Making Sense of the Sedra: What is spirituality?

The book of Vayikra is almost entirely legal. Starting with detailed lists and laws of the sacrifices, the book runs through a vast array of legislation covering purity, forbidden relationships, broad societal principles (do not place a stumbling block before the blind; love your friend as yourself; pay wages promptly). It culminates in the framework for Jewish society and land – the laws of Shemitta and Yovel, which govern the resting of the land, freeing slaves, cancelling of debts and returning property to its ancestral owners. The singular story, therefore, that we learn about in this week’s parsha, Shemini, is an invaluable lesson in itself as well teaching us about the book of Vayikra as a whole.

The stage was set: the culmination of many months’ preparation, the dream of a liberated nation coming into physical form in the Mishkan, the portable sanctuary in which God and Man could commune and communicate. The technical details we had spent so many verses learning about – from the intricate clothing of the Kohanim, to the daily order of sacrifices – were at last to be seen in action. After completing their final acts in dedicating the Mishkan, ‘Moshe and Aaron came out, and blessed the people: the glory of God was visible to the entire people. A fire burst forth from before God, and consumed the offering and fats on the alter; the people saw, sung joyously, and bowed on their faces.’

The height of joy, yet it was almost immediately marred. Nadav and Avihu, two sons of Aaron, stepped forth and offered an ‘alien fire’ before God. Shockingly, and in a chilling repetition, another fire comes from before God, but this time it consumed the priests and not the portion. Our Sages explore their motives and the necessity for such a punishment; their unbridled enthusiasm – motivated or enabled by arrogance or ambition – meant they crossed a line and faced the consequences of coming within a hairsbreadth of the Divine.

Tragedy at the height of joy. Aaron, the first Kohen Gadol (the high priest at the centre of the Mishkan) struck with the death of two sons, in public view, for what seems to be an enthusiastic breach of protocol.

‘And Aaron was silent.’ Stoic. Brave. Layers and layers of emotion hidden beneath a steely silence.

We vacillate between our desire for independence and the wish to be so much bigger than we really are. The laws of Vayikra say that a desire for transcendence has a path: the opportunity for mistakes facilitated by the sacrifices, the laws of communal holiness, as well as laws and principles governing the minutiae of relationships between people.

Spirituality is not a feeling, a state of mind or a sense of euphoria. It does not come from connection to a guru or from an induced elevated state. Spirituality comes from the self-sacrifice of living in harmony with the Creator, creation and the created – sincere prayer, hours spent contemplating Divine Wisdom, self-sacrifice for those in need, or a conscious effort to not be defined by past failings.

Aaron’s sons may have felt spiritual, and acted in the heat of the moment, yet this ersatz feeling is nothing compared to the silence of Aaron – the momentary disconnect, disbelief, the gap before processing the enormity of tragedy, coming after his years of dedication to God and Man.