Reflections on the Book of Leviticus

By Martin Sicker

The theme that unifies the diverse contents of this biblical work is that of holiness, as the text asserts: Ye shall be holy; for I the Lord your God am holy (Lev. 19:2). The burden of the work is set forth guidelines as to how the children of Israel were to attain that goal. One of the great practical issues dealt with in Leviticus is the problem of connecting with the one and only God through the practice of a form of worship that is superficially similar to but at the same time radically different from the modes of worship practiced by the other peoples of the ancient world, which almost universally included sacrificial rites. Because it was extremely difficult for one to relate to a deity that could not be depicted graphically, sacrificial rites were also prescribed for the children of Israel as a concession to human weakness, but were designed in a manner to leave little if any room for human inventiveness, which if left unchecked would likely result in idolatrous practices. Accordingly, the ancient rites were infused with layers of detailed instructions and obscure symbolisms that make the text difficult to comprehend, while raising important ethical considerations that are an essential aspect of the biblical concept of holiness. This study explores some of the profound ideas that lie buried beneath the surface of this extremely complex biblical text.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Oct 28, 2013
• ISBN: 9781491827918

Martin Sicker

Dr. Martin Sicker is a writer and lecturer on the Middle East and Jewish history and religion. His is the author of 42 previous books including Reading Genesis Politically; The Trials of Abraham; The Ordeals of Isaac and Jacob; Aspects of Jewish Metarational Thought; The Exodus and the Reluctant Prophet; The Convocation at Sinai; The Theopolitical Discourses of Moses; and Pondering the Imponderable.

Book preview

Contents

Preface

1   Vayikra (1:1-5:26)

2   Tzav (6:1-8:36)

3   Shemini (9:1-11:47)

4   Tazria (12:1-13:59)

5   Metzora (14:1-15:33)

6   Aharei Mot (16:1-18:30)

7   Kedoshim (19:1-20:27)

8   Emor (21:1-24:23)

9   Behar (25:1-26:2)

10   Behukotai (26:3-27:34)

Appendix

References

Notes

About the Author

Preface

The third of the Five Books of Moses, the Torah, was traditionally known to the rabbis as Torat Kohanim (Book of the Priestly Code)¹ and is perhaps now best known by its Latin equivalent, Leviticus, which means ‘pertaining to the Levites.’ The name Leviticus, which seems to refer to the Levites rather than to the priests, probably derives from the Torah’s repeated references to the priests as hakohanim haleviyim or Levitical priests (Deut. 17:9, 18; 18:1), presumably to draw a clear distinction between the institutionalized priesthood, all of whom are direct descendants of Aaron the Levite, and the first-born sons of the other tribes and clans who previously performed priestly functions. The Hebrew name for the book in popular use today is Vayikra, which means, ‘and [He] called,’ referring to the very first word of the book.

The theme that unifies the diverse contents of this biblical work is that of holiness. That pervasive theme is set forth in the book by the assertion: Ye shall be holy; for I the Lord your God am holy (Lev. 19:2). The burden of the work is set forth guidelines as to how the children of Israel were to attain that goal. It has been suggested that "two concepts embody the primary message of Leviticus. First, the Israelites are one community (edah), united by a common destiny and by a holy way of life—as commanded by the Lord Himself… Second, the Israelites were granted the Promised Land as an eternal estate (ahuzzah) on condition that they follow the laws of God and remain faithful to His covenant. In Leviticus, the priests of Israel are instructed in the ways of holiness, and the Israelites are told what the Lord requires of them."²

One of the great issues dealt with in Leviticus is the problem of connecting with the one and only God through the practice of a form of worship that is superficially similar to but at the same time radically different from the modes of idolatrous worship practiced by the other peoples of the ancient world. The study of the origins of human worship has shown that animal sacrifice is an immemorial institution among virtually all races of men. It was therefore essential to raise this universal method of worship to a purely spiritual plane. This is done in Leviticus. All magic and incantation are banished from the sacrificial cult, and everything idolatrous or unholy is rigorously proscribed.³ As a practical matter, the sacrificial rites described in such great detail in Leviticus probably were set forth in that manner because, as the infamous incident of the Golden Calf made clear, it was extremely difficult to relate to a God that could not be depicted graphically nor worshipped in a tangible manner. However, although the sacrificial rites were prescribed as a concession to human weakness, those prescriptions left little if any room for human inventiveness, which if left unchecked would likely result in idolatrous practices. They were to be carried out precisely as stated, without additions, subtractions, or modifications. Accordingly, half the book of Leviticus is devoted to assuring that the sacrificial rites are carried out in a manner designed to enhance the holiness of the practice.

Because much of Leviticus is devoted to matters that have been of little practical relevance for some two millennia because of the destruction of the Temple of Jerusalem by the Romans and the cessation of the sacrificial rites, it is often difficult to grasp the underlying intent of some of these ancient biblical texts, which have become fodder for rampant conjecture, supposition, and mystical speculation. In this study of Leviticus, about which a virtual mountain of commentary has accumulated over many centuries, yet another attempt is being made to comprehend at least some of the ideas that lie buried beneath the layers of detailed instructions and obscure symbolism that make the text so difficult to comprehend.

Explaining the biblical text, which is written in the terse mode of expression typical of the Torah, presents a number of problems for the modern commentator, especially one writing in English. First of all, there is the problem of language. While there is an abundance of English translations currently available, every translation of necessity is also an interpretation, and for this reason I have resisted the temptation to add yet another translation of the texts. Ideally, the biblical text should be presented in its Hebrew version and the interpretation presented in English or any other language. However, because this is impractical for a work intended for readers who may not have adequate knowledge of the original language, I have chosen what I consider to be the least problematic of English translations currently available, principally because it is the most literal, notwithstanding that it may not be the easiest to read. Accordingly, passages cited from the Torah in this book are based on the King James Version as modified by the old Jewish Publication Society version, with further modifications introduced where deemed appropriate for purposes of clarification. Although some of the language used is now archaic it has the advantage of sharply differentiating between the biblical text and commentary. It also offers linguistic distinctions that tend to be blurred in modern English, especially with regard to the use of second person pronouns, which in modern English employ you and your for both singular and plural, whereas using thou and thy for the singular and you and your for the plural better capture the meaning of the Hebrew which does distinguish between the singular and the plural, and there are instances where the distinction is important to comprehension of the text. However, because every translation is also an interpretation, the translation employed is often problematic. Accordingly, wherever necessary, I will point out the difficulties that need to be resolved to capture what most likely is the intent of a particular verse or expression.

