By Rabbi Ariel J Friedlander

Are you feeling overwhelmed? I am! From pontiffs to presidents to particular prejudices, the constant flow of data from the world around me is coming at my eyes and ears too quickly to process properly. What counts? How does it add up? What has merit? On what may we depend? And, how should we respond?

Although the forms in which we receive and process information nowadays may be via a more advanced technology, it is not an original sensation to feel weighed down by the responsibility of making the most ethical choices. Judaism is a religion of action. It is important to consider the possibilities and their potential paths, but ultimately it is what we do that counts. This week’s Torah portion offers us some theory, and practice.

Emor begins with God giving Moses a list of rules for the priests – how they should comport themselves personally, and in their role as priests. The focus here is on purity, i.e., who and what are impure. God defines this precisely, telling Aaron:

“No man of your offspring throughout the ages who has a defect shall be qualified to offer the food of his God.”

One might understand this as teaching that the quality of the offering brought to God depends on the quality of the person that brings it. But the text speaks of ‘defect’, and defines it immediately:

“No one at all who has a defect shall be qualified: no man who is blind, or lame, or has a limb too short or too long; no man who has a broken leg or a broken arm; or who is a hunchback, or a dwarf, or who has a growth in his eye, or who has a boil-scar, or scurvy, or crushed testes.”[1]

In the 21^st century, we may see this as a dreadful thing to say. However, we are judging from our perspective, not theirs. Anyway, since there are no more priests, and people with disabilities now win Strictly Come Dancing, surely we can regard this passage as a memory of how things used to be. We know better now. Don’t we?

Rabbi Lauren Tuchman wrote regarding Emor that the giants on whose shoulders we stand have wrestled boldly with Torah that is painful or exclusionary. They have had the honesty and integrity to offer new understandings that unapologetically assert acceptance of those with disabilities, as well as other minorities previously ritually rejected. She reminds us that we cannot allow our sacred texts to continue to be used as weapons of exclusion.[2]

The theories have changed. What about the praxis? How then may we read and respond to this portion in a contemporary context? Through its concluding verses about the fate of a blasphemer, Emor shows us that, even though we may have no power over the behaviour of others, we must take responsibility for our own. Before being executed by the community leaders, the witnesses of the blasphemer’s crime are commanded to lay their hands upon his head. Although Rashi teaches that this lays the blame squarely on the blasphemer[3], at the same time it is an acknowledgement that the witnesses took some part in the process. Had any of them intervened at an earlier point in time, could they have made a positive difference?

Even then, how might one know what that positive difference could be? Emor also has a response to this question. It appears in the form of a calendar for the major festivals, which includes basic instructions for what to do on those set days [4]. Rashi teaches that the practice of these regulations leads to an understanding [5]. Follow the mitzvot, i.e., live an ethical life, and improve the quality of the person that brings offerings to God, and thence the quality of all our relationships in this world.

Yet today, I am still overwhelmed. There is so much noise in the world, and I’m having trouble focusing. What can I do? This year, I have found an answer from the calendar in Emor, through a mitzvah commanded between Pesach and Shavuot:

“And from the day on which you bring the sheaf of elevation offering … you shall count off seven weeks.”[6]

The Children of Israel are currently on a journey from Egypt to Sinai, from slavery to redemption. We are to count the days of that journey, the days of the Omer, step by step, one day at a time. It is a short and simple commandment: you say the blessing for counting, and then you count that single day. This I can do. A mitzvah done. A step taken. And it counts!

We can only start from where we are, but we must start. Perhaps, instead of minimising what we could do by measuring it against an ideal, if we focus on what we actually do, we will begin to understand that all of us have imperfections, yet everybody counts!

• A great way to live up to the theme of Rabbi Ariel’s Thought for the Week and show your commitment is to register to vote in the World Zionist Congress elections and then vote for the Our Israel (Liberal/Reform/Masorti) slate. Click here to register, it requires ID and a token £1 fee.

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[1] Leviticus 21: 17-20

[2] Rabbi Lauren Tuchman, JTS Torah Commentary on Emor, 4^th May 2023

[3] “They said to him: your blood is upon your head; we do not deserve punishment on account of your death, for it was you yourself who brought it about”, Rashi on Lev. 24:14

[4] “Mo-adei Adonai, My (God’s) fixed times”, Leviticus 23:2

[5] “This means, Regulate the festive seasons in such a manner that all Israel should become practised in them (their observance)”, Rashi on Lev. 23:2.

[6] Leviticus 23:15

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