As we move from Purim towards Pesach, the rest of this week’s Daily Kavanot will focus on 3 of the special Shabbatot that link these holidays. Some have already passed on the calendar, and some are yet to come.
While we declare each Shabbat morning that Torah will come from Zion, God’s word from Jerusalem, it is apparently possible that a key element of Biblical ritual purification will come from Texas—and be cared for by a retired Indiana farmer. In 2022, 5 red heifers arrived in Israel, and have since been cared for in the settlement of Shiloh. As is almost always the case when Israel proclaims the birth or existence of a red heifer (it happens more than one might think), several have already been disqualified—they do not possess all of the characteristics needed for their spiritual purpose.
This Shabbat, the 3rd of the 4 (or five, depending how you decide) special Shabbatot linking Purim and Passover, brings us Shabbat Parah. Again referring to the special reading for the week—this time from the book of Numbers—the text details the laws of the “Red Heifer” and the process of purification for those rendered ritually impure by contact with a dead body.
According to various Jewish communal surveys, Passover remains the most widely celebrated Jewish holiday in the United States. Even amongst Jews who consider themselves secular and unaffiliated, or disconnected, well over 50% (I seem to recall 72% at some time), report participating in a Passover seder, or marking the holiday in some other way. Perhaps it is nostalgia—the memory of seders past, or perhaps it is hope—the universal themes of redemption and rebirth, but something about Passover keeps calling us back.
Only in ancient times, not everyone could participate in the Passover ritual—and that is where Shabbat Parah comes in. One needed to be ritually pure; if you had come in contact with a dead body (likely not an unusual circumstance in Biblical times), and had not been purified—you could not partake in the Passover sacrifice. And you could not become ritually pure without the ashes of the red heifer. As a Tabernacle—and later Temple—ritual, it does not seem to have much significance for us today, and yet—it remains a part of our liturgical calendar.
Passover is a time of intense preparation; there is cleaning (so much cleaning), and cooking, and more cleaning. And more than that—it is a time of spiritual preparation, a time of reflecting on oppression and freedom, on narrow places and wilderness, on rebirth and redemption and new beginnings. We may not have—or need—the ashes of a red heifer, but we do need the reminder that it is time to get ready. Each and every one of us has an Egypt to leave.
—Rabbi Sari Laufer
P.S. Speaking of new beginnings, we are so thrilled to celebrate our Aaron Milken Center opening THIS SUNDAY!!!