A second problem results from the fact that one can hardly construct a sensible analysis of a biblical text that has been studied almost to exhaustion over a period of more than two millennia without referring to the work of those who preceded him. The difficulty one encounters in doing this lies in the fact that there is little if any consensus among the commentators, ancient, medieval, or modern, as to the meaning or significance of the texts. To deal with this problem, on occasion I will propose alternate interpretations that reflect different but plausible approaches to the text, indicating my own preferences as appropriate.

A third problem concerns the wide number of differing interpretations of any given text that are available. Since it is not my purpose to compile a compendium of interpretations, it was necessary to set some parameters for inclusion, by mere mention or actual citation, irrespective of whether or not I agree with them. Accordingly, in this study I have elected to consider only those interpretations that expound or contribute to the understanding of the plain meaning of the given text. In other words, with rare exceptions, no consideration is given here to mystical, esoteric, or homiletic interpretations that tend to take a particular text out of its context for rhetorical purposes. I have also avoided any reference to source criticism, which, although of interest from both a literary and historical point of view, contributes little if anything to understanding the straightforward meaning of the texts as they have been transmitted through the ages to us. However, because of the importance of these texts to the unfolding of Jewish law as formulated by the Sages of the talmudic and midrashic literature, and their rabbinic successors, in a number of instances I have taken the liberty of illustrating how the precepts and other teachings presented in the biblical text were elaborated upon in the rabbinic literature. Regrettably, there also are a few biblical texts that seem to defy rational explanation, and I must leave attempts at their explication to others.

This problem in itself should not be too surprising when considering writings dating back centuries let alone millennia. Although it may be asserted that the biblical texts have eternal meaning and significance, it seems self-evident that those writings, to have survived the generation in which they first appeared, would of necessity had to be comprehensible to their readers, or more realistically to their listeners as these texts were read to them in the absence of many copies of such works in antiquity. It seems reasonable to suggest that if this had not been the case, those writings would have been ignored, and failing to be copied they would have soon disappeared. The problem for any subsequent reader is that language is dynamic and the meaning of words in one era may have very different connotations in another. The implication of this is that if one reads a passage of the Hebrew Bible, it may not mean the same thing in Modern or Medieval Hebrew as it did in Biblical Hebrew, even though the words literally may be the same.

Moreover, it is not only a question of the meaning attached to the individual words but also their connotation, that is, the idea that the words are being used to convey to the reader. How does one determine the meaning of a biblical word or phrase that does not appear self-evident in the context in which it is found? The usual method of doing so is by analogy to its use in other texts where its meaning is unambiguous, or by its similarity to words in cognate languages. Although this approach is by no means certain or flawless, it does represent an attempt to understand the text objectively, that is, what it conveyed to the reader of the period in which it was written. An alternative approach to the biblical texts is more subjective in nature, namely, that of asserting what the text is attempting to convey to its reader by its choice of language, not only by what it actually states but also what it may be understood as implying. These two alternate approaches, the objective or straightforward reading of the text, called the peshat and the subjective interpretive reading called derash in Hebrew respectively, can lead to very different understandings of the biblical word.

The ancient Sages and their successors were well aware of the intellectual dangers inherent in the subjective approach to the texts, which might not only involve exegesis, drawing out the author’s ideas from the text, but also eisegesis, reading one’s own ideas into the text. To prevent distorting the biblical text by failing to be appropriately circumspect in applying the subjective approach, they adopted the interpretive principle that although one may infer subtexts from a particular word or passage, the text itself never loses its objective meaning. In other words, they accepted the notion that a biblical text might contain layers of meaning that might be extruded from it in addition to its objective meaning, but not in place of it.

In a sense, the objective approach is historical in that it conveyed a particular meaning to the audience to which it was originally addressed. By contrast, the subjective approach is ahistorical, divorced from time and place, but perhaps containing a message for future generations. The interplay of these alternate approaches can also produce incompatible results that may prove to be troublesome, especially when the biblical texts being interpreted are legal in nature or have normative implications.

Finally, a word about sources used in the study. In approaching the biblical narrative, I initially drafted my impressions of what the texts were relating, without reference to any commentary, a process that left me with great gaps in my understanding and a host of questions. I then turned more or less systematically to the classic rabbinic commentaries imbedded in the talmudic and midrashic literature, as well as to a substantial number of major as well as minor commentaries on the biblical texts composed in both the medieval and modern periods, to fill the gaps. Unfortunately, there are very few contemporary commentators that do not seem to be obsessed with source criticism, which in my opinion has proved to have little if anything to contribute to an understanding of the traditional Hebrew text as it has come down to us since remote antiquity. As a result, I make scant reference to their very considerable body of work. As for philological deconstruction of the biblical texts, there is hardly a verse or word in the biblical texts that has not already been subjected to microscopic scrutiny in the vast rabbinic literature., and as has pointedly been remarked: The vessel of Scripture, afloat in the immense ocean of rabbinical dialectic, can hardly be endangered by the squalls of a few philologists who do not even know the vessel’s draught.⁴

The references listed at the end of the book reflect those works either cited in the book or those which led me to the interpretations considered in the following pages. As a matter of practice, whenever I found that an earlier commentator had already noted my own initial impression of a text, I have referenced that work. However, the reader should be aware that when I actually cite a commentator or a work, I do so for the most part because of the felicity of expression it reflects and not necessarily because I agree with the context in which the original statement was made. In other words, the context in which I use a citation may not conform to the actual view of the author or work cited, much as the biblical writer’s use of extraneous source material may have little or no correspondence to its original meaning or intent.

