Shemini
Leviticus 9:1–11:47
II Samuel 6:1–7:17
Leviticus, no longer just a biblical book, is now also a game for iPhones and iPads. By swiping a finger across the screen, you can decide which items are fit to be a proper sacrifice and which are better left alone: If you slaughter a pig, you’ll lose immediately. You can, however, sacrifice a lamb and a bull (but not the one with a bandaged leg, as blemished animals are a no-no), a sack of grain, a pitcher of oil or fruit.
This fun and challenging game is trying to make sense out of a difficult topic. The first half of the Book of Leviticus focuses on sacrifices; somehow, detailed descriptions of animals, blood and body parts within a complicated set of rules are unattractive and senseless to us.
And yet, once upon a time (and in some circles probably to this very day), Leviticus was the first book to which young children were introduced when they first came to learn Torah. The Midrash tells us that “those who are pure should deal with what is pure” — namely, young children are considered pure and should read about purity and how to maintain it.
I must admit: There are advantages to teaching rules about animals on the altar rather than the complex story of human creation, our nature, our drives and our relationships. The topic of sacrifice is straightforward: It’s clear what are the do’s and don’ts. And yet, in modern society, the notion of sacrifice is hard to stomach.
As is often the case, when I cannot figure it out, I return to the Hebrew and start from there. Sacrifice in Hebrew is “korban.” Korban comes from the root meaning to draw near, to approach. Some may know the words “karov,” relative, and “keiruv,” to bring someone closer. A sacrifice, therefore, is a mechanism to help us get closer — closer to ourselves, closer to the community, closer to God.
Rule No. 1 of the biblical sacrificial system: One cannot give something that belongs to someone else. We must give up something meaningful of our own. Cain (early Book of Genesis) brought cheap grains, and his offering was not accepted.
Rule No. 2: One must give for the sake of oneself, as well as for the community. While some of the sacrifices were wholly burnt, some were used to feed the Kohanim, for they had no land and no way to care for themselves. Kohanim served the community in the Temple in exchange for gifts. Of course, in later times, aspects of the system became corrupted, but its principals are still important.
The sacrifices ultimately were replaced with prayer and tzedakah. Maimonides (Rambam), the medieval Jewish rationalist, argued that God always held sacrifice inferior to prayer and philosophical meditation, and that God’s decision to allow sacrifices was a concession to human psychological limitations.
It would have been too much to have expected the Israelites to leap from pagan worship to prayer and meditation in one step. In contrast, many others, such as Nachmanides or Ramban of the 13th century, contended that sacrifices are an ideal in Judaism, completely central. Is there a way for both to be right?
Through the Hebrew root, I understand that one cannot come close to anything without giving up something personal. Any significant relationship we develop rests on giving. Of course, we might also be recipients and benefit from it, and of course, we want it to be reciprocal, but our love and attachment grow based on what we give, not receive. If you doubt this, think of parenthood.
There are two lakes in Israel, Yam Kinneret and Yam Hamelach. The first, the Sea of Galilee, receives and gives (it is the origin of the main water channel of Israel), and its water is sweet. The latter, known as the Dead Sea, only has water flowing in. Without an outlet, it slowly suffocates and dries.
This principal has not changed. Once upon a time, a sacrifice meant taking the choice of the cattle and offering it at the Temple. Now it might mean taking time and resources for prayer, for the community, for tzedakah. Whatever it is, the challenge remains, and it’s much more than a game.
Michal Kohane is the director of the Israel Center of the S.F.-based Jewish Community Federation. She has served in leadership roles throughout Northern California and holds advanced degrees in studies of Israel, psychology and education. She can be reached at [email protected].