OzTorah

The title of the sidra is Emor – “Talk”.

People talk all the time. They talk too much in fact.

Loose tongues are such a danger. Not just when the tongue says nasty things. We know that’s not allowed, since the Psalmist says, “Keep your tongue from evil, and your lips from speaking guile” (Ps. 34:14), a sentence that comes in the concluding prayer of every Amidah.

But what tends to happen when someone simply can’t stop talking is that the talk becomes nothing more than background noise and the words mean nothing.

So much can be done in a constructive way with “a word fitly spoken” which, according to King Solomon in the Book of Proverbs, is “like apples of gold in settings of silver” (Prov. 25:11).

Just as a person should be careful about where they spend their money, so they should watch their words and not be over-garrulous. Using too many words is a waste of the capacity of speech.

The best advice is, if you have something useful to say, speak up – or otherwise remain silent.

Remember the old saying, “When I kept silent they thought I might be a fool. When I spoke they knew I was.”

Parashat Emor calls the festivals mikra’ei kodesh, usually rendered “holy convocations”.

Mikra is from kara, “to call”; “convocation” is from Latin and means “to call together or assemble”.

Kara also means “to happen”. An example is Lev. 1:1 when, according to the sages, Moses denied that God deliberately appointed or called him; the communication just happened.

In this sense, mikra’ei kodesh are sacred times (Targum Onkelos’ translation) marking events which occurred as the Israelites traversed the wilderness.

Had certain things not happened during the years in the wilderness, the festivals would not have come into existence. This explains historical events like Pesach, Shavu’ot and Sukkot, but not Rosh HaShanah or Yom Kippur, yet they too are mikra’ei kodesh.

Maybe we can posit this theory: God told the people to respond to historical events by means of annual celebrations; they did so with such enthusiasm that He gave them two non-historical occasions (Yom Kippur has a possible historical connection) on which to look into their own souls and not just commemorate events.

Q. Why does a bridegroom lift and then replace his bride’s veil prior to the wedding ceremony?

A. The bride’s relatives usually make a joke about it.

The bride is ready to come under the chuppah, but she has to sit and wait for her bridegroom to come towards her, lift and replace her veil, and assure the rabbi and everyone else that it really is the right girl.

The chattering relatives are likely to wonder what a quaint, outlandish custom this is. The right girl? After all those weeks or months of frantic activity, with all the effort to find a hall, a band and a caterer?

With the honeymoon booked and the new apartment full of wedding presents, now someone starts talking about the right girl or not the right girl?

Enough already of the funny business! Let’s get on with the ceremony, for heaven’s sake!

What are we talking about?

The traditional bedecken ceremony, which owes its rise to the verse in the Torah about Rebekah’s family blessing her and saying, achotenu, at heyeh l’alfei r’vavah, literally, “Our sister, be the mother of thousands of ten thousands” (Gen. 24:60), followed shortly afterwards by Rebekah seeing her bridegroom and covering herself because of modesty (verse 65).

The blessing given to Rebekah does not simply say, “Have many children,” but implies, “Fulfil your destiny as the mother of a great nation” (Samson Raphael Hirsch).

Bedecken is no joke, but a serious moment when the groom acknowledges that this is the woman with whose life his is henceforth to be intertwined and whom he will partner in building a future and a destiny.

Why does all this go with the placing of the bride’s veil?

To emphasise the sanctity of the moment, the privacy of the bond between husband and wife and the uniqueness of their relationship.

A wedding is conducted publicly, but a marriage is lived privately. The couple are part of their respective families, but from now on their inner world is each other and in due course their own children.

Come with me on a search for the origins of Lag Ba’Omer and check through the Bible, the Mishnah, the Gemara, and even the works of the medieval Ge’onim.

What do you find?

Nothing. Not a trace of the festival.

I know that tradition records that Rabbi Akiva’s vast numbers of students, fighting against the Romans, were smitten by a plague (Talmud Yevamot 61b) that lifted on this day.

But the institution of Lag Ba’Omer as an official holyday took time to emerge.

Not until the 13th century is there a literary source, when the Sefer HaManhig (91b) reports a saying of Ibn Yar’chi that the ban on marriages during the Omer is relaxed on and from the 33rd day of the S’firah.

One explanation may be that as the weeks of the Omer proceeded, their severe impact waned and custom took account of what people were doing.

Whether this is the truth or not, it indicates that the people had an effect on the development of the observances of Judaism. Another example is of course Simchat Torah.

This could be a plea to congregants and visitors not to bring mobile phones to shule.

Not only does it break the laws of Shabbat, but can’t you live without your mobile? Are you afraid that the world will come to an end if you can’t remain in touch?

As I say, this could have been a plea to leave mobiles at home. But that is not quite the point I want to make.

Instead I want to comment on a verse in the sidra. “With this shall Aaron come into the sanctuary,” says the Torah (Lev. 16:3).

The Hebrew b’zot – “with this” – has an interesting g’matria; the letters zot add up to 408, which in turn is the total of three other words, tzom, kol, mamon – “fasting, prayer and charity”, each of which adds up to 136.

Those who worked this out had a message for the people of Aaron in every generation, that what they should bring to the sanctuary was a sincere, repentant and generous heart (not a word about mobile phones!).

Very interesting. You cannot come to shule empty-handed.

But it is not material things you should bring. What you should bring is genuine spiritual preparation.

“Prepare to meet your God, O Israel,” says Amos (4:12). Every special occasion requires preparation – Shabbat, Pesach, Rosh HaShanah, Bar-Mitzvah, marriage, death… and so does prayer.

The Psalmist asks (Psalm 24), “Who may ascend the mountain of the Lord and who may stand in His holy place? He that has clean hands and a pure heart, who has not set his desire upon vanity or sworn deceitfully”.

But what do you do if you have a mountain of mistakes on your back and are not sure God will accept your prayers?

Pray… that you may be able to pray, and that God may hearken to and help you.