Finally, because of the volume and variety of material contained in Leviticus, it is difficult to find a way of sensibly dividing the book into discrete coherent sections for the benefit of the modern reader. Because there are some problems in this regard with the placement of breaks in the text in the commonly accepted chapter subdivisions of Scripture adopted in the medieval period, I have elected to follow traditional rabbinic practice and subdivide the work according to the named standard parshiot or sections of the text of the Torah as read in the synagogue throughout the annual cycle of weekly recitals of the texts that comprise the Pentateuch.

1

Vayikra

(1:1-5:26)

Prior to the completion of the Tabernacle, Moses had to ascend Mount Sinai to receive divine instruction; now it was to come from the Tent of Meeting, as it states: And there I will meet with thee, and I will speak with thee from above the ark-cover, from between the two cherubim which are upon the ark of the testimony, of all things which I give thee in commandment unto the children of Israel (Ex. 25:22). Accordingly, the text now begins with the conjunction and indicating continuity with the concluding passages of the book of Exodus that describe the completion of the Sanctuary and the placement of the altar accessible to the public in front of the Tent of Meeting that enclosed it: So Moses finished the work. Then the cloud covered the Tent of Meeting, and the glory of the Lord filled the tabernacle (Ex. 40:33-34).

1.1 And the Lord called unto Moses, and spoke unto him out of the Tent of Meeting, saying: 1.2 Speak unto the children of Israel, and say unto them: When any man of you bringeth an offering unto the Lord, ye shall bring your offering of the cattle, even of the herd or of the flock.

It has been pointed out that only on three occasions the text of the Torah specifically states that God called Moses, each of them momentous in terms of their implications. The first occurred at the burning bush, when Moses received the call to serve as the divine instrument in bringing about the liberation of the children of Israel from servitude (Ex. 3:4). The second occurred at Mount Sinai immediately prior to the revelation of the Decalogue and the Book of the Covenant (Ex. 19:3). The third occurred at this point, just prior to the revelation of the laws institutionalizing the worship of God, and laying the groundwork for the theocracy, in the original sense of the term, the rule of God. Why doesn’t the text simply say that God spoke to Moses? Why, in each of the preceding instances was Moses called before receiving the divine word? It has been suggested that, "Were God to simply speak to Moses, then God would be dictating and Moses would be receiving the dictation. By first calling to Moses, God creates a situation whereby God’s Presence has withdrawn inward to create room for Moses in the conversation. Moses can now be a partner, rather than a passive recipient. Thus, it becomes clear from the very first word that the content of this book is about relationships. God structures the relationship with Moses so that it is a partnership, one that can have true intimacy."⁵

As explained by the Sages of the talmudic era, the call to Moses was necessary because he believed that his mission that began with the revelation at the Burning Bush had now run its course. God now informed him that this was not the case, and that an even greater task awaited him than setting up the basis for a civil society. Now he was to be tasked with establishing an organized religion to serve as the basis for bringing the people closer to God through a systematized order of worship.⁶ As a modern commentator put it, as a result of the previous two calls, "the foundations of the nation have been laid and Moses… must now train the nation for its sacred role. He must now mold the people of Israel into a kingdom of Kohanim (priests) and a holy nation. The process of training the people morally and spiritually will leave its mark on them for all eternity, and that process begins here with God’s new call to Moses."⁷

The biblical text has made it quite clear that the laws of the Torah were revealed to Moses at both Sinai and from the Tabernacle, and that the reason for Moses now being called to the Tabernacle was to make it clear that all the laws of sacrifice were revealed there.⁸ It may be inferred from this commentary that the revelation of the laws of sacrifice took place not on Mount Sinai but only in the aftermath of the affair of the Golden Calf, implicitly suggesting that, if that unfortunate event had not taken place, it is quite possible that there would have been no need for sacrificial worship rites at all. Indeed, it has been argued that the entire sacral system described at great length in the biblical texts was established to deal with a fundamental problem exemplified in the section of the Torah presented and discussed in this chapter.

It is noteworthy that the opening words of the text, when any man of you bringeth an offering unto the Lord, presupposes that, in the absence of any prior instruction to offer sacrifices to the Lord, there will be people motivated to do so on their own initiative, out of an inherent sense of need for some sort of fellowship with the mysterious power that dominated their lives and the world in which they lived. It has been pointed out that in the biblical statement, the word adam, translated here as man, is not a term used to indicate gender and therefore would better be rendered as ‘person’ or ‘human being.’ Moreover, the word seems superfluous since the simple meaning of the text would remain the same if the word were omitted. Accordingly, it is suggested that the inclusion of the word meaning ‘human being’ intimates that what the text may be reflecting is the idea that the essence of the human being is his need, and his ability, to sacrifice. That is, only the human being among the creatures of the universe is aware of his own mortality, which is inevitable, and his only hope of continuity beyond the grave is to link himself to a being and a cause greater than he, which was there before he was born and which will be there after he dies… I may die, but to the extent that I devoted my life to causes that will not die, that live on, then I also live on. Sacrifice makes it possible to bathe in the light of eternity.⁹ Since this inherent need is universal, it would seem that the concern of the text is that those prepared to offer sacrifice do so in a manner that will distinguish what occurs in the Tabernacle from the practices at pagan sites of worship.

