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PARASHAT
VAYIKRA
Rav David
Silverberg
One of the sacrifices described in Parashat Vayikra is the par ha'alem davar shel tzibur, a sacrifice offered by the entire nation in cases where the Sanhedrin (supreme rabbinic authority) issued a mistaken ruling which resulted in a widespread Torah violation. Even though the blame in such a case clearly lies with the scholars of the Sanhedrin, who issued an erroneous ruling albeit due to an honest mistake the responsibility for offering the sacrifice rests upon the nation as a whole.
Why should all Am Yisrael bear responsibility for a mistake made by the Sanhedrin?
Rav Reuven Bulka addresses this question in his work Torah Therapy (p. 59):
A gross communal error due to a mistake by
the Sanhedrin nevertheless creates a communal obligation for atonement. The leaders lead, they make sacrifices,
they take risks, hopefully for the sake of the community. The community must realize the pain
involved in leadership. If,
perchance, they are misled, they are conditioned not to blame their leaders but
themselves. This creates a healthy
situation in which the community acknowledges its debt to those who guide
it. What is one error in the
background of so much self-sacrifice, dedication, and
service?
In other words, this obligation is intended
to prevent the automatic response of finger-pointing whenever a mistake
occurs. One of the inherent
problems of leadership is that it allows the constituency to shirk itself of
accountability whenever something goes wrong. People often fail to appreciate the
complexities and sacrifices entailed in leadership, and thus blame the leaders
unforgivingly for every oversight and misjudgment. The Torah sought to "condition" (in Rav
Bulka's words) the people to avoid this instinctive response by casting upon
them a certain degree of responsibility for the mistakes of their
leadership. (Of course, this
applies only when the leadership generally acts responsibly and with the best
interests of the constituency in mind.
As Rav Bulka writes, "The communal sin-offering is only possible with a
leadership which leads and a community which
appreciates.")
This concept can easily be applied to any relationship or
partnership. When two people work
together, there are invariably occasions when one makes a mistake that hampers
the joint endeavor. The instinctive
reaction of the other partner is to accuse the other of irresponsibility and
negligence, and become angry and resentful. The lesson of the par he'elam davar shel tzibur is that of the joint responsibility borne
by the various partners of an enterprise.
For the partnership to be successful, the partners must be prepared to
take a degree of accountability for each other's mistakes, rather than reacting
to every mishap with angry accusations and criticism.
******
We read in Parashat Vayikra (2:13) of the obligation to add salt to every korban mincha (meal offering) brought upon the altar, an obligation which the Torah describes as a berit a "covenant." Rashi, based on the Midrash, explains that when God separated the waters at the time of creation (Bereishit 1:7), He made a "covenant," so-to-speak, with the waters on the earth, promising to allow them the opportunity to rise to the heavens. This is accomplished through the addition of ocean salt to meal offerings brought upon the altar, and the water libations (nisukh ha-mayim) poured onto the altar during Sukkot.
It is possible that this Midrash speaks of the "lower waters" as an allegory representing the human soul, which, at the time of a person's birth, is separated from its source and sent down to earth. The soul's earthly existence inside a physical body appears, at first glance, to condemn it to a far lower level of existence than its previous condition. While residing in a body the soul is necessarily bound to the earthly needs and desires of the body, and thus cannot possibly retain its pristine, spiritual quality. Like the earthly waters, the soul trapped in a body yearns to return to its source, to its "heavenly" origins, where it enjoyed close and direct contact with the Almighty.
The Midrash instructs that the "lower waters" are indeed reunited with the "upper waters," through the medium of the altar, through the notion of sacrifice, of devoting oneself to the service of God. The soul is not condemned to an earthly existence; it reunites with the upper world if the individual lives a life of religious devotion, rather than a life defined by the endless pursuit of physical enjoyment and gratification.
A number of commentators (including Siftei Chakhamim and the Maharal of Prague) questioned why, according to the Midrash, God did not simply require water libations throughout the year. Wouldn't this serve as a more effective means of "returning" the water to their heavenly source?
Rav Yaakov Kaminetzky, in his Emet Le-Yaakov, suggests that God chose to require offering salt, rather than ocean water itself (except during Sukkot), because the water does, in fact, ascend to the heavens, through the process of evaporation. The water's salt is the element that remains behind, that appears incapable of ever being elevated to the heavenly sphere. God wanted to demonstrate that even that element which seems permanently consigned to an earthly existence has the ability of rising to the heavens through the medium of the altar.
Rav Yaakov added in this context an insight that closely relates to the construct developed above. The salt's "ascent" to the heavens through its inclusion in the sacrificial process represents the possibility of elevating all parts of existence to a higher level of meaning and purpose. Religious observance extends to all areas of life, even those that appear like the ocean's salt confined to the realm of the earthly and mundane and it demands the involvement of the entirety of a person's being. Even the "salt" of our existence is to be included in our "sacrifice," in our lifelong service of God, whereby we transcend our earthly existence and allow the soul to return to its heavenly origins.
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The third verse of Parashat Vayikra introduces the requirement that any animal brought as a sacrifice must possess the quality of tamim "complete." Later in Sefer Vayikra (chapter 22), the Torah lists the various physical blemishes that render an animal unfit as a sacrifice, and establishes a prohibition against offering such an animal upon the altar. The Gemara in Masekhet Bekhorot (39a) concludes that the tamim requirement extends further than the prohibition against offering a blemished animal. Namely, whereas the aforementioned list includes only external flaws, the requirement of tamim extends even to mechusar eiver mi-bifnim an animal missing a certain internal organ. Even though one does not transgress the prohibition by offering an animal missing an internal organ, such an animal is nevertheless deemed unacceptable as a sacrifice.
