Dr. Yaakov Brawer was a professor at McGill University of Montreal and would frequently lecture at Shabbatons in Brooklyn. It happened once that after speaking at one such Shabbaton, he wanted to daven minchahh with the Rebbe before he would travel home. His flight left at 4:30 PM and the Rebbe would pray minchah at 3:15 PM.
It was a very tight schedule, and he was a nervous traveler. He was anxious and could barely focus on his prayers. But something caught his attention on that day. It was the sound of soft sobbing. Next to him stood a man who was davening minchah, and judging by the intensity of his prayers, the professor was sure that this man was going through a severe crisis.
The man’s eyes were tightly closed. He was swaying with fervor, intently immersed in his minchah prayers. After the prayers concluded, the professor rushed home to wait for his taxi to pick him up. To his amazement, his driver was the very same man who had prayed alongside him in the Rebbe’s shul. As they drove to the airport, Doctor Brawer inquired how the man was doing. He was sure that the man was going through a tremendous challenge. Was it financial? Medical? Children? But to each of his questions, the man happily replied that all was well, thank G-d. Slowly, it dawned on the professor that this was simply the way the man prayed minchah each and every day.
I’m reminded of this story by a verse that seems to be out of place in this week’s Parshah. Parshas Pinchas discusses the different Korbanos that were brought in the beis hamikdash each day, beginning with the karban tamid, the daily burnt offering, which was brought every morning and evening. Whether it was a weekday, Shabbos, or Yom Tov, the karban tamid was always brought.
In the posuk’s description of the karban tamid, it states, “The tamid which was brought at Har Sinai for a pleasant aroma.” Why are we referencing the very first sacrifice brought at Mount Sinai? What does it have to do with the daily sacrifice? What happened at Har Sinai was a one time occurrence. Reb Yosef Salan provides a beautiful, practical answer.
The karban tamid was the paradigm of consistency. It was brought each and every day. Consistency is very valuable, but it also runs the risk of becoming monotonous. That is why we referenced the very first sacrifice brought at Mount Sinai. And the Torah is telling us essentially to try and achieve that same consistency.
We have to always remember the excitement and energy of that first karban. When we do something again and again, it could easily become boring and mundane. The key is to invoke that same novelty, wonder, and anticipation that was associated with our first time. Treat every mitzvah as your first mitzvah.
In Tehillim, David hamelech asks Hashem, “Shivti biveis hashem kol yemei chayai, ulivaker biheychalo.” Allow me to dwell in the house of G-d all my days and to visit his palace. And that seems to be a contradiction. If Dovid wants to dwell in the house of Hashem, how could he visit there? You’re either a resident or a visitor, but you can’t be both.
But that is precisely what Dovid Hamelech was asking for. I want to dwell in the house of Hashem, but I also want to retain the excitement and novelty of being a visitor. I want to constantly serve you while still seeing it as something new. Precisely because we daven every day, it’s easy for our excitement to fall away.
This is exactly what the professor’s taxi driver understood. There is no such thing as a regular “run-of-the-mill” minchah. Every time we pray, we can connect with Hashem in an entirely new way. The Karban Tamid invites us to look at every minchah as the only minchah, and every encounter with the Divine as our very first time.
Wishing you a wonderful Shabbos.