It should be understood from the outset that what follows concerning the various individual offerings that may be brought apply exclusively to sins contemplated or committed between man and God. With regard to transgressions that take place between man and man, sacrifices are of no avail. What is required in that regard is restitution, where it is feasible as in the case of theft or robbery, or the appropriate punishment in cases in which the damage cannot be repaired. In matters between man and God, there cannot be any restoration of the prior state of affairs; a sin against God is irreparable. The purpose of offering a sacrifice, accompanied by sincere repentance, is to assure that the sin will not be repeated in the future; it cannot and does not alter the past.¹⁰

It therefore is taken as a given that atonement can be granted only for sins committed in error and for those committed unknowingly. That the idea of a grant of atonement does not apply at all to deliberate acts is an obvious correlate of the idea that God has endowed man with the faculty of reason, which is inherently sufficient to prevent such transgressions. Accordingly, if one sins knowing that what he is doing is wrong, he should be punished in a manner commensurate with the character of his transgression. However, it is with regard to that which is hidden from man, which man’s reason cannot deal with effectively, that the entire sacral system has been constructed, including the Tabernacle, and later the Temple, the role of the priests and Levites and their prayers before the Ark of the Covenant, all of which are designed to enable the people to cope with the mysteries they cannot explain.¹¹ In other words, the whole ritual structure is intended to facilitate the wellbeing of the people, a notable societal goal, a prerequisite to the establishment of the moral and just society envisioned by the covenant. In this regard, it has been remarked: In a very real sense, the ancient Israelite system of sacrifice served the same function that psychotherapy serves today: Those of us plagued by feelings of guilt, shame, anxiety, depression, and other ‘sins’ harmful to our souls seek out women and men specially trained in the art of expiation, who for a sacrificial fee help us to surrender these burdens to God (or a Higher Power) and reach a new psychic balance.¹²

It may be asserted that the translation of the opening verse, vayikra el mosheh vayedaber YHVH eilav, as And the Lord called unto Moses, and spoke unto him, simply ignores the subtlety of the Hebrew text, which actually states, And he called unto Moses, and the Lord spoke unto him. With regard to the call to Moses, it has been suggested that it was necessary as a consequence of Moses’ humility. Considering that Moses had been deeply engaged in ongoing communications with God over a variety of matters, it might have been expected the present text would begin simply with and the Lord spoke unto him. Nonetheless, Moses did not presume to be on sufficiently familiar terms with God to simply enter uninvited into the Tabernacle that he had just finished constructing; hence the need for him to be given such an invitation to enter and receive the divine message.¹³

It also has been pointed out that the earlier text makes it clear that once the Tabernacle was completed God would communicate with Moses from above the Ark of the Covenant within the Holy of Holies, the clear implication being that the voice of God would be heard only within the Tent of Meeting. However, the text also states: And Moses was not able to enter into the Tent of Meeting, because the cloud abode thereon, and the glory of the Lord filled the Tabernacle (Ex. 40:35). But if this was the case, and Moses was outside the Tent, how would he hear the voice of God calling him? Evidently an exception to the rule had to be made in order to bring Moses into the Tent so that he could receive the divine communication. However, it may be suggested that, out of respect for the divine word, the biblical scribe did not want to call attention to the fact that this exception had to be made, and so the text was made to state simply, and he called unto Moses, without specifying to whom the pronoun he referred. Once Moses entered the Tent, the text could then say and the Lord spoke unto him.¹⁴ It is noteworthy, however, that the biblical scribe evidently also felt it necessary to signal that that there was an anomaly in the text with regard to the ‘call’ and did so by making the final letter a of the Hebrew term vayikra [and he called] noticeably smaller than the other letters, thereby calling attention to it.¹⁵ In this same regard, it has been pointed out that the cloud that hovered over the Tent of Meeting, indicating that the glory of the Lord filled the Tabernacle, also had to be lifted before the call came to Moses to enter the Tabernacle, which would not have been possible otherwise.¹⁶

A rather different explanation of the text has also been suggested as a plausible alternative. The Hebrew text states, vayedaber YHVH eilav me’ohel mo’ed, which is translated as, God spoke unto him out of the Tent of Meeting. However, the phrase me’ohel mo’ed can also be translated as about the Tent of Meeting. In other words, the text is simply saying that the revelation of instructions that Moses was to receive now concerned the rites that were to be conducted in the just completed Tabernacle.¹⁷

The significance of the wording of the Hebrew text from a theological standpoint, it has been suggested, is that it "probably meant to establish the speeches of God to Moses as the Word of God coming to Moses, and to prevent that misused misrepresentation which tries to change the Divine revelation to Moses into some kind of revelation in Moses, and either to put it on a par with all those imaginary visions of a so-called ecstasy, or simply as an inspiration coming from within a human being. In other words, the text is asserting that God’s word to Moses was purely and solely the speech of God. Not from within Moses, from without, it came to him, called him out of whatever train of thought he might be in at the moment, to listen to what God wished to say to him."¹⁸ The wording of the text also evokes the question of why it states and the Lord spoke unto him when it could simply have stated, And the Lord called unto Moses out of the Tent of Meeting, saying? Without going into the metarational question of whether the text is asserting that God speaks to Moses in a manner such that he actually hears the voice of God with his ears or rather with his mind, a question that is of particular importance with regard to the character of the revelation at Sinai, some commentators understand the text as asserting the former. In this case, the wording, and the Lord spoke unto him, should be understood as signifying that Moses alone acoustically heard the voice of God, which spoke unto him, notwithstanding that there were others, such as the officiating priests, within earshot in the Tabernacle that heard nothing, or at least heard no decipherable speech.¹⁹

Moses hears the voice of God speaking to him from within the Tabernacle with instructions concerning the protocols to be followed when a member of the public brings a korban to God. The word korban, translated as offering, derives from a root meaning ‘to bring near.’ The key underlying idea is that through the korban the one offering it is brought nearer to God through this act of worship, conceptually the diametric opposite to the role of offerings to pagan gods that are intended to assuage them and at the same time keep one’s distance from them. It has been argued, in this regard, The etymology of the Hebrew term preserves the purified theology of the Torah’s conception of sacrifice. The ancient Israelite cult was not intended to provide daily nourishment for the gods, who had created humanity to free them from that chore… For the Torah, it is humankind and not God who stands in need of sacrifices. Offered in the sacred precinct of God’s presence, sacrifices grant the individual and the community a means to approach God in joy and contrition, in fear and gratitude. They are a ladder of ascent which rests on the ground of morality.²⁰

