Cultivating the Sacred Routine And More Zevachim 44-46
Daf 44 – Cultivating the Sacred Routine
Our Gemara on Amud Aleph discusses some of the qualities of the Cohen Godol’s daily mincha offering. Unlike most meal offerings, no portion is consumed by the Cohen, as it is fully offered as a sacrifice.
Sefer Hachinuch (137) explains a possible reason for this uniqueness. If the Cohen were to eat from it, it would feel more routine—part of his daily eating habit—and would lose its sense of being a special devotional act.
I wonder, if so, why is anyone allowed to eat from any sacrifice? The answer must be that since this is a twice-daily routine, it is far more subject to losing its specialness.
For us non-cohanim, we also have a devotional service: the morning, afternoon, and evening prayers. The fact that we do this so often can also make it difficult to feel that prayer is elevating and holy. Though we are obligated to pray, we must not treat it like a burden or a rote requirement (Avos 2:13).
The Torah sought to cultivate a sense of the sacred in the Cohen’s mincha by forbidding him to eat from it. There is a parallel in our prayer. Most laypeople consider refraining from talking during davening as an important technical requirement—“here it is forbidden to interrupt”—so as not to invalidate the prayer. In actuality, it’s much bigger than that. The idea is to limit the mental noise in our heads so that we can focus on the experience of standing before God.
The halacha also requires that the place of prayer be treated with reverence, forbidding most forms of mundane speech even outside of prayer. It is worth reviewing those halachos in Shulchan Aruch (OC 151). To pray with proper concentration and continuous awareness of God’s presence requires daily, consistent practice. It’s really like training for a marathon. A person doesn’t wake up one day and decide to run a marathon; if he wants to succeed, he must train for years.
Similarly, if a person wants to succeed in having the right mindset for davening, where the mental racket in his head is somewhat subdued, it can take years of creating an emotional and mental set of cues. One part of that is treating the place and time of prayer as a sacred zone consistently. Another important behavioral pattern and cue is to take a few minutes to prepare and clear one’s mind before prayer, contemplating God’s greatness, as codified in Shulchan Aruch (OC 98).
Daf 45 – Torah for its Own Sake
Our Gemara on Amud Aleph records that Rava objects to the issuance of a halachic ruling about sacrifices that would only become relevant once the Beis HaMikdash is rebuilt in the times of Mashiach.
Abaye asks incredulously: If that is a concern, let the tanna not teach all the halachos of the slaughter of sacrificial animals, as it is entirely a halacha for the messianic period! Rather, one studies these halachos to delve into Torah and receive reward (derosh v’kabel sachar).
Rava responds that his objection was not to the study of Torah itself, but rather to the issuance of a ruling. Why make a ruling that will only be applicable in the times of Mashiach? Perhaps then they will decide halachos according to the Sanhedrin of that future time.
What is meant by the term derosh v’kabel sachar—“delve into Torah and receive reward”? The simple meaning seems to be that even if there’s no practical outcome, since the study of Torah is intrinsically valuable and a mitzvah, reward will be received regardless.
The problem with this formulation is that the goal of mitzvos altogether should not be to receive reward (Avos 1:3), so why should this be emphasized as the main virtue? Pri Tzaddik (Lag B’omer 6:2) answers that it means to study Torah and receive the “reward” in this world that is analogous to the “reward” in the next world. This is not really reward per se, but basking in connection and enlightenment through God’s presence, as described in Berachos (7a) and in the Rambam’s introduction to Perek Chelek. The correct way to read this is: Study Torah for its intrinsic elevation and spirituality, for it will enlighten you and bring you to a place resembling the World to Come while still in this world.
This answer brings out an important truth about Torah study, though one could also suggest a simpler explanation. Perhaps the Gemara was not emphasizing reward as a desirable goal, but rather as an indicator that it is worthwhile. The fact that there is reward for studying Torah alone shows that it’s intrinsically valuable, though one’s motivation need not be the reward itself.
Be’er Mayim Chaim (Parashas Tzav) and Arvei Nachal (Toldos 3) give a different answer. The Hebrew word “derosh,” which we translated as “to delve into” or “study,” literally means “to seek.” They read the saying as follows: “Seek out the mitzvos even when you aren’t able to accomplish them, by studying them in every possible way to show your desire to fulfill them, and you will receive the very same compensation (reward) that you would receive had you been able to perform them.” This interpretation fits perfectly when discussing the study of sacrifices, about which we already have a tradition that one who studies them is as if he actually brought the sacrifice (Menachos 110a).
Daf 46 – When the Holy Charge Is Discharged
Our Gemara on Amud Aleph explains a general rule regarding the sanctification of sacrificial material and when it is subject to me’ilah (being violated when used for a profane, secular purpose or benefit). The Gemara declares: “There is no item whose mitzvah has been performed that is still subject to the prohibition of misusing consecrated property.”
The idea is that sacrificial material remains in a sacred state up until the time the ritual is performed. Once the ritual is completed, the energy is discharged, so to speak.
Sichas Avodas Halevi (33:5) uses this principle to help us understand another Talmudic idea regarding blessings. The Gemara (Berachos 35a) states:
“One who derives benefit from this world without a blessing, it is as if he enjoyed objects consecrated to the heavens (me’ilah), as it is stated: ‘The earth and all it contains is the Lord’s, the world and all those who live in it’ (Psalms 24:1). Rabbi Levi raises a contradiction: It is written, “The earth and all it contains is the Lord’s,” and elsewhere, “The heavens are the Lord’s, and the earth He has given to mankind” (Psalms 115:16). He resolves the contradiction: Before a blessing is recited, the earth is the Lord’s; after a blessing, it is given to mankind.”
Rav Ruderman asks: How does reciting a blessing remove the consecration? The answer is that, just as the material for a sacrifice is consecrated for the purpose of performing the service—and once the service is performed, the sanctification departs because the energy is discharged—so too, everything in this world functions in the same dynamic.
The pleasures of this world were “consecrated,” so to speak, by God in order that man recognize and appreciate them, and turn toward the Creator in gratitude and emulation. Through the blessing, this recognition is actualized; it is as if the sacrificial procedure were completed, and the products are then permitted for benefit.
Looking at the world through this lens transforms everyday life into sacrifice and service. The “sacrifice” of daily life is not only toil and burden, but also the enjoyment of the world’s gifts. When done with conscious appreciation of God as Creator, it becomes an act of avodah.