In this week’s Torah portion, B’ha’aloticha, the Levites are designated to replace the first born as those who will serve in the Tabernacle, as the Torah states: “Take the Levites from among the Israelites and purify them. This is what you shall do to them to purify them: sprinkle the water of purification on them, let them shave their whole body with a razor, and wash their clothes- thus they shall be purified.” We understand why the waters of purification made from the ashes of the red heifer are required for purification and even the washing of clothes, but why must the Levites shave the hair off of their bodies?
There are two approaches in the commentaries. Rashi compares the Levites to the metzora, the leperous person, who must shave all their body hair. The 12th century commentator, Rabbi Yosef Bekhor Shor, on the other hand compares the Levites to the Nazir, the nazarite, who too must shave their hair.
Though both shave their hair – the Nazir, the Nazarite, who takes a vow of asceticism, and the mitzorah, one struck with a Biblical leprosy-like skin disease, they are very different- in fact, they are almost opposites. The Nazir is someone who aspires to a higher place, who imposes an assestic oath upon themselves to achieve a higher spiritual level. The mitzorah on the other hand, is someone who suffers punishment for their shortcomings, an outcast from the camp, who must stay far from others and declare, “impure, impure,” as people walk by, so no one comes in contact with them. What do we learn from comparing the Levite who will serve in the Tabernacle to both the Nazir and the Mitzorah?
The Levi must be both the Nazir who aspires for a higher spiritual level, holding in check their own desires in order to serve others with selflessness, and when it comes to caring for those who find themselves in the position of other, foreigner or stranger, the Levite must see themselves as the Metozrah, the one who knows what it is like to feel alienated. Great leaders both raise themselves up like the Nazir to reach great heights, but also lower themselves like the Metzorah, to be with others, one with their people, especially with those who are on the fringe.
Kesher Israel is a unique community. It is more than a place for us to daven, socialize and study Torah. It is an institution with very long and embracing arms. Thousands of visitors come to Kesher every year from across the Orthodox and general community, and Kesher has in its orbit thousands of alumni, who over the years have gone out into the Jewish world to be the lay leaders of Jewish community institutions such as shuls and day schools, and to be civic and political leaders across the spectrum of government and other institutions.
In a profound way Kesher is as much like a university as a synagogue. This notion was reinforced for me this week when I spoke to an alum of Kesher who lived downtown and served our community as a young lay leader about 25 years ago. This alum and I were talking about how to help out a second alum from an earlier generation of Kesher with their needs. The network of Kesher alumni, helping each other and staying in touch, reaches through generations and decades.
In another recent interaction with a Kesher alum in a suburban location, they talked about their desire to, once their children are grown, move back to downtown DC and the Kesher community. This alum stressed to me how unique the community is, how interesting its members are, and how deep the ties are which bind alumni of Kesher to the mothership. The Alum attributed this to the fact that the years which many people spend at Kesher are formative in their young professional lives and that a significant number met their spouses at Kesher and had their first child or several here. Thus Kesher is forever a large part of their identity as individuals and Jews.
Kesher’s generations of alumni and myriads of visitors rely on us to keep the flame of community burning at our center. Like the Tabernacle at the center of the Jewish people, each of us who live downtown in the nation’s capital and keep the Kesher Israel community vibrant, are like one of the Levites,-responsible to keep the force at the center of thousands of Jewish people going strong.
As Levites we must be both like unto the Nazir and the Metzorah. We must own up to a high bar like the Nazir, sacrificing some of our own wants and needs for a higher communal and spiritual purpose, and like the Metzorah, feeling the otherness of those who come to shul and do not immediately find their place, loving them, since, as a Metzorah, we know what it is like to be outside the camp.
Kesher Israel’s mission is to be much more than a place to pray- and right now we must be her Levites.