Parshat Emor

Tonight if you find yourself at Kiddush you will have in front of you a scene that has, in essence, not changed for two thousand years. The bread on the table and the candles were first proscribed for the Temple in this week’s parshah. With the destruction of the Temple we moved this everyday occurrence into a weekly one and from the communal altar to the private table.

However, the continuity was not completely replaced. A ‘Ner Tamid’ (everlasting candle) will hang somewhere in the main room in every shul around the world. On the everlasting candle is an ‘Aish Tamid,’ a light that never goes out. From the time of the Chanukah story, when after the desecration of the temple by the Greeks the light burnt miraculously for eight days, this light has been a symbol of survival for us. Whenever Jews have faced persecution, there are stories of synagogues where the Ner Tamid remained lit.

This light, though, is unusable. It is a purely ceremonial light. Like the Chanukah candles we cannot use it for its light, to read by for example, nor can we use it for its flames to kindle other lights.

As Judaism changed the idea of this light was rethought by some. They internalised it and believed that this ‘Aish Tamid’ burnt inside all of us. It was a part of our souls that could never be extinguished.

This light, though,  is different. This light can shine and burn brightly. It can also be used, it can illuminate the world around us and guide us. We can listen to our hearts  and be guided by our souls.

But that is not the most important thing we can do with our flames. We can kindle others. We all know the effect a great teacher can have on us, or the places and inspirational leader can guide us to. These are the big flames that can kindle hundreds of souls at once. We are smaller, but our ability is no less. That is what we must strive to do, especially in Noam, providing role models for a new generation, we must try to kindle other flames and light a path towards a better world.

Shabbat shalom