We have spoken previously about the particular way in which the Torah describes each type of offering –by introducing it in one Parsha and then adding more details about that type of offering in subsequent Parshas.  We have noted that the order in which the details of the korbanot are added and described are not accidental: it is in fact a logical and productive evolution of each particular stream of relationship in a manner appropriate to human experience.  For example, just as your capacity to apologize precedes your effectiveness in apology, which precedes your eloquence in apology, so too the olah and shelamim offerings expand in their , intricacy, reach and depth.

As such, each of the offerings we discussed in the previous Parsha is brought to another level in this Parsha, adding clear methods by which these essential components of relationship can be refined to be more impacting and lasting in effect. Tzav gives concrete advice that addresses all points of relationship.  First, though, we get instructions that apply to all offerings made in relationship.

Don't hesitate to take appropriate action

One metric by which to chart the growth of a relationship is the speed by which problems are identified and appropriate actions taken.  The ingredient needed for speedy action is called ziruz, usually translated as enthusiasm, alacrity or urgency.  It is, essentially, the opposite of laziness: recognizing and overcoming the tendency of important actions to be pushed off for a wide variety of reasons.

Ziruz is an essential theme of the Parsha based upon the peculiar first word tzav – literally, ‘command!’ – which comes in contradistinction to the usually form Titzaveh – ‘you shall command’.  According to the Midrash, the word implies the need for immediacy in action – do it right away!  Have that conversation now! Apologize as soon as you can!  Don’t wait to say thank you!

Even if we know what we should or could be doing to enhance our relationship, it is wise to work on the element of ziruz – to act quickly in order to restore intimacy to the relationship.  After all, the intimacy we reach through our primary relationship is a lifeline.

Take care of it once and for all

The same Midrash tells us that an action commanded with the word tzav implies precedent for future generations.  The command should not need to be repeated.  Similarly, once a particular barrier to intimacy is identified and dealt with properly, it should not require much effort to overcome that barrier the next time.  It should suffice to merely reassert the skill that we attained the last time we struggled through this configuration.  For every new barrier to intimacy that pops up in relationship, there are several old issues that can be dealt with effectively with skills we have already developed, merely because we have seen them and know how to overcome them.

Act speedily - and patiently

It clearly takes a special kind of initiative – ziruz - to get the sacrifice to the altar – that is, to have that conversation, express gratitude, or make that apology.   But once they are brought, the opposite skill is needed: just as an offering is allowed to stay on the altar until it is consumed, an apology or expression of gratitude needs to be able to sit for a while to take effect.  Don’t expect him to leap across the table and hug you just because you said something nice!

Thus on one hand we have a sense of ziruz – being sure the action happens in its proper time and is not left to become chometz.  On the other hand we are told that, after the initial ziruz, the offering can stay on the altar as long as necessary.

This is clearly an important point – every relationship requires a healthy relationship between urgency and patience.  It is urgent for the process to begin, but it is essential that it be allowed to take its natural course.  That essential movement cannot be put off - ziruz - but the process cannot be rushed in coming to its conclusion.  A person needs time to digest the apology and offer some methods of recompense or solution.  The one who apologized must have time to internalize those suggestions and put them into action.  The light of that initial apology must be given time to move through the rest of the system and overcome, or at least point toward, subsequent issues that need to be addressed.  And this process might point toward other problems that may require their own korbanot.

The moments after intense encounter are essential

Once the capacity to rise toward the vision of the relationship becomes somewhat familiar, the Torah encourages us to learn how to come down from that moment of vision down into the world.  It is essential to know that there is an art in ‘dismounting’ any impacting spiritual experience.  It must be a positive, assertive ‘act’, purposely done with intention, care, and direction, as opposed to a mere ‘falling apart’ of the moment.

The looming danger after beautiful moments is the expectation that everything in the relationship will have changed immediately and permanently.  But the Torah carries no such illusions – after all, you would have thought G-d giving the Torah at Sinai would have established a new and permanent modality of relationship, but that only lasted about 40 days.  So don’t expect one good conversation to change everything forever.

We do - and should – expect some movement.  But it will be incremental.  An amazing conversation might lead to something as mundane as an agreement about who does the dishes and when.  But that’s a big deal!  Those kinds of things seem small, but they cause us disproportionate amounts of stress.  Knowing who is taking out the garbage tonight can turn a stress-filled evening into a relaxing one.

Chatat Part II

Remember, the chatat and asham offerings attempt to repair different types of lapses in consciousness pertaining to the relationship.

