What does it mean to serve God? Often, when we think of religious people, we think of those who have a zealous attachment to God, a strong sense of what God wants from them and from humanity. Unfortunately, their energy and devotion can sometimes translate into imposing their preferences on the rest of the world, as though their religious passion is the only possible measure of right and wrong. Matters a few define as “spiritual”, or issues of death and afterlife, rise high on their agendas, and force their way into public discourse intrusively and excessively.
In the face of the television preachers, in the black and white of those who claim a monopoly on religious truth, there is little room left for dissent, for options, or for discussion. Particularly because the poor object of this religious passion faces constant reminding that God’s authority (as understood by the passionate representative of whatever religious faith) is 100% on a particular side.
Judaism, alas, has its share of zealots—in every denomination and every part of the world. Each understands the Torah as their own monopoly; the inheritance of every Jew, yes, but properly understood and implemented only by themselves and their ideological partners. And there is a certain self-fulfilling logic to their claim: if God does speak only through them, if the choice is between God’s way and human whim, there is little room for legitimate dissent.
Today’s Torah portion offers an interesting corrective to that pious monopoly. We often think of the Levites in the Mishkan (Tabernacle) as authorized by God alone. After all, they serve in God’s Temple and at God’s behest. Or do they?
The Torah relays God’s commandment to “Bring the Levites to the front of the Ohel Mo’ed (Tent of Meeting) and assemble the entire Israelite community. Present the Levites before God, and have the Israelites lay their hands (sam’khu) on the Levites.”
It’s easy to understand why we are to present the Levites before God, after all, they are about to be inducted into the service of God, to perform the sacrifices in our stead. But why would the Israelites place their hands on the Levites? What’s going on here?
Traditional commentators offer great insight on this perplexing passage. According to Lekah Tov, a medieval midrash, the verb samakh, from which the term “lay on hands” comes, means to “ordain”. So what the Israelites are doing is ordaining the Levites. Rashi, (11th Century France) offers another perspective. The Israelites gather that “since the Levites were made a sacrifice of atonement in their stead,” the Levites functioned as an offering themselves, offered to God by the Jewish people. As the modern scholar, Baruch Levine, writes: “Because the Levites constituted a veritable offering to God, it was appropriate to assign them to Tabernacle service by means of the laying on of hands.” As the sacrifice of the people, they were brought by the people. In short, the authority for the Levites to function as religious leaders (or as representatives of the entire people) comes not only from God, but must come from the people as well!
As Maimonides understood so well, “No opinions retain their vitality except those which are confirmed, publicized, and by certain actions constantly revived among the people.”
Religious leaders and religious traditions do not just embody the will of God alone, unmediated by human effort and human vision. Instead, God speaks to us through human voices—inspired, wise, and pious—but human nonetheless. And those human beings who speak to us of God’s will and God’s ways derive their authority to speak in that manner both from the God they serve and from the community the represent.
God and the people, together, form the source of religious authority. God is never fully grasped by any human individual (it was the great medieval philosopher, Rabbi Joseph Albo, who observed, “If I knew God, I would be God.” Because different Jews read and respond to their Torah and to rabbinic traditions in different ways, it is fitting that there will be different legitimate ways to translate the words of our sacred traditions into living communities.
Our challenge, then, is to see in the vibrant ways of understanding Judaism, the majesty of a God who cannot be confined by any single reading of our ancient traditions.
The Torah belongs to us all.