This week is the first week of spring. And that means Pesach (Passover) is almost here.

One of the interesting things about Pesach is that we are not allowed to have any leavening in our possession. Leavening is the result of fermented grain and is what makes bread rise.

When I was in the orthodox world of Jerusalem, I heard that chometz (leavening) is symbolic of the ego. After all, aren’t both really just hot air? The idea is that while you search your house for chometz, you are also searching out and removing the ego within you. The end result being that we are left with just our essential being – and this is what matzah is. Matzah is just water and flour, nothing more.

I bring this up because the same idea plays out in this weeks parsha (Torah portion). The parsha is called Tzav which means command, and our parsha begins with haShem (god) telling Moshe (Moses) to command Aharon and his sons regarding the various sacrifices.

In a nutshell, the parsha is about Moshe instructing the priesthood (Aharon and sons) on how to do the various sacrifices: burnt, sin, guilt, peace, oath, and voluntary. Included in these instructions are how to deal with the different animals as well as the grain offerings. The parsha ends with 35 verses detailing aspects of the priestly initiation that Aharon and his sons need to go through.

I confess that a lot is left out of the summary, and it can’t be helped, for I want to keep this short.

One thing that is missing is how the parsha relates to the removing of the ego. So let me fill you in on it.

I mentioned in a previous blog on this parsha that in Judaism, the priesthood’s purpose is to serve the people. A person cannot truly serve another and also have an ego. So, in order to be a cohen (priest), one must first lose their ego. How does this happen?

It starts with the initiation. The priests have to stay in the courtyard of the mishcan (tabernacle) for 7 days. For 7 days they are on display.

Now, at first this might look like it is feeding the ego. That might be true for a day or two. However, after a couple of days, when the initiate is tired of being on display and having no freedom of movement or privacy, I would imagine the ego would take a hike as the experience starts to become and ordeal, and the realization that they no longer have a life except to be of service.

This is not the only place where ego is asked to leave. The cohen gadol (high priest) is required every day of the rest of his life, to cook up a grain offering and put it on the altar.

A grain offering is reserved for those who are too poor to offer up an animal (think about how much a sheep or a goat or a cow costs today). So, to force the cohen gadol to not only offer up, but also cook a grain offering EVERY DAY, would certainly remind him that he is no better than the poorest of the poor.

What does this say to the rest of the priesthood? If the high priest is no better than the poorest of the poor, and they are lower than the high priest, what does that make the rest of them?

Driving out the ego is not just reserved for the priesthood.

These last two parshas have both started with an olah (burnt) offering. This offering is done twice a day, for no apparent reason, and creates a pleasant aroma to haShem. What a weird thing for the Torah to tell us.

This is so weird, it bothered the greatest Torah commentator, Rashi. Rashi lives about 800 years ago in France. His comments on the need for this offering, and the last Chabad rebbe explains Rashi.

What Rashi tells us is that this offering is the ultimate in self-sacrifice. It cannot be brought with an ego because not only can we not understand its purpose, we also get no benefit from it. The only way we can bring it is if we let go of our ego and tell ourselves that we are happy to do whatever god wants of us.

It is because of this willingness on our part, that the offering has a pleasant aroma to haShem.

The only thing I can compare it too is when you love someone and they ask you to do something for them that has no benefit to you. For example, stopping at the store to buy a book that your love is then going to give to a friend of hers that you do not know.

Are you willing to go across town to get the book? I can only imagine a person doing so if they loved a person so much that they were willing to put their ego aside for that person.

This is what haShem is asking of us with the daily olah offering, and with the daily grain offering the cohen gadol has to make.

This is one of the messages of this week’s parsha.

If you care to read what I wrote about this parsha last year, click here.

About the Author

Shmuel Shalom Cohen spent 10 years studying Torah in Jerusalem. Six years ago, he started Conscious Torah to help Jews connect to their tradition in ways they didn’t think possible. Shmuel also started, and is the executive directory of Jewish Events Willamette-valley, a non-profit whose mission is to build Jewish community, pride, and learning. In his free time, Shmuel likes walks in nature, playing music, writing poetry, and time with good friends.