Whereas in Parshat Vayikra we gained a deep sense of the motives and methods of the chatat offering, Parshat Tzav offers the essential next step: who eats the offering, where, and when.  The eating of any offering, absolutely essential to the process, indicates where the nourishing aspects of the offering will be focused.  Some offerings, for example, had to be eaten within the courtyard of the tent of meeting, while others could be eaten on the Temple grounds, and still others could be eaten anywhere within the walls of Jerusalem.

The chatat is considered quite holy and important, and is therefore eaten in the most sanctified place.  Rav Kook, however, sees the import of eating the chatat in the courtyard of the tent of meeting not as a function of its holiness per se, but its hidden-ness. The most hidden place on the Temple mount corresponds to the most hidden place within us – our very souls, where true healing must happen.  As Rav Kook writes, life force that has been expressed in a distorted way must be returned to its source in the soul.

When one partner violates boundaries, it is the pain in his or her soul that causes pain in the other.  The pain caused to the other must be addressed, with confession and contrition – in dialogue.  But the healing within one’s self is a private matter.  Therefore, after having honored and attempted to mend the damage to the relationship in all aspects, the offending partner must be allowed to heal in private.  If he or she is successful, the energy used to obstruct the relationship will be transformed into energy that will ultimately serve the relationship.  Thus it is eaten by male Kohanim, who represent service in the Temple.

Practically speaking, there may be a temptation to heal a rift by spending more time together, but this might be the wrong direction.  It may be more appropriate that we take time alone, healing the rift at its source rather than in its manifestation.  A violation of the relationship might be best dealt with by each partner spending time with good friends or alone with his or thoughts and feelings.

Asham part II – The guts

The asham is the offering brought on account of forgetfulness.  It is similar to the chatat in many ways, and brings up many of the same questions – why did I forget?  Why was I not aware?  Answers to these questions will bring deep clarity as to the obstacles preventing a deepening of the relationship.  What, exactly, is my block?  What prevents me from seeing my partner’s well-being as equally important to my own?

In Parshat Vayikra, the Torah mentions the removal, washing, and burning of the innards of each offering – that is, except the asham.  For some reason, the removal and burning of the guts of the asham is only mentioned here in Tzav.  Why would the Torah wait?  What is unique about the asham?

The sin of forgetfulness is not like other transgressions.  A chatat implies unconsciousness about you.  But the asham implies that I do not know about me.  My unconsciousness about you is regrettable but understandable – I am born, after all, thinking mostly about myself and satisfying my own needs.  My struggle to let another into my life is an existential up-hill battle.  It is quite strange, then, if I cannot be fully cognizant of my own deeds.  After all, I have been spending most of my life thinking about myself!

Thus, the ‘guts’ of the matter will not be so clear to me the first time around, and will only be ’spilled’ when I have already spent some time with the matter.  The guts of the asham symbolize my need to explore my own relationship to myself.

It is important to note that not all offerings to the relationship happen with the other person.  The guts of the asham are a perfect example of work that must be done alone or with outside help.  It is quite unlikely that a conversation with my partner about my lack of awareness about myself will bear any fruit, unless he or she has insight into the matter.

But the offerings we, as individuals - momentarily outside the context of relationship - can make within the Mishkan of Relationship is an important category.  We do enhance the relationship by working individually through our own personal challenges.  And we can use the relationship as a diagnostic and as a sounding board for flushing out those issues.

Shelamim part II – different kinds of shattering

The Shelamim, as mentioned, comes to realign the parts of the relationship with the whole, and the whole of the relationship with the Greater Whole.  That is to say, each partner should be fulfilled, the relationship itself should be fulfilling, and the relationship should serve the Greater Good as well.  The first stage of shelamim – as described in Parshat Vayikra – calls for establishing these three parts of the relationship as a priority.

Tzav takes up the next level of Shelamim:  After we have established the priority of nourishing these three streams within relationship, the Torah teaches us that there are several different kinds of Shelamim, paralleling several different reasons why things fall apart - each with its own method of coming back together.  We will explore each of them in their own time, but this Parsha brings only the Todah – gratitude offering - and the neder/nedavah – voluntary gift offering.

Gratitude is one of the most essential types of interaction in relationship.  Rebbe Nachman says it is so essential that, often enough, a relationship simply cannot move forward without an expression of gratitude.  It behooves us, then, to explore the ‘guts’ of gratitude.

