There is an oft-overlooked component of one of the plagues on Egypt – but I think that this simple action actually might be a way to understand the sacrificial offerings in the tabernacle for the rest of the Torah.
What is this action? When Moses, following G-d’s instructions, throws soot in the air.
Then G-d said to Moses and Aaron, “Each of you take handfuls of soot from the kiln, and let Moses throw (zarak) it toward the heavens in the sight of Pharaoh. It shall become a fine dust all over the land of Egypt, and cause an inflammation breaking out in boils on human and beast throughout the land of Egypt.” So they took soot of the kiln and appeared before Pharaoh; Moses threw (zarak) it toward the heavens, and it caused an inflammation breaking out in boils on human and beast. (Ex. 9:8)
When the soot is thrown, it connects Egypt with the divine touch. Egypt, which is earth-centric, has no productive interaction with G-d or his divine touch (negah) – just as Pharoah suffered with Avram and Sarai, and would again with the plague of the first born. The soot resolves as boils, and plagues the land.
Why is this verse potentially relevant to something later in the text? Because the word for “throw,” zarak, is the very same word used by the priests when sprinkling or dashing the blood of a sacrificed animal on the altar (as well as the waters of the Red Heifer on a person). Which suggests that there is something we can learn from the word, zarak, that all these verses have in common.
The Torah uses this word to create a linkage, and a transformation. That transformation may be positive (as with altars), or it might be negative (as with the soot that transforms into a plague). But in both cases, we see the human action, the movement of fluid, and a linkage.
The nature of the fluid matters. Blood has enormous symbolic value in the text, because the Torah tells us that the blood is the physical manifestation of the life force of an animal. (More on blood here.)
In the case of the altar, the throwing links the offeror to the offering – the fluid is a proxy, allowing the blood of the animal to act on behalf of the person who brought the offering. When we bring an offering, the offeror is connected, through the zarak, to the animal which is slaughtered – both by physical and spiritual investment. So the priest throw the blood on the altar, which directly links the offeror to the smoke that elevates upward into the sky, zarak toward the heavens – linking the offerings to Moshe’s action with the soot, to G-d’s promise to Avram that his offspring would be like the stars, and critically to the ladder in Jacob’s dream that connects to the heavens. This is all part of the Reiach Cycle we explored before: mankind’s spirit invests upward, through the proxy facilitated by zarak.
For the red heifer, the “living water” connects the symbol of life with the person who had been tainted by touching death. Zarak connects and transforms.
We sprinkle with “life blood”, to create a spiritual bond between the altar and the person thus sprinkled. The animal (or its blood) is a catalyst, or a bridge. Our offerings are meant to promote the Reiach Cycle, and indeed increase the flow of spiritual energy upward and downward. When we reach out to G-d, we hope and pray that He reciprocates, and blesses us in turn. Our energies flow upward, and we pray that G-d receives them, and returns them to us with blessings and divine involvement in our lives. Yearning to get closer to G-d should lead to that desire being reciprocated, essentially a positive feedback loop.
Which leaves us with one really interesting case study: there is one time that blood is sprinkled directly on the people (not just on the altar). This case leads to the creation of an enduring, permanent transformation.
When is that case? It is when Moshe first ascends the mountain. This section, Exodus 24, is oft-overlooked:
Then Moses was told, “Come up to G-D, with Aaron, Nadab and Abihu, and seventy elders of Israel, and bow low from afar. … Moses went and repeated to the people all G-D’s words and all the rules; and all the people answered with one voice, saying, “All the things that G-D has said, we will do!” (na’aseh). Moses then wrote down all G-D’s words. Early in the morning, he set up an altar at the foot of the mountain, with twelve pillars for the twelve tribes of Israel. He designated assistants among the Israelites, and they offered burnt offerings and sacrificed bulls as offerings of well-being to G-D.
Moses took one part of the blood and put it in basins, and the other part of the blood he dashed (zarak) against the altar. Then he took the record of the covenant and read it aloud to the people. And they said, “All that G-d has spoken we will do and we will hearken!” (na’aseh v’nishma) Moses took the blood and dashed it (zarak) on the people and said, “This is the blood of the covenant that G-d now makes with you concerning all these commands.”
Look at this crazy process, and see where zarak is used – it is the sealing of the deal, creating a permanent change in the people by linking them, forever more through the blood of the offerings on the altar (the Reiach Cycle), to Moshe, to the events at Sinai and – most critically of all – to lock in the national proclamation that we will both do what G-d has commanded, and that we will hear/listen/contemplate/learn G-d’s words forever more. The blood first goes on the side connecting to heaven (the altar), and the side connecting to each of us (the people).
This only happens once. Because that is all it took. The Jews have been students of the Torah ever since, dedicating huge chunks of our lives to study, to better understand. Indeed, even Jews who choose to no longer follow the commandments often keep the cerebral and intellectual engagement with the Torah in all its forms, even if they only honor the text through opposing it!
Zarak blood adds a dimension and solidity to the words that we spoke, so that they are recorded in blood. Zarak made the words tangible and enduring, sealing the bris, the covenant between G-d and the people, just as circumcision (which is also bloody) creates a covenant between each newborn boy and his Creator.
P.S. There is a related word, mizrak, which means “basin.” Because of the “mem” prefix, it also means “the essence or origin of zarak”). And it loops back nicely to the event on Sinai, because 12 silver basins are made to match the 12 altars – one for each tribe. And each basin weighs 70 silver pieces – like the 70 elders who go up on Sinai(E. 24:9-11). 12 and 70 are also the number of the Jews entering Egypt (12 tribes and 70 people), as well as the number when they camped after the Exodus: Elim, where there were 12 springs of water and 70 palm trees (E. 15:27). So to have mizrak also be weighed at 70 is to always connect the zarak, the dashing of blood on the altar, back to the national unity coming into and out of Egypt, and the dashing of the blood on the people at Sinai when we all pronounced na’aseh v’nishmah, “we will do, and we will hear.”