The instructions in this section deal with the four categories of personal offerings that may be brought unto the Lord: shelamim, hatat, asham, and olah. The four categories, it has been suggested, reflect two distinct types of motivation, being either expressions of gratitude or devotion, or expressions of penitence.²¹ The first type is encompassed by shelamim, offerings brought in fulfillment of a vow, as thanksgiving for some personal benefit, or in celebration of a festival. The remaining three categories are of the second type, expressions of penitence. The hatat is offered for sins committed unwittingly through forgetfulness or error. The asham is brought as penance for the commission of sacrilege, making false oaths, and in cases where there is uncertainty as to whether a sin has actually been committed. The olah or burnt-offering, which is the only offering consumed in its entirety by flames upon the altar, is offered for sins of omission, for sinful thoughts, and for sins of commission for which the Torah does not describe a penalty. It has been suggested that the book begins with the protocols for personal sacrifices because it wishes to emphasize the concept of all the children of Israel being responsible for each other. By giving priority of attention to the offerings brought by individuals that are immediately transformed into public acts, the text implicitly asserts that private sins are matters of public concern.²² And by giving priority of place to the olah the text implicitly acknowledges that the motivating forces behind sinful actions are the stirrings of the heart and mind. The olah is offered as a token of one’s sincere desire to impose moral discipline on one’s conduct by reining in the sinful thoughts that lead to transgressions, and to seek atonement for past failures in this regard.²³ It also has been suggested that the olah, which literally means ‘to ascend,’ symbolically expresses the desire of the offerer to ascend to heaven, as does the smoke of his offering, and thereby symbolically connect more intimately with God. In this manner, the relationship between the offerer and God becomes "as close as is cosmically possible. The olah represents the kind of flaming passion in which the individual is totally consumed by the relationship with the other."²⁴

What is entirely absent from the Israelite sacrificial rite is the pagan notion of offering sacrifices to appease or curry favor with their gods.²⁵ In the view of the Sages, a deliberate sin cannot be expiated through sacrifices, but it can be expiated with Torah and charitable deeds.²⁶ Some modern critical scholarship suggests that "the olah was a signal to God that His worshippers desired to bring their needs to His attention; its purpose was to secure an initial response from Him."²⁷ However, this view neither necessarily negates nor conflicts with the concept of the olah as expiation for the sin of omission or of sinful thoughts, sins of which only a very rare person might be truly innocent. Moreover, none of the biblical examples cited in support of the contention, such as Elijah’s preparation of an olah as part of his confrontation with the priests of Baal (1 Kings 18), and Balaam’s attempt to invoke divine support against Israel (Num. 23:3-6), are relevant to the present text, which deals with voluntary sacrifices brought by individuals relating to their personal lives.

Much has been made in modern biblical scholarship of the fact that much if not most of the sacrificial rites described in the biblical texts seems to have been drawn from the antecedent practices of the nations and peoples of the ancient Near East, thus implicitly disparaging the lack of originality in ancient Israelite worship. But the fact is, as some scholars have clearly recognized, if those ancient practices were not already familiar to the Israelites the entire biblical sacrificial rite would have been pointless. In fact, as one writer put it, "as far as names, forms and rites are concerned, there is no sacrifice in Israel for which a pagan origin could not be traced… but it is important not to lose sight of the fact that all the borrowed elements and ideas are referred to Yahweh [a common arbitrary articulation of the ineffable name YHVH], the God of Israel."²⁸ What the biblical texts did was transform sacrifice from the familiar attempt to propitiate the gods, that is, to bribe the forces of nature with gifts in the hope of obtaining favorable treatment, an interchange that was inherently magical, into something rather different, into signs of atonement, gratitude to and dependence upon the one and only God that has no need or use for such gifts.

In this regard it has been argued that because it is not possible to eliminate such forms of worship, indeed, without sacrifice as a mode of worship the world as we knew it in antiquity could not have been sustained. Ancient custom had habituated them to worship demons and unclean spirits, sacrificing to them, and to the vain idolatry of the celestial bodies and signs; and as custom becomes a second nature, if the Lord had entirely prohibited sacrifice, the utmost difficulty would have been experienced in Israel’s obeying it… they would have considered it an infraction of all propriety in the due observance of worship to God, and would have repudiated the idea of any contrary mode of service.²⁹ Accordingly it was necessary to command that Israel worship in this manner to forestall their engaging in such worship to pagan gods, notwithstanding the prophet Jeremiah’s assertion of the divine word, I spoke not unto your fathers, nor commanded them in the day that I brought them out of the land of Egypt, concerning burnt-offerings or sacrifices (Jer. 7:22). Given that a major portion of the Torah is concerned precisely with such worship, the prophet’s words must not be taken out of context but understood as asserting that none of such worship is valid unless it is done with the intention of serving God, in the expectation that such properly intentioned worship will lead to the love, awe, and knowledge of God. Viewed from this perspective, it becomes evident that the key to a valid sacrifice is the intention of the offerer.³⁰ As Jeremiah stated further in the cited text, but this thing I commanded them, saying: Hearken unto My voice, and I will be your God, and ye shall be My people; and walk in the way that I command you, that it may be well with you (Jer. 7:23). To the extent that the sacrificial mode of worship contributes to this goal, it serves a positive purpose. However, to permit the sacrificial mode of worship and simultaneously to prevent it being misconstrued as merely worship of another god in the pagan pantheon, it was necessary to distinguish between the sacrificial rite in the Tabernacle and any pagan rite by assuring that it differed in every aspect from the latter.³¹

The distinguishing feature of heathen worship is its acceptance of the belief that man’s destiny is entirely in the control of external forces that may be appeased through gifts. By contrast, biblically prescribed worship is predicated on man’s moral autonomy and freedom to accept or reject compliance with the divine covenant and its prescriptions. Thus, although the heathen and Israelite burnt-offerings are both completely dedicated to heaven, albeit very different in intention and purpose, the superficial similarity of worship ends there. Heathen worship knows nothing of sin-offerings or guilt-offerings, which are wholly predicated on the presumption of man’s moral autonomy and his ability to alter the pattern of his life through penitence and the sincere desire to atone for his sins.³² And for this reason, to make the distinction between heathen and Israelite worship as clear as possible, the sacrificial protocols were set forth in great detail, from which any deviance, addition, subtraction, or modification, was deemed unacceptable.