The Shem M’Shmuel defines gratitude as awareness that one is not automatically worthy of the goodness one is receiving.  We say thank-you when we recognize that someone has given us something they were not required to give us.  When a relationship looses its freshness, we might come to expect a certain quid pro quo: we might assume that our receiving is balanced exactly by what we give, so no thank-yous are necessary.   In this mindset, all of our giving and receiving is a part of an agreed-upon economy where no gratitude is necessary.

And though it is true that we do negotiate certain agreements about giving and receiving, this does not negate the power – and necessity – of appropriately expressing gratitude.  And there is a deep danger looming: that quid pro quo is often quite skewed beneath the surface, operating according to an elaborate unspoken formula as to what deserves gratitude and what does not.  I might well think that, because I cleaned up my tools, you ‘should’ clean up the kitchen, and therefore I do not need to thank you for doing so.

This is why the Gratitude offering is considered a Shelamim – peace offering.  It comes to address the gap, or lack thereof, between who we are as individuals and who we are as a relationship.  It points toward our occasional lapse into thinking that the relationship is the entire point, we are each but a subset thereof, and therefore we do not need to thank each other.  This offering reminds us that our partner is also an individual with existence and importance outside the realm of the relationship, worthy of recognition for his or her contributions.

Gratitude for many levels of nourishment

The Todah offering contains four types of bread – biscuits saturated with oil, biscuits merely glazed with oil, boiled dough with oil, and actual leavened bread.  According to the Shem M’Shmuel, the four types of bread represent four of the five levels of soul – nefesh (animal, or life-soul), ruach (emotional soul, or spirit) neshama (spiritual or Divine soul) and what he calls Tzelem Elokim – that which makes us fully and Divinely human.

My expression of gratitude, then, is meant to show my appreciation for nourishment that I get on many levels – all aspects of my soul are (or should be) touched by the relationship, and I should honor that with a Todah.  A simple glass of water might quench my physical thirst, but it also makes me feel seen and taken care of, and builds my trust in you for the future.

Promises and vows – a second kind of shelamim offering

The second type of Shelamim offering described in the Torah is the neder or nedavah.  The difference between a neder – vow offering and a nedavah – voluntary offering is as follows: a neder is the offering of one who says ‘I will bring a cow to the Temple.’  If he then chooses a cow from the herd to bring, and that cow dies on the way to the Temple, he must bring another cow.  In a nedavah, however, he would say ‘I am giving this cow to the Temple.’  If the cow dies on the way, he need not bring another cow.’

In each case the person is moved to offer something to the relationship.  But precision as to what he or she wishes to offer will be essential in avoiding disappointment.  A gesture that is meant to last must last – ‘I am committed to taking a walk with you every Tuesday morning.’  ‘I’d like to take a walk with you tomorrow’ is an entirely different matter.  But what do I mean when I say ‘I’d like to take a walk with you?’

At risk, in a sense, is the value of my word.  If I take a walk with my wife this Tuesday, and she shows up again next Tuesday expecting another walk, I might find myself saying ‘I didn’t mean every week’ or even ‘I guess I didn’t say what I meant.’  And my wife might find herself wondering if she can ever take my word literally.  In fact, in the section of the Torah dealing with vows, we find Rashi[1] adding the warning ‘don’t make your words chol – profane!’ – implying that one’s words can, and ought to be, well chosen and holy.

But this is no simple matter.  We do not always say what we mean – we sometimes say what we think we mean, or what we think we should mean, or, more precisely, what we think our partner thinks we should mean.  All of us will hopefully learn – eventually - that the truth causes less pain in the long run, even if there is a moment of disappointment at the beginning.

How pleasing and energizing it is to say, ‘I don’t know about tomorrow, but I really want to dance with you right now.’  Besides sounding a lot less un-romantic than ‘I think we should dance every Thursday night from 8 to 9’, it manages to convey a deep desire and love while admitting an inability to commit to anything beyond this moment.

And there are of course moments when we have no choice but to commit to a certain action or behavior long-term – ‘I am committed to listening to you when you speak without interrupting.’  It does not make any sense to say, ‘I don’t know about next week, but I am sure committed to listening to you right now.’  When we make a commitment like this, if we fall off, so to speak, we are required to get right back on – ‘bring another cow’.

Eating the gratitude-offering: focusing the energy

Since the shelamim in general – and the gratitude offering in specific - deals with the individual’s relationship to others in the context of family and society, the Todah is eaten during the day – the time of social gathering, and at night – the time one typically spends alone.  It nourishes our social self as well as our isolated selves.

