Rabbi's Corner

In this week’s parashah, Parashat Shemini, we find the following: “For I HaShem am your G-d: you shall sanctify yourselves and be holy, for I am holy…For I Hashem am He Who brought you up from the Land of Egypt to be your G-d: you shall be holy, for I am holy.  These are the laws/teachings concerning animals, birds, all living creatures that move in water, and all creatures that swarm on earth, for distinguishing between the unclean and the clean, between the living things that may be eaten and the living things that may not be eaten.” (VaYikra 11:45-47) This week’s Torah portion contains an elaborate description of those foods which are permitted and those which are not permitted for us to consume.  Our Tradition teaches that this physical need to eat food includes not only what we eat but how we eat as well as how much we eat.  Rebbe Nachman of Breslov explains that one’s intellect is reflected in one’s countenance (Likutei Moharan, I:60).  When we possess true wisdom (i.e.- Torah), our face becomes illuminated.  (Note: The Torah tell us that Moshe’s face was illuminated each time he left the Mishkan (Wilderness Tabernacle) having spoken with Hashem.) But when a person overeats, teaches Rebbe Nachman, the human aura (illumination) disappears along with the accompanying intellectual and spiritual acumen, and the person becomes like an animal.  How can this be?  Perhaps the following Chasidic parable will help to explain:

The King badly needed a court musician to replace his former court musician who had retired.  The King, together with the Minister of Music, interviewed and auditioned seventy of the kingdom’s best musicians.  One particular musician outshined the rest. His name was Lear.  The king awarded him with the prestigious position.  Lear’s tenor voice had the sweetness of citrus grove honey.  Not only could he sing using a variety of genres, but he could play the violin as well.  He could make his violin laugh or cry as if it had its own soul.  When Lear’s voice tired or when he needed a rest from playing the violin, his music did not stop.  He would pick up his flute and play melodies so divine that the King would literally swoon in delight.

“As long as you play your music with all of your heart,” the King said, “I will allow you the run of the palace.  You may eat and drink whatever you like, and you may enjoy all the palace amenities.  I want you to be happy, for your happiness will be reflected in the quality of your music.  However, do not forget your duties as Court Musician.  They are your first and foremost priority!”  As time passed, Lear’s singing and fiddling and fluting became less and less exciting and inspiring.  He began to anticipate mealtime more he would anticipate entertaining the King.  Rather than eating and drinking in order to play energetically for the King, Lear began eating and drinking for the sake of his ever-expanding waistline.  His visits to the royal brewery became more and more frequent.  Thus, it came to be that the more Lear consumed, the greater his appetite increased to the point that his belly ruled his brain.

Once, before a concert, Lear had drunk too much of the King’s rich black ale, the result being that he felt very sluggish.  He could barely life up his violin bow.  “This is no problem,” Lear thought to himself, “I shall sing to the King.”  But the excess of beef and beer had taken their toll on him.  Just as he attempted to make his voice ascend an octave, he belched with all the forcefulness and sound of a devastating thunderclap.  Disgusted, the King not only banished Lear from the palace, he sent him into a lengthy exile from the kingdom to atone for his wrongdoing.  To this day, the remorseful Lear longs for the day when he will be able to return to the palace and play his music for the King just as he had done previously.

In this Chasidic parable, the King is Hashem.  Lear is like the Jew who is a committed to prayer and Torah learning, for like Lear whose music brought indescribably joy to the King, a Jew’s learning of and devotion to Torah is music to Hashem.  When a Jew eats and drinks in order to have the energy to serve Hashem, he becomes a vessel of holiness.  But when he eats and drinks solely for the sake of his own bodily pleasures, he becomes a “beheima” (a beast of the field).  We must never forget that it is our “neshama” which distinguishes us from animals.  And it is because we have been created “b’Tzelem Elohim” (“in the Image of G-d”) that we must never allow our “neshama” to lose its holy countenance.  We must do all that must be done in order to “shine on” as a light unto the nations.  For that is our sacred task; that is our mission as assigned to us by Hashem.