of Chronicles. The comparison between the two is instructive. In Chronicles, the large aleph is in the word Adam, used as a name not as a reference to humanity in general. Why does
Adam deserve a large aleph, but Moses deserve a small aleph? Moses was the reluctant leader, the man who argued with God that he was not suited for a leadership role despite God’s repeated insistence that he was. That’s why almost every comment I can find that relates the little aleph to Moses talks of his humility.
But as he grew into his place as leader of the Jewish community, I believe that he not only became comfortable in the role, but too comfortable, sometimes speaking far beyond what God wanted him to say. Indeed, his zeal was ultimately his undoing as he struck the rock in his self-righteous anger instead of talking to it as God has commended him (Numbers 20). To me, the little aleph in God’s call to Moses isn’t that of God contracting, but a reminder to Moses that he needs to contract. It’s not a reflection of Moses’ humility, but his arrogance, and the need for him to express humility. With Adam, it is the other way round. Adam is ignorant, he knows nothing of the world. He and Eve are easily fooled. He needs a big aleph. He needs encouragement to grow mentally and spiritually. He needs to face the harsh realities of life to develop himself and to become a more real human being. God calls to Moses from the Tent of Meeting with a small aleph as a counterbalance to the fire and thunder around Sinai through which Moses had previously heard God (Exodus 19). God is asking Moses to find God not in the wind, not in the earthquake, not in the fire of Mount Horeb but in the still, small voice (I Kings 19:13). To Adam, a different voice rings out – ayyeka – Where are you? (Gen. 3:9) Where God wishes Moses would contract, God desires that Adam grow.
Our society is one through which a growth mindset is infused. Lack of growth is seen as a negative thing. And yet here we are in the third week of many in which we have been directed to contract. Like Moses, we are given a chance to step back from continual growth, from our arrogance, a chance to quieten down and find that still, small voice, before our arrogance and hubris take us to the point of disaster, if they have not already done so. The little aleph calls to us to slow down, to appreciate our loved ones, to treasure the special moments of connection we have with other people and, indeed, with the world around us. It calls us to stop. It calls us to see every moment of life not as potential for a better future but as a wondrous moment of existence in and of itself. The little aleph in Vayikra leads to the big aleph in Adam. We become great not by continual growth, but by humbling ourselves, quietening ourselves, by contracting ourselves to make genuine space for the other. Sure, there can be flashes of magnitude – the fire and thunder of Sinai – but they don’t last. That is not what makes us great. What makes us great is the realization of how small we are, and how vast is the universe in which we find ourselves.
Finally, I believe we cannot forget that the letter aleph is a pointer to God, known in our tradition as El, which starts with the letter aleph. Aleph is the first, just as God is the first. Aleph is one, just as God is one. We become great by bringing a little of God into everything we do. We become great, to paraphrase Menachem Nachum of Chernobyl, when we maintain that little divine spark within us. Unlike him, I don’t think it needs to ever necessarily blaze as a burning fire, though, it just needs to be the guiding light in everything we do. Just like the Shabbat candles that burn so gently welcome the calmness of this Shabbat, so we quietly bring the Divine light into everything that we do, not with fanfare, not with a big aleph, but with a little aleph that represents that still, small Divine voice.
In the quietness of this Shabbat, let us hear the call of the small aleph, let us open ourselves up to its call to us to slow down, to appreciate life around us, to be thankful for the wondrous gifts in our life. Let us hear its call to separate from the hustle and bustle of our lives in the previous search for the big aleph of Adam. Let us not yearn to always grow, but simply to be, to truly celebrate this Shabbat as a moment of calm contraction so that we can truly concentrate on what is most important to us, and let us say, Amen.
Rabbi Elyse Goldstein, on the other hand, says that the small aleph teaches us good communication skills. The word Vayikra relates to God calling to Moses, but the small aleph represents God’s contraction so that Moses could also exist in the conversation. God therefore did not call to Moses in a one-sided conversation, God reached out to Moses and started a relationship dialogue.
This idea of God contracting, which I mentioned only recently in a sermon, is quite challenging. For the Kabbalists, God “contracted” God’s perfect essence in order to allow an imperfect world to come into being. The Divine contraction isn’t a physical one, but one of essence that gives permission for the human other to exist. Rabbi Elyse’s commentary takes that Lurianic notion of tzimtzum, Divine contraction, and extends it into the realm of communication. Just as God contracted to allow the world to exist so that God might have a relationship with it, so too even with specific individuals God contracts to give us space to grow.
Rabbi Menachem Nahum of Chernobyl says that the small aleph represents God who makes the Divine self small, as it were, so that God’s holiness can be found everywhere, even in the heart of the most wicked person. For him “in everyone’s heart the Divine spark flickers, already ready to blaze into a flame of repentance.” This is a different use of the concept of tzimtzum, in which God contracts to enter into our small pre-existing space in order that we might later grow. It’s similar but different.