The neder and nedavah-offerings can be eaten for two days and one night.  For Rav Kook, again, eating during the day implies interaction within relationship, whereas eating at night implies personal work.  Here, the ratio is two to one – two parts social (day) surrounding one part private (night).  The social interaction serves as the diagnostic as well as the proving ground for my integrity in the realm of speech.  Since effective speech occurs in the context of relationship, I am encouraged to notice my speech within the context of interaction (as opposed to imaginative theories about my capacities for honest speech that occur in the comfort of isolation), and to notice just how much integrity is actually contained therein.  I then return to the ‘drawing board’, adjust what I need to adjust, and reemerge to engage my relationship, hopefully having improved upon the flaws in my integrity that I have noticed.

The Todah – who eats the offering

An essential portion of all Shelamim offerings is eaten only by the Kohanim, who are meant to exemplify the ultimate family – commonly devoted to what is beyond themselves and functioning in harmony with each other.  The entire Kohen family, therefore, is invited to partake of the holy offerings brought as Todah, in order to infuse all family-hood in Israel with the light of holiness.  This will inspire all of us to approach family and society with a healthy sense of generosity as well as sense-of-self.  The Kohen family represents

In order to understand the implications of this information on our lives-in-relationship, we must understand our own ‘inner Kohen’ and the ‘inner Kohen family’.  And this requires that we understand a bit about the different levels of soul within us.  When we talk about nefesh (animal, life-giving) ruach (emotional) neshama (spiritual) chaya and yechida (transpersonal) we are discussing the composite picture of who we are and how we relate to each other. Nefesh, for example, which is often called the animal soul, is inherently self-centered.  Like an animal, it is concerned almost entirely with self-preservation and advancement.  Any capacity to overcome selfish behavior requires intervention by the deeper levels of soul – ruach and neshama. Ruach already shows a concern for others, particularly the emotions that connect us and separate us. Neshama is already purely spiritual and far removed from concern with self.  Since every neshama is considered ‘an aspect of the Divine above’, connected to one another through this common root, concern with one neshama is inherently concern with all neshamot. Chaya and yechida are already beyond any sense of self as we know it.

Thus, nourishing one’s nefesh is almost inherently tantamount to selfishness.  Nourishing one’s ruach is inherently less selfish and more concerned with others.  Nourishing one’s neshama is inherently concerned with the other neshamot in the world, etc.  The neshama is the ‘inner Kohen’.  All the neshamot in the world, which are intrinsically connected, are represented by the ‘Kohen family’.

Thus, when the family of Kohanim eats holy food together, this is equivalent to our souls eating together.  How do our souls eat together?  With concern for each other, and for the common good.  When we are trying to focus a moment’s nourishment on the neshama, it requires stepping aside from selfish concerns and being sure our actions and words are intended to bring healing on the deepest level, and not just to placate or alleviate the burden of guilt.

Thus by receiving your glass of water all the way to the Neshama, I am channeling that nourishment right to our common core – and beyond us to the entire family of neshamot.

Getting to soul – the initiation of the Kohanim

The latter half of this Parsha deals with the initiation of the Kohanim – transforming them from ordinary people into ‘soul workers’, people who are capable of cultivating soulful encounter.  In the modern sense, Kohanim are people who can help us receive a glass of water from our lover on the deepest level, and learn to respond appropriately.

How do I know if my actions and words are reaching the soul level– is it guesswork?  Faith?  Random?  No – it is quite possible to develop the skills that will allow our movements in relationship to have impact on the soul level – though soul may not mean what we think it means.  We, too, can be initiated into awareness and care of soul just like Aharon and his sons were.  How did it happen for them?

They were required to go through a seven-day intensive training called miluim, during which they ‘became’ Kohanim.  During this time they went through an intricate choreographed experience, a vision quest of sorts, during which they were not permitted to leave the premises of the Mishkan.  They developed a relationship to the types of sacrifices they would have to bring, to the highly symbolic clothes they had to wear, and the many ritualized movements that would be part of their daily routine.

Each detail of their experience is saturated with eternal meaning and can teach us about how to develop our own skills in connecting to the level of soul.  And they are all given context when we understand how the Kohanim – and how we, by extension – can expect to connect to soul.  What is soul?  Where is it?  Ho does it look?  How can we be sure our movements toward each other are saturated with our own soul and directed toward the soul of the other?

