E-TORAH
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The Torah portion of Vayeilech teaches us about the commandment of Hakhel: During the times of the Holy Temple, the Jewish People made a pilgrimage to Jerusalem every seventh year to hear the king read the Torah aloud, "that they may hear and that they may learn and fear G‑d."
At that time, the kohanim, or priests, surrounded the city of Jerusalem. With golden trumpets they signaled that it was time for everyone to assemble at the Holy Temple. In fact, this musical alarm was so important that, "any kohen who did not have a gold trumpet did not seem to be a kohen at all."
This curious comment needs further explanation. To understand what was meant, let us examine what exactly the kohen's job in the Temple was.
The kohanim were responsible for serving in the Temple, and performed many of the tasks associated with the worship there. Sounding the golden trumpets in the outskirts of Jerusalem was, however, only the preparation for the commandment of hakhel, and not part of the mitzva itself. What, then was so important about this, that a kohen who did not participate was not considered a "real" kohen?
One of the most important and central services performed by the kohanim in the Temple was the burning of the ketoret (incense). Maimonides explains that the purpose of the incense was to dispel any offensive odors and make the Temple smell pleasant.
As with all aspects of Torah, this is understood on many different levels. It is explained in the Zohar that the kohanim were not merely interested in converting unpleasant smells to pleasant ones; the inner purpose of the ketoret was to dispel the foulness of the Evil Inclination.
The ketoret was composed of various inedible substances, among them chelb'na (galbanum), a particularly foul-smelling resin. The Talmud teaches that this ingredient symbolized all that was lowly and inferior. The task of the kohanim was to take the lowly and mundane and utilize it in the service of G‑d. Their job was to elevate even the most mundane aspects of life and infuse the physical world with holiness.
This fundamental service of the kohanim found its most emphatic expression in the preparation for the commandment of hakhel. For seven long years prior to this day, the kohanim had been busy in the Temple elevating the physical world. Now it was their turn to elevate the entire Jewish People to a higher spiritual level.
To a certain extent, this was the "test" which determined a kohen's mettle. If he took his G‑d-given task to heart, he would run to assemble his fellow Jews, and thereby prove that he was of priestly stock. If, however, he lazily remained at home, he "did not seem to be a kohen at all."
In a broader sense, every single Jew is also a kohen, as it states, "And you shall be a nation of kohanim (priests)." It is every Jew's task in life to go out into the world and "sound the trumpet," arousing his fellow Jews to reach spiritually higher and higher.
Adapted from the works of the Lubavitcher Rebbe
by Rabbi Tuvia Bolton
Evening was falling. In another few minutes Yom Kippur, the holiest day of the year, would begin. The large room was filled to capacity.
But a strange, unearthly silence filled the synagogue. The year was 1945, just after the war. The place was a refugee camp somewhere in Germany. Jews fresh out of concentration camps had gathered in a barracks-turned-synagogue to pray.
The unanimously chosen rabbi of this unique congregation was none other than the famous Klausenberger Rebbe. His holiness and erudition were unquestionable, but even more amazing, he had retained his sanity and saintliness after loosing his wife and 11 children in the Holocaust.
The congregation was composed of all Jews of all persuasions, from ultra-Orthodox to those that had never been in a synagogue before. But one thing they all had in common; they had all experienced living hell.
The cantor began singing and the congregation followed. There was much genuine weeping that night. But a special cry went up when the services reached the confessional prayer known as "Al Chait." In this prayer, recited numerous times throughout Yom Kippur, we request forgiveness from G‑d for the sins we did with our eyes, with our hands, with our heart, for sins performed through brazenness, through callousness, through spitefulness.
In the midst of the prayer, one of the congregants stood up and stamped his foot. "No!!" He screamed.
Everyone turned and looked at him. One or two tried to gently calm him down. "No!" he looked at them and yelled.
"What? I should ask forgiveness of G‑d for sins I did with my eyes or my hands? These eyes saw my own children killed! These hands had no time to sin, they had to work for those German devils day and night! What? I was brazen?! I didn't dare lift my head for three years! I was callous? I gave my last piece of bread to people I didn't know!
"No, no! If anyone has to ask for forgiveness, it is G‑d Himself. That's right. G‑d should ask me for forgiveness. He gave the Nazis eyes to see and hands to torture, and brazenness and callousness to maim and murder. So let Him ask forgiveness from us!"
The entire congregation was silent. All eyes, filled with tears, turned to the Klausenberger Rebbe. What would he say?
After several moments of heavy silence, the Rebbe cleared his throat and said, "You...are...right."
Everyone burst out in uncontrollable weeping. Men fell to their knees, and others just put their faces in their hands and wept and wept and wept.
After the crying had subsided and the room fell quiet once again, the Rebbe continued where he had left off.
"But I want to tell you why I asked G‑d for forgiveness. In our camp the guards used to amuse themselves every morning by playing a sadistic game. They would line us up and pick five inmates. These unfortunate souls would be forced to carry a load of bricks up a steep flight of stairs in front of everyone. If one brick would fall, they would add another two in its place, and if the prisoner himself fell, they would slowly torture him to death before our eyes.
"So it was every morning. True, the rest of the day wasn't much better. It was unbearably cold, our clothes were infested with lice, and we were given almost nothing to eat. Everyone was sick, and prisoners were dying like flies. But the worst and most humiliating was that morning ordeal.
"It got to the point that the prayer each of us said before we went to sleep was, 'G‑d, merciful G‑d, please let me die in my sleep. Please don't let me wake up tomorrow morning.' And I used to say it also.
"That is what I ask forgiveness for. It never even entered my mind to ask G‑d to set me free! I forgot that there could be such a thing as being free!"
The congregation was silent for several moments. And then, the cantor resumed the prayers.
From www.ohrtmimim.org
Have A Wonderful Shabbos!!