In response to criticism of the prescribed sacrificial rites that entailed the slaughter of innocent animals as arbitrary cruelty inconsistent with the humanity of biblical civil legislation, the following explanation was offered more than a millennium ago.

One might think frivolously of the Bible on account of the precepts pertaining to the sacrifices, either because they order the slaughtering of beasts or the shedding of blood and [the offering up] of fat. I might make this a little more comprehensible by saying that the Creator had decreed that every living thing must die. Accordingly, He apportioned to every human being his allotted lifetime, whereas the period of life of the beasts was made by Him to extend until the time when they would be slaughtered, setting up slaughter in their case in place of death. Should their slaughtering, however, entail pain over and above that which is experienced in natural death, God would be fully aware of it and He would, of course, in such an event compensate the beasts in accordance with the excess of the pain.³³

Moses is instructed to speak unto the children of Israel about the sacrificial protocols, that is, to the people as a whole rather than just to the priesthood that is to manage the rite. There was to be nothing secretive about the sacrificial proceedings in which the community both individually and collectively was involved; no mystery revealed only to the select few. These opening words expose the gaping chasm that separates Israel from its neighbors, in that from Egypt to Mesopotamia the common people had little, if any, access to the religious sanctuaries, nor were they informed regarding the rites that took place there.³⁴ By contrast, the Sanctuary was the property of the entire people, who had all of them, men and women, young and old, voluntarily and generously contributed the materials for its construction.³⁵ In a way, it was also a reminder to the officiating priests that they are primarily functionaries whose purpose is to facilitate public worship, and not to be intercessors between the children of Israel and their God; they were not intended to be a sacral elite modeled after the Egyptian priesthood.

The text clearly ordains, when any man of you bringeth an offering unto the Lord, ye shall bring your offering of the cattle, even of the herd or of the flock. In the context of the time when this commandment was revealed, aside from the many implications of the wording, to be discussed below, there is one implication that seems most obvious. If the children of Israel require the authorization to worship God through the offering of sacrifices, in a manner similar to that by which the surrounding cultures worship their gods, then it must be made very clear that all such sacrifices of living beings must be of cattle, that is, animals of the herd or of the flock, and never of another human being—human sacrifice being abhorrent to God.³⁶ As it states later, with regard to the man that giveth of his seed unto Moloch . . . I will set My face against that man (Lev. 20:4-5).

The wording, when any man of you bringeth an offering, is ambiguous because the Hebrew word adam, translated as any man, would be better rendered as a ‘person’ or ‘human.’ In this regard it may be observed that the text here speaks of adam, but then speaks of nefesh, a ‘soul’ or ‘person’ (2:1), and then uses the term ish or ‘man’ (7:8), all in the context of sacrifices. It has been suggested that this may have been done to establish a conceptual connection with the creation narrative in which the same sequence of terms appears in Gen. 1:26, 2:7, and 2:23, thus linking creation and sacrifice. Creation produces life. Sacrifice takes life. And so the word order here subtly reminds us that, when we take animals’ lives in order to support our own, we should remember that both their lives and ours are part of a common creation, and that both are treated in the Torah as sacred.³⁷

The interpolation by the translator of the word any in the text is both superfluous and possibly misleading, imputing a universalistic aspect to the text that far transcends its context. It has been pointed out in this regard, notwithstanding some of the expansive interpretations offered by the Sages, the text is clearly addressed to the children of Israel and, beyond this obvious fact, as discussed further below, offering a sacrifice goes hand in hand with the placement of hands on the head of the animal and a concomitant confession, something that applies exclusively to the children of Israel.³⁸

The text may be understood as saying ‘when a person,’ which would not necessarily limit its applicability to men to the exclusion of women. The Sages, however, read the text in a different manner, suggesting that the use of generic term adam, understood as referring to human beings, instead of the more limiting phrase ‘children of Israel,’ was intended to broaden the application of the instruction in order to include alien residents along with the native-born children of Israel.³⁹ Indeed, the text later appears to make this point explicitly when it states: Whosoever he be of the house of Israel or of the strangers in Israel, that bringeth his offering . . . unto the Lord for a burnt-offering (23:18). This makes the relevant criterion a person’s faith and not the accident of one’s birth. Accordingly, an offering of the type under discussion in this passage is completely acceptable from a gentile that evidently acknowledges the one and only God, in order to encourage him to abandon any residual pagan beliefs and practices. However, it has been pointed out that the text should not be read as suggesting that gentiles might actually participate in the sacrificial rite, because no one who was not circumcised would be permitted to do so. Thus, although their offering would be welcome it would have to be brought on their behalf by an acceptable intermediary, and for this reason those aspects of the rite, as discussed below, that were to be performed by the offerer such laying hands on the animal surrogate and offering confession would of necessity be omitted.⁴⁰

A rather different significance was later attached by some to the use of the term adam in the text. "The term ‘man’ (adam) excludes one who is not married, his offering being no offering and blessings not resting on him, either above or below. For he is deficient and is called ‘blemished’, and nothing blemished may approach the altar."⁴¹ The logic of this argument is that if the animal that is brought to the altar must be unblemished, it is reasonable to conclude that the one who is offering it as a sacrifice must also be without blemish, and that since woman was brought into being to complement man, as it states, It is not good that man should be alone: I will make him a help meet for him (Gen. 2:18), the man who is not married is missing his counterpart and is therefore incomplete—blemished. As this argument was further elaborated, "Only a married man can bring a sacrifice and have it accepted by God. If a person is not married, he is not considered an adam—man—and it is not fitting that he bring a sacrifice to God. His sacrifice is disgusting in God’s Eyes because he is distant from the Divine Presence."⁴²