Rav Shimshon Refael Hirsch, in his Torah commentary, explains the
symbolic significance of this requirement of tamim, which demands both external and internal
perfection:
So that for each and every aspect of our
relation to God which is to be expressed by an offering, "completion," i.e. the
demand for the application of the whole of oneself to that aspect, is the first and
most indispensable condition
Anything missing of the living creature which is
to express our relation to God would give the idea of
excluding this missing organ, and thereby the sphere of our life which this
organ serves to represent, from our relation to God, and from our giving
ourselves up to Him in that particular sphere. We should not be giving ourselves up
completely to the bond with our God as we should, with every particle of our
being and in every sphere of our life.
We are making some reserve, keeping something back. But as certain as it is that the most
immediate result of our conception of the achdut [unity] of God is the completeness with
which we give ourselves up to Him
so certain is it that the very smallest, the
slightest keeping back of any part of ourselves and our lives as being excluded
from our relation to God is a denial of His Oneness.
As the sacrificial offering represents the concept of our devotion to the Almighty, the absence of any organ be it external or internal would leave the impression that the aspect of our being signified by that organ is excluded from this devotion. The requirement of tamim thus relates to the all-encompassing nature of avodat Hashem, the obligation we bear to devote ourselves entirely to the service of God. Just as every part of the animal must be present and intact for it to qualify as a sacrifice, so must each and every part of our body and soul be included in our religious devotion.
******
The first category of sacrifices discussed in Parashat Vayikra is the ola, which is characterized by the offering of the entire animal upon the altar. (This is as opposed to other sacrifices, part of which is eaten by the kohanim and, in the case of the shelamim, by the individual bringing the offering.) In the case of a bird ola, we are told, the bird's wings, feathers and all, are placed upon the altar along with the rest of the bird. Rashi, citing the Midrash (Vayikra Rabba 3:5), notes the significance of this halakha:
Is it not true that not even an ordinary person cannot smell the odor of burnt wings without being repulsed? So why does the verse state that it should be offered [upon the altar]? In order that the altar will be satiated and beautified with the offering of a poor person.
Placing birds' wings on the altar's fire results in an offensive odor, but the Torah nevertheless insisted on including the wings in the interest of giving honor to the poor man. Generally speaking, it was the underprivileged individual, who could not afford a bull or sheep, who would choose to offer an inexpensive bird sacrifice. The Sages in a number of contexts emphasized the particular affection God exhibits, as it were, towards the sacrificial offerings of the poor, and He thus wanted the entire offering including the wings placed upon the altar due to the special quality of this sacrifice.
This passage perhaps teaches the importance of sacrificing one's own honor for the sake of giving honor to somebody else. Often, an encounter with a person of lesser "stature" provides one with the opportunity to feel important and distinguished. If among his peers an individual feels threatened by their accomplishments, in the company of a less successful person he can enjoy a sense of distinction. The bird offering, however, instructs that we give honor and respect to all people, even at the expense of our own honor. God welcomes even the putrid smell of a bird offering upon His altar in order to demonstrate His admiration and affection for the pauper bringing the sacrifice. Similarly, we are bidden to give others respect even when this results in the diminishing of our own honor, and to sacrifice our egos in the interest of lifting the spirits and enhancing the self-esteem of our despondent fellow.
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In Parashat Vayikra the Torah introduces the prohibition of se'or u-dvash, which forbids placing leaven or nectar with one's offering on the altar (2:11). The Torah presents this law amidst its discussion of the korban mincha, or meal offering, which consisted of grain. This halakha requires that the mincha be prepared in unleavened form, and be devoid of any nectar and the like.
The Torah makes an exception in the case of korban reishit
literally, "a first offering" which may include leaven or nectar (2:12). Rashi explains this term as a reference
to the shetei ha-lechem offering brought on Shavuot, and bikkurim
the first fruits brought to the Mikdash. The shetei ha-lechem offering
included two loaves of bread produced from the new crop of wheat, and was
extraordinary in that it was offered as chametz, after the leavening
process. The bikkurim, of course, were fruits, and fruits would
normally be forbidden as an offering because of the prohibition against offering
nectar. The Torah nevertheless
makes an exception and allows these fruits to be offered as part of the
mitzva of bikkurim.
A number of writers raised the question of why, according to Rashi, the
Torah found it necessary to make an exception in the case of
bikkurim, which is not truly a sacrificial offering. None of the fruits brought for
bikkurim were burnt upon the altar; they were eaten entirely by the
officiating kohanim. What, then, does Rashi mean when he
writes that the Torah excluded bikkurim from the prohibition of se'or u-dvash?
As these fruits are not offered upon the altar, how is the prohibition of
se'or u-dvash relevant to this
ritual?
The likely answer, as discussed by Rav Avraham Yitzchak Sorotzkin in his
Rinat Yitzchak, is that the prohibition of se'or
u-dvash is not restricted to offerings that are burnt upon the
altar. Rather, it extends even to
anything placed upon the altar such as bikkurim. As the Rambam explicitly mentions
(Hilkhot Bikkurim 3:12), the farmer bringing bikkurim would place the
fruits on the southwestern corner of the altar. It would appear that although the kohen would subsequently take the fruits and
distribute them among the other kohanim, the bikkurim would, in principle, nevertheless be
subject to the prohibition of se'or u-dvash.
Rashi therefore explained that when the Torah makes an exception for a
korban reishit, it refers even to nectar-laden fruits
brought as bikkurim.
Rav Sorotzkin notes that this principle will also affect the issue of
nesakhim libations poured over the altar. The wine (or, on Sukkot, the water)
poured as