A totally different approach is taken by the Baal HaTurim, who says that Moses didn’t want that specific letter aleph written in the Torah. Without it, the word Vayikra would be read as vayikar, meaning that God just “happened upon” Moses, not that God sought out Moses and called to him specifically. In this interpretation, the contraction is of Moses’ ego, it’s an expression of humility. Of course, Moses could not remove that letter from Torah since, according to the traditional view, it was Divinely dictated to him, but at least he could make it smaller to try to bring that reading to the fore.
Midrash (Leviticus Rabbah) provides a fascinating, albeit deeply particularist, textual comparison regarding this letter from Rabbi Chana bar Chanina. When God calls to Bilaam, the non-Jewish prophet, the verb used is vayikar (Num. 23:16) but it says that when God calls to the prophets of Israel, God is more fully revealed and therefore an aleph, representing God, is added to the word, thus Vayikra. The small aleph is to make that point clear. The problem with this reading, though, is that we don’t need the aleph to be small to make that comparison. Indeed, if anything, that aleph should be bigger than all other letters in the word just to make the point. So, the particularist reading of Midrash on this letter is not an appealing explanation.
There are five instances of the letter aleph being written small in the Bible. There is one instance of the letter aleph being written large – as the first letter of the Book of Chronicles. The comparison between the two is instructive. In Chronicles, the large aleph is in the word Adam, used as a name not as a reference to humanity in general. Why does
Adam deserve a large aleph, but Moses deserve a small aleph? Moses was the reluctant leader, the man who argued with God that he was not suited for a leadership role despite God’s repeated insistence that he was. That’s why almost every comment I can find that relates the little aleph to Moses talks of his humility.
But as he grew into his place as leader of the Jewish community, I believe that he not only became comfortable in the role, but too comfortable, sometimes speaking far beyond what God wanted him to say. Indeed, his zeal was ultimately his undoing as he struck the rock in his self-righteous anger instead of talking to it as God has commended him (Numbers 20). To me, the little aleph in God’s call to Moses isn’t that of God contracting, but a reminder to Moses that he needs to contract. It’s not a reflection of Moses’ humility, but his arrogance, and the need for him to express humility. With Adam, it is the other way round. Adam is ignorant, he knows nothing of the world. He and Eve are easily fooled. He needs a big aleph. He needs encouragement to grow mentally and spiritually. He needs to face the harsh realities of life to develop himself and to become a more real human being. God calls to Moses from the Tent of Meeting with a small aleph as a counterbalance to the fire and thunder around Sinai through which Moses had previously heard God (Exodus 19). God is asking Moses to find God not in the wind, not in the earthquake, not in the fire of Mount Horeb but in the still, small voice (I Kings 19:13). To Adam, a different voice rings out – ayyeka – Where are you? (Gen. 3:9) Where God wishes Moses would contract, God desires that Adam grow.
Our society is one through which a growth mindset is infused. Lack of growth is seen as a negative thing. And yet here we are in the third week of many in which we have been directed to contract. Like Moses, we are given a chance to step back from continual growth, from our arrogance, a chance to quieten down and find that still, small voice, before our arrogance and hubris take us to the point of disaster, if they have not already done so. The little aleph calls to us to slow down, to appreciate our loved ones, to treasure the special moments of connection we have with other people and, indeed, with the world around us. It calls us to stop. It calls us to see every moment of life not as potential for a better future but as a wondrous moment of existence in and of itself. The little aleph in Vayikra leads to the big aleph in Adam. We become great not by continual growth, but by humbling ourselves, quietening ourselves, by contracting ourselves to make genuine space for the other. Sure, there can be flashes of magnitude – the fire and thunder of Sinai – but they don’t last. That is not what makes us great. What makes us great is the realization of how small we are, and how vast is the universe in which we find ourselves.
Finally, I believe we cannot forget that the letter aleph is a pointer to God, known in our tradition as El, which starts with the letter aleph. Aleph is the first, just as God is the first. Aleph is one, just as God is one. We become great by bringing a little of God into everything we do. We become great, to paraphrase Menachem Nachum of Chernobyl, when we maintain that little divine spark within us. Unlike him, I don’t think it needs to ever necessarily blaze as a burning fire, though, it just needs to be the guiding light in everything we do. Just like the Shabbat candles that burn so gently welcome the calmness of this Shabbat, so we quietly bring the Divine light into everything that we do, not with fanfare, not with a big aleph, but with a little aleph that represents that still, small Divine voice.
In the quietness of this Shabbat, let us hear the call of the small aleph, let us open ourselves up to its call to us to slow down, to appreciate life around us, to be thankful for the wondrous gifts in our life. Let us hear its call to separate from the hustle and bustle of our lives in the previous search for the big aleph of Adam. Let us not yearn to always grow, but simply to be, to truly celebrate this Shabbat as a moment of calm contraction so that we can truly concentrate on what is most important to us, and let us say, Amen.