Another approach to the text considers the term adam to be the equivalent of the Yiddish term mentsh, that is, a decent human being in every respect. Accordingly, the text adam ki yakriv mikem korban laYHVH, which might better be translated as a man that offers a sacrifice of you to the Lord, effectively presupposes that the person making the offering is an adam, that is, a mentsh. Thus, a man who makes an offering to God is by definition a human of higher level than one that does not make such an offering, the distinguishing factor between an adam and one who is not an adam, is that the adam is one who offers sacrifices.⁴³ In other words, the adam is a person who acknowledges that there is a God to whom he is accountable and from whom he must seek atonement not only for his sins of omission but also for the stirrings within him that, unless suppressed or controlled, will lead to sins of commission.

The Sages read of you or better ‘from among you’ as referring to one who shares your religious conviction, regardless of parentage, thereby excluding those native-born children of Israel that rejected the covenant, and thus effectively became apostates.⁴⁴ This view is captured in the terse parsing of the text, "of you, but not all of you, thus excluding an apostate. Of you, that is, among you [Israelites] does this distinction apply but not among other nations."⁴⁵ In other words, a sacrificial offering that satisfies the criteria stipulated below is perfectly acceptable from a non-Israelite that chooses to acknowledge God in this manner, while that of an apostate is to be rejected. The rationale for this, it has been suggested, is that to accept the sacrifice of an apostate would in effect transform the altar dedicated to God into something unrelated to God.⁴⁶ The phrase from you has also been understood as saying, in effect, a person who wishes to offer an animal as a sacrifice must first bring himself as a sacrifice. He must slaughter the Evil Urge and get rid of his bad traits by repenting; only then may he bring a sacrifice… First you must humble yourself and repent and only then will your sacrifice be truly a ‘sacrifice to god’—acceptable before God.⁴⁷

On a more prosaic level, it has been suggested that of you may simply mean that the animal to be offered is actually the property of the donor, who in effect is giving up something that represents value to him.⁴⁸ In this regard, the text may also be interpreted as a caution against using misappropriated property as offerings. Man (Adam) alludes to the first Adam. The Holy One, blessed be He, said to Israel: Let your offering be like the offering of Adam, who, since all things were in his ownership, offered not anything acquired by robbery or violence, so you, too, offer not anything acquired by robbery or violence.⁴⁹ Although it seems reasonable to assume that this interpretation was offered in response to what the later author saw as a problem within his community, it is nonetheless plausible that it was a concern in biblical times as well.

The statement when any man of you bringeth an offering clearly presupposes that the offering of sacrifices was already an accepted form of worship even though it was not specifically explicated as such. Thus it was observed: In the Pentateuch, the sacrificial ritual is indeed copiously described, but nowhere… is its significance formally explained; this is treated as on the whole self-evident and familiar to every one.⁵⁰ Indeed, it has been argued, it was necessary for sacrifice as a mode of worship to be adopted by the Torah because it was inconceivable that people would respect their god if he or she were to be treated as inferior to their human lords, to whom it was necessary to show obeisance and fealty through gifts.⁵¹ Moreover, the phrase when any man of you bringeth an offering has also been understood as emphasizing voluntary offerings, not offerings required by the Torah, the word mikem or of you indicating that the offering is being brought by you on your own initiative.⁵² However, even though voluntary the offering must satisfy the stipulated parameters. In this regard, it is noteworthy that "in Hebrew the word order of the sentence is strange and unexpected. We would expect to read: adam mikem ki yakriv, ‘when one of you offers a sacrifice.’ Instead what it says is adam ki yakriv mikem, ‘when one offers a sacrifice of you.’ The essence of sacrifice… is that we offer ourselves. We bring to God our faculties, our energies, our thoughts and emotions. The physical form of sacrifice—an animal offered on the altar—is only an external manifestation of an inner act. The real sacrifice is mikem, ‘of you.’ We give God something of ourselves."⁵³

First, ye shall bring your offering of the cattle, the term behemah, translated as cattle, generally indicates a domestic quadruped animal, and therefore something that would represent an actual sacrifice of property for the donor. That is, for a sacrifice to be meaningful it must represent something of value to the donor, something in which he has invested time and effort, as well as resources, an animal which the donor considers his personal property. By definition this would exclude wild animals of any kind, which are generally designated as hayot or beasts, also including those wild but non-predatory animals considered suitable for consumption (Deut. 14:5-6). Even though one might hunt them for the purposes of offering them as sacrifices, they cannot be considered the donor’s property, and therefore would not reflect the idea of actually sacrificing something of significant personal value as a sign of one’s sincerity and commitment.⁵⁴ It also has been suggested that the exclusion of wild animals for sacrificial purposes was not because of any disdain of them, since they are after all creatures created by God. Their rejection is rather because of God’s unwillingness to cause excessive hardship on those wishing to bring an offering by permitting the use of wild animals unlikely to be in their possession.⁵⁵ As the Sages put it, God says: I did not put you to any trouble and I did not bid you weary yourselves among the mountains in order to bring a sacrifice unto Me from those that are not in your domain, but I asked only from those that are in your domain, from that which was reared upon your own crib.⁵⁶ The implicit presumption of this argument is that if wild animals were allowed it might create an unwarranted and unwanted dangerous delusion that the wilder and more ferocious the animal the greater would be its acceptability as an atonement offering.

