From Sacrifice to Prayer: The Essence of True Giving

From Sacrifice to Prayer: The Essence of True Giving
Cantor Dan Mutlu

There’s something about giving a gift that changes you. I don’t mean a gift card, or picking something from someone’s registry–those are great, don’t get me wrong–but a real gift that takes time, thought, and effort. A gift that you putyourself into, along with a deep hope that the person receiving it will be changed as well when it’s given to them.

I remember making such a gift for my father when I was a kid. It seems really silly now, but it was just an elaborate frame around a not so particularly flattering picture of my dad. I worked for hours and hours on the design of that frame, meticulously drawing every little detail. But what I remember far more than what the picture and frame looked like when I was done with it, was the intent with which I worked on the gift. The whole time making it, I so wanted my father to love the crude art I was creating. And when I finally gave it to him, I felt like I was giving away a part of myself too.

Whenever I read about the sacrifices and offerings that the priests brought to the temple for God, how precise every item had to be, and the detail with which the ritual was carried out to “give” the gift to God, I think about that frame I made for my father. This was the tangible thing that the people could give to God. A gift that not only was exactly what their sacred text prescribed, but one that changed them when it was given. Whether it was to atone for their sins, to express their devotion or thanksgiving, or to pray for peace; all of these sacrifices aimed to change the state of the person doing the offering. But you see, the changing could only occur, and holiness could only be present, if all of the steps toward the giving were faithfully followed, and if the one offering put their whole self and focus toward the sacrifice.

In our Torah portion this week, parshat Pinchas, we read about just how important these sacrifices were to God. In Numbers 28:1-2 it says:

Adonai spoke to Moses, saying: Command the children of Israel and say to them: My offering, My food for My fire offerings, a sprit of satisfaction for Me, you shall take care to offer to Me at its appointed time.

It’s clear that the people hoped with all of their hearts that these offerings would be received by God in the spirit with which they were given. The text then goes on to list the numerous daily offerings, as well as the additional offerings brought on Shabbat, the first of the month, as well as the major holidays.

It should not be surprising then to learn that nothing was as existentially shattering to Judaism as when the 2nd Temple was destroyed nearly 2000 years ago. The people’s only way of communicating with God and living a spiritual life vanished. It’s a miracle that our people didn’t vanish along with it.

We have also learned that prayer quickly replaced the sacrificial offerings of the temple, as a way to keep our lines of communication with God open but also as a way to continue to change ourselves. What is most fascinating though, is that the prayers that replaced the physical offerings were often composed of the very words describing the sacrifices themselves.

Think about that. On Shabbat during temple times our Torah instructs us to offer two unblemished lambs in their first year, and two tenths of a bushel of fine flour mixed with oil. But after the destruction of the Temple, these instructions were sung as the centerpiece prayer offering of the day.

These were often the most impassioned prayers sung by cantors of old. And you know I just can’t help myself, so here is an example of that very prayer from this week’s torah portion for the offering on Shabbat.

The Reform movement hastily removed all prayers with references to Temple sacrifices, because the founding rabbis didn’t believe in the rebuilding of a central Temple or a restoration of Temple sacrifices or worship. But I would argue that took things a bit too far and too literally. Don’t we lose something incredible by throwing out these texts and refusing to connect with them? We had already lost our original form of gift giving to God, and these prayers now are the only way to reenact how devoted the people were in giving what they felt God really wanted.

Sure, one could argue that God never really needed or wanted these sacrifices, and so maybe it was meant to be that we don’t have a physical temple anymore to bring them, but that’s still missing the point. It’s all about the power of the gift.

It wasn’t until I had kids of my own that I got to see a reflection of what I tried to do for my parents when making them gifts. When my kids come to me with an offering of love, no matter how silly or unrefined, what is most apparent and powerful for me is the intent and devotion behind the preparation of the gift. It’s an intent that has a power that certainly changes me, and I know changes them too. May we all strive to give of ourselves in such a way that both the giver and receiver are transformed by the spirit of genuine devotion and care.