The soul in longing and in pain

The Kohen’s job was to facilitate connection between the average person and the One

G-d.  Though there are many kinds of sacrifice, as we have seen, many of them deal with lack – someone either needs to be closer, did something wrong, or needs healing in relationship.  The Kohen would help the penitent turn those feelings into an opportunity for transformation.

And it is actually easier as such moments, as the person’s defenses are already down: having just done something regrettable, they know full well that they are not perfect or complete.  At such moments soul is present. The Kohen’s work, then, is to facilitate the full emergence of the soul that is already there.

Neo-Jungian psychologist James Hillman writes about ‘befriending’ soul.  It must be ‘met’ and ‘watched’.  We are encouraged to ‘let it speak itself.’  The Kohen becomes an ‘attendant of the soul.’

What does it take to become an attendant of the soul?  The Kohen – and we, by extension – must be free of the negative traits that will chase it away – like anger and judgment – and full of positive traits – like acceptance, patience, love, and healthy boundaries.  These are the ‘special garments’ the Kohanim had to wear, as described Parshat Titzaveh.

Most importantly, though, the Kohanim had to be comfortable with their own souls’ emergence.  And since the emergence of soul happens through gaps in personality provided by mistakes, failures, and doubts, the Kohanim had to have confronted their own darkest demons.  For this reason, much of the miluim process revolved symbolically around Aharon’s role in facilitating the sin of the calf.  Having shown his own deepest vulnerabilities (and therefore his very humanness and soulful-ness) at the time of the calf, Aharon could use that mistake as an access-point through which he could relate to everyone else who makes mistakes.

Thus if we are to serve as intermediaries for each other – if we are to cultivate soul in relationship – we must be comfortable with what comes out.  And to be comfortable, we must be comfortable with our own soul.  The more we have done this work, the more we will be able to recognize soul as it emerges, to help it emerge further, and to nourish it as fully as possible.

The Torah goes on to describe the details of the process whereby Aharon and his sons became ‘kohanim’.  The process is as intricate and intense as becoming a therapist or rabbi, and obviously cannot be summed up in a few words.  But I have included my understanding of the details of the process in an appendix.

The initiation process - miluim

Aharon and his sons’ intricate initiation process was meant to help them hear the cries of the soul in its attempts to emerge.  The seven days of milu’im – of being ‘filled’ in preparation for service in the Temple – were intensive graduate school and seminary rolled into one.

The first step in the initiation process was washing.  As R’ Kook discusses in context of the Temple’s washing basin, the process of washing brings one to the level of purity.  Purity is a prerequisite for holiness.  To whatever extent one is free of dross one can be transformed.  Since the Kohanim must be capable of interacting with people at their lowest points without judgment, and must serve as channels for Divine insight without unnecessary filtering, purity is the first gate.

Then the High Priest is clothed with the priestly garments.  As mentioned from the Gemarra, each of the garments served a specific soul-purpose: the ketonet – robe addressed the desire for bloodshed; the pants address illicit sexual desire; the turban – indulgence; the avnet – for unhealthy thoughts of the heart; the breast plate – for judgment; the apron – for idol worship; the outer coat – for lashon harah; and the head plate – for brazenness.

These garments were meant to allow the wearer to serve as a messenger from below to above and from above to below without interference from character traits that would cause immense damage in the process.  Thus, to be capable of ‘hearing the soul’, one must actively work toward mitigating the effects of these negative traits.

Once the clothes are on, and the person is ready to listen for signs of soul, the forms in which soul might emerge must be recognized and sanctified.  The furniture of the Temple – including the Table, the candelabrum, and the altars – will serve as conduits for emergence of soul.  And by being anointed, they are designated as such.  Similarly, it is incumbent upon lovers to show each other where soul emerges – whether it is in poetry, dance, speech, silence, or tennis, they must say to each other ‘these are the moments when I feel myself wanting to come out.  Please be extra careful not to trample on these parts of me, so that my soul can speak without fear.’

Before the vessels are anointed, the Mishkan is anointed.  The Mishkan represents the entire relationship.  The anointing of the Mishkan symbolizes that we are seeing the entire relationship as sacred ground for the emergence of soul.  Within the day-to-day interactions, the mundane functions, the love, the fights, the work, and the pleasure, we are both hoping to emerge and to heal.  Every moment in the Mishkan of relationship is potentially soulful.

The altar is then anointed with blood sprinkled seven times, and then with oil.  The altar, according to the Malbim, is the mechanism by which the relationship absorbs material.  That is where the specifics of what happens and needs to happen – like sacrifices coming to meet specific needs – enter into the consciousness of the relationship.  By this act, we show our desire that the means of absorption be sanctified.  We pray that our relationship will absorb our idiosyncrasies through listening, patience, compassion, and understanding, instead of anger, frustration, expectation/disappointment and judgment.

Then the sink is anointed.  We must be sure that there is always an activity or practice that allows us to become pure – to let go of interference - in the context of our relationship. We need a mechanism whereby we can remove from ourselves unnecessary obstacles that prevent our openness to emergence of soul.  Some people need a few moments of focused silence; others need a cup of coffee; still others would prefer 15 minutes on a trampoline or just holding hands.

Then Aharon himself is brought forth – his head is anointed.  Since Aharon will serve as the main intermediary for emergence of soul, he must be sanctified as such.  We have no ambiguity about our relationship with him.  As we will see later, there are certain behaviors that are inappropriate around a Kohen – we do not take our time with him lightly.  We must approach those who can recognize our souls with a sense of awe, and see that time together as sacred.  This is certainly the ideal in marriage – we should come to see each other as priests facilitating the emergence of soul.

It is, of course, dangerous to give another human the power to work with my soul.  Many have abused the privilege for sex, money, or power.  Many more have been under-qualified and, despite good intentions, have caused more harm than good.  This is primarily because those people have not dealt with their own demons.  In order for Aharon and his progeny to function as intermediaries, he must first confront the skeletons in his own closet – primarily the sin of the golden calf, for which he was held responsible.  And in order to allow each other to serve in the holy role of cultivating soul, we want to be sure that the other’s insights are genuine, and not born of their own projections or anxieties.

This process begins with the sacrifice of a cow as a chatat.  We know that a chatat comes to atone for a mistaken lack of consciousness.  What was Aharon’s lack of consciousness?  Perhaps he did not know whether it would be better to stand up against the people, and risk death, rather than mislead them into the sin of the calf.  This will certainly be an essential asset in his tenure as High Priest – since he will be constantly dealing with delicate souls and psyches, he must be quite clear on when to stand for a principle and when to bend to facilitate maximum emergence.  One must have maximum courage as well as pinpoint clarity in order to serve such a lofty purpose.

The blood of that cow is sprinkled on the altar to sanctify it.  Specifically the blood of the chatat cow is used, since this blood represents Aharon’s capacity to acknowledge his lack of clarity around the golden calf.  Having gestured toward deeper consciousness around this issue, Aharon will be more capable of approaching the altar as a means to absorb the specificities of the lives he encounters.  With precision he will know just how far to push - and how widely to hold his arms in embrace – the people who come to him in search of healing.

When this is finished, the olah – ram is brought. Olah always comes to offer a clear overview of the entire relationship.  In the form of a ram, it comes to clear up any interference from physicality that will prevent that from happening.  Though we have no reason to believe that Aharon’s missteps as leader in Moshe’s absence were motivated by physical coarseness, we do see that his specificity as Aharon may prevent him from seeing the tapestry of the people Israel as a whole.

One who wishes to facilitate the emergence of soul must climb beyond himself – or be able to do so on a moment’s notice – in order to recognize the place of that moment in the context of the story of that soul, as well as the place of that soul in the context of the entire people.  In recognizing the larger trends that affect the entirety of a life and the entirety of a people, the intermediary will have a much deeper understanding of the many factors that affect that particular soul.

The second ram, which serves as a Shelamim offering.  The Shelamim offering comes to reconcile the place of the individual in the context of his or her relationships.  Aharon will now be functioning as man and as missionary, in the community but separate.  In the context of his own family, he will be father and also high priest (as indicated, for example, by the fact that he is forbidden from mourning for them, as we shall see).  The intermediary – who may be a therapist, a rabbi, a mentor, or a good friend – must take steps to ensure that his or her individual role does not compromise – and is not compromised by – his or her relationships.

The miluim period is a vision quest

Once Aharon and his sons begin the journey to become intermediaries, they must remain outside of society for seven days in order to complete the process.  This is the amount of time that is needed in order to effect a real transformation.  In Native American cultures, an initiate who went on a vision quest would journey alone into the wilderness in search of personal growth and spiritual guidance.  Some would sit inside a ten foot circle for two to four days.  Aharon and his sons are expected to undergo transformation so that they may effectively serve the community as facilitators of emergence of soul.