Moreover, as read by the Sages, the text also makes it clear that not all domestic quadruped animals are acceptable as sacrifices. In a style repeated many times in the Torah, the text first stipulates a general proposition, ye shall bring your offering of the cattle, and follows with the statement, of the herd or of the flock, which, according to the rules of biblical exegesis adopted by the Sages,⁵⁷ should be understood as exemplifying the hermeneutic principle, kelal u-ferat, that is, when a general statement is followed by a specific, the law is applied only to that which conforms to the specific.⁵⁸ In other words, when the text says the offering should be of a domestic animal and then states of the herd or of the flock, the law should be understood as intending that the domestic animals appropriate for the sacrifice must be exclusively of the herd or of the flock, thus excluding all other domestic quadrupeds such as horses, camels, dogs, and cats. It also has been suggested that the underlying rationale for using an animal as a sacrifice is that the animal serves as a metaphor for the natural drives and urges in man resulting from his animal nature. Thus, in honor of God, let him show that he is ready to burn the animal instincts within his own nature. Second, he should choose the type of behemah that best reflects his self-perception of the animal nature in him, but only of the herd or of the flock. That choice is therefore left to the decision of the donor. If he sees himself as a bull, let him determine to suppress his inclination toward aggressiveness and violence; if he sees himself as a sheep, let him suppress his passivity and sloth and become more dynamic and engaged.⁵⁹ An implication of this is that the type of sacrifice offered is intrinsically of little significance or even interest to God.⁶⁰ The sacrifices are intended to help man find an appropriate means of seeking communion with God; God does not need them, man does.

It has been observed that the text begins in the singular, when any man of you bringeth an offering and then concludes in the plural, ye shall bring your offering. The implication of this change, it has been asserted, is to suggest that two or more persons may elect to bring an offering in partnership.⁶¹ Presumably this was intended to allow some who individually could not afford the stipulated offering to share the cost with others. Another interpretation suggests that the transition from the singular to the plural in this text signifies that even an individual sacrifice is, to a certain extent, a public sacrifice in which all Israel have a part.⁶² In effect, this suggests that the text is implicitly asserting that any private act done in public thereby becomes a matter of the public interest, furthering or detracting from its moral stature. However, according to another interpretation, this change in the text from the second person singular to the plural suggests a rather different significance. In this view, the text is speaking of a single individual bringing an offering but then switches to the plural as an allusion to the story of Cain and Abel, who both brought offerings to God and who both also made critical errors in so doing, as a cautionary tale against repeating their errors. Cain’s error consisted in his bringing of the fruit of the ground (Gen. 4:3) whereas for the sins he harbored as a living being he should have brought as a sacrifice something that also was a living being, an animal. Abel, on the other hand, brought of the firstlings of his flock (Gen. 4:4), the proper sort of sacrifice, but did so only because Cain had brought a sacrifice. In other words, his proper sacrifice was intrinsically improper and invalid because it was offered without the proper intention. It was noted further than it was only out of divine concern for the poor, as discussed below, that a non-animal sacrifice was deemed acceptable from the poor, but not from any others.⁶³

However, the story of the sacrifices brought by Cain and Abel has also been interpreted in a rather different manner. It was not the quality of Cain’s offering that made it unacceptable, but something far more fundamental, namely, that no offering is acceptable if it is not accompanied by sincere repentance. And repentance is not merely regret for sins committed but a determination not to allow them to be repeated in the future. In the case of Cain, there clearly was no repentance in this sense. He brought his offering because of his anger at Abel, and subsequent to this nominal act of repentance proceeded to kill his brother. It was for this reason that the omniscient God rejected his offering—it was not accompanied by a sincere commitment to control his feelings and change his conduct.⁶⁴

The question that remains to be addressed is why the offering may only be of the herd or of the flock, that is, bovines, sheep, and goats, and no other species. One response of the Sages was that they were chosen in commemoration of the Patriarchs. Thus, with regard to Abraham it was written, And Abraham ran unto the herd and fetched a calf tender and good (Gen. 18:7); with regard to Isaac, whose sacrifice was stopped by God, it was written, And Abraham went and took the ram, and offered him up for a burnt-offering in the stead of his son (Gen. 22:13); and with regard to Jacob, whose mother Rebecca sought to secure his father’s blessing for him, it was written that she instructed him, Go now to the flock, and fetch me from thence two good kids of the goats (Gen. 27:9).⁶⁵

From a more prosaic perspective, it has been argued that these kinds of animals were chosen for the following reasons: the Egyptians used to worship the sign of Aries and that they therefore forbade the slaughter of sheep… Similarly certain sects of the Sabians worshipped the jinn and believed that they assumed the outward forms of goats, and offered sacrifices to such satyrs, a practice that the text informs us was in vogue in Moses’ time, as it states: And they shall no more sacrifice their sacrifices unto the satyrs [se’irim], after whom they go astray (Lev. 17:7). Hence these sects also used to prohibit the eating of goats. As for the slaughter of oxen, nearly the majority of idolaters abominated it, as all of them held this species in very great esteem… Thus it was in order to efface the traces of these incorrect opinions that we have been ordered by the Law to offer in sacrifices only these three species of quadrupeds… over and beyond the fact that these are also domestic species that are numerous, not as is the case in the cults of the idolaters who sacrifice lions, bears, and other wild animals.⁶⁶

The Olah (Burnt Offering or Elevation Offering of a Bovine)

The text begins with instructions regarding the olah, by which the offerer is to be brought near unto the Lord by the total consummation of the olah by fire on the altar. One of the Sages called attention to the fact that whenever sacrifices are spoken of in this portion of the Torah they are designated exclusively as offerings unto the Lord, that is, to YHVH. Alternate names for God such as Elohim or El are not employed so as not to give sectarians any occasion to rebel.⁶⁷ By employing the Tetragrammaton, which is the unique name of God, the text implicitly makes clear that no sacrifices are to be dedicated to God by names that might also be used by other religions, thus undercutting the possible inference from the biblical text of support for a belief in the existence of multiple deities. Alternatively, it has been suggested that the reason for the exclusive use of the Tetragrammaton in connection with the sacrifices rather than Elohim is because in rabbinic tradition the latter name is considered to reflect the divine attribute of