This parsha marks the beginning of a new book in the Humash, the book of Vayikra (Leviticus), the third of the five. However, we should read the opening verse of this parsha as following directly from the last verses of the previous one, the book of Shemot (Exodus).

Those last verses of Shemot tell us that when Moses had finished erecting the desert sanctuary, “the Presence of the Lord,” in the form of a cloud, settled within the sanctuary so that Moses could not enter it. Now in this first verse of Vayikra, God calls to Moses from within the sanctuary and proceeds to instruct him regarding the laws of the priestly worship service.

This sequence accounts for the unusual opening word of this parsha. Typically, we are told that God “speaks” to Moses. Here, God has to “call” to Moses – “vayikra” – because God is within and Moses outside of the sanctuary. “Calling” implies that there is a distance between the speaker and the hearer.

But the contrast between the last verses of Shemot and the opening passages of Vayikra is striking. The alternative name for the book of Vayikra is Torat Kohanim, the Book of Instructions of (or for) the Priests. The large part of the book deals with laws pertaining to the service of worship conducted by the priests. Appropriately, then, the opening chapters of the book detail the procedures for the various sacrifices that are to be offered by the priests in the sanctuary. These procedures are described in minute detail; there is precious little narrative color in this material. It is effectively a code of law.

In contrast, the concluding verses of Shemot are pervaded with mystery: the cloud hovers over the sanctuary, the presence of God fills it, Moses cannot enter because of God’s presence. The cloud by day and the fire by night signify God’s presence among the people. When the cloud lifts, the people travel; when it settles, the people settle.

We don’t customarily relate these two passages because first, they are read a week apart, and second, because they belong to two separate books. But those divisions are quite incidental. Read the text as if it were one continuous narrative, and you pass without a break from the mystery of God’s presence in cloud and fire to the laws of sacrifices.

We make the same “incidental” divisions in our lives as Jews. One of the most commonly heard “in” words among young Jews today is “spirituality.” The search for this elusive form of expression pervades their lives as Jews. It induces them to leave some synagogues and to join others; to go to retreats in the Far East or in some other natural setting; to meditate, to sing and dance; to tell Hasidic tales; and to study Kabala, Jewish mystical texts.

Not infrequently, this search for spirituality is undertaken at the expense of attention to the minute details that govern traditional Jewish living. These behavioral forms may not be totally ignored, but they acquire a lower level of priority. Inwardness has replaced outward behavior as the preeminent form of being Jewish. The last words of Shemot — the mystery — are more central than the opening verses of Vayikra – the meticulous observance of ritual behavior.

But our texts tell us that it is precisely out of the mysteries of the sanctuary that God addressed Moses, and even more important, it is precisely within that sanctuary that the sacrifices are to be offered. The message seems to be that. however paradoxical it may sound, the realm of the mystery is not at all incompatible with meticulous observance of ritual behavior. In fact, it is through these detailed rituals that the mystery may be accessed.

We no longer have a Temple nor do we have kohanim offering sacrifices. In our day, the world as a whole is a Temple and we are all kohanim worshiping God in our own ways. We may then recall that as in antiquity, it is precisely the meticulous attention to our behavioral lives as Jews that may enable us best to access the mysteries of the spiritual. Attention to our outwardness will enrich our inwardness.