Rabbi O’s Weekly Parsha: Vayikra (Leviticus 1-5)

The Call Your Didn’t Expect
If you’ve ever looked closely at a Torah scroll, even if you can’t read Hebrew, you’ll notice that every letter is carefully written—but, in this week’s Parsha, something surprising jumps out; the last letter of the first word is an aleph, but it’s written smaller than all the other letters. Why?
The small aleph is connected to the humility of Moshe, Moses. Moshe had just been invited by G-d to speak with Him—to receive instructions about how to bring goodness into the world, but Moshe didn’t want to give the appearance that he was on that level or that he was special. So instead of writing Vayikra, meaning “G-d called to Moshe”—with a full aleph, he made it small. Almost like G-d just happened to speak to him. A “chance encounter,” not a direct hotline to heaven.
There are two other occasions that G-d called out to Moshe, each corresponding to a different moment in his life. The first was at the burning bush, when Moshe was alone in the desert and the second was at the giving of the Torah. Now, in the beginning of this week’s Torah reading, is the third time G-d called Moses; it was shortly after the sin of the Golden Calf. Each of these moments represents a different kind of experience for how we might hear G-d’s voice in our lives.
Mount Sinai was the ultimate high. Thunder, lightning, a nation gathered together, and a voice booming from the heavens. It was unambiguous, dramatic, and unforgettable. Sometimes we have those moments in life too—a birth, a wedding, an incredible sunset, a sudden insight or spiritual awakening. In those moments, we feel there’s something bigger than ourselves. For some, it’s the feeling that G-d speaking to them. But those moments are rare.
Life also has its low points, where we make a mistake that will severely affect our future. This is represented the Golden Calf, one of the worst mistakes in Jewish history. Moshe had to beg G-d to forgive the nation. Everyone was hurting. There was confusion, guilt, feeling distant from G-d—and still, in that moment, G-d called to Moshe.
What an inspiring message! Even after colossal failure—even when we feel disappointed in ourselves and unworthy, G-d doesn’t turn away—He values us. He calls again and reaches out to us precisely in the moments when we are doubt, we deserve it. The small aleph hints at that feeling: Who am I to be called by G-d? But G-d whispers back, I’m still here; I still desire you.
Finally, there’s the burning bush. Moshe was shepherding sheep; nothing dramatic was supposed to happen, but then he saw something odd—a bush on fire but it was not being consumed. At that moment, he told himself, let me turn aside and look. When did G-d call out to him? When Moshe made a conscious decision to pay attention and investigate the unusual sight of a bush burning but not being consumed.
This is the message of the everyday. Even though G-d might not send lightning, thunder, or a burning bush to get our attention, nonetheless, we regularly encounter unusual or stirring occurrences that quietly glow in our lives—if we’re willing to notice them. Maybe it’s a person we meet, a question we can’t shake, a moment of kindness—or struggle. The question we need to ask ourselves is, am I be willing to make a conscious decision to turn aside and look?
Whether you’re feeling low or on a spiritual high—or just going about your day—G-d is calls regularly but not always in bold, obvious ways. Sometimes His voice is loud and shakes you to your core. It’s a moment of clarity, inspiration, or beauty that takes your breath away like a birth or wedding, or a sunset that feels like it was painted just for you. It’s a class or conversation that moves you to tears or a moment of prayer when you feel—He’s here.Sometimes it’s a whisper; a little flicker or small coincidence. It’s just a small aleph—easy to overlook, but full of meaning. It’s easy to miss or dismiss. It’s the gentle nudge that keeps you going, even when you feel like giving up. It’s the friend who calls just when you needed it or a song lyric that feels like it was written for your soul. It’s not loud. It’s not dramatic. But it reaches you—quietly, deeply. The message at those times is, even now, I haven’t left you; I’m still here.
You don’t have to be Moses to be aware of these messages, you just have to pay attention and be present in the moment. In the big moments, open your heart to the awe. In the low moments, don’t give up—G-d is still with you. In the everyday, train yourself to notice the small sparks—because that’s often where G-d hides.
So next time something stirs in your soul—whether loud or quiet—pause. Pay attention. It might be G-d calling; Moses embraced the moment, and so can we all. The next time you’re going through something hard and wondering where to turn, the next time someone says something that touches you, realize these aren’t just coincidences, they might be your burning bush moments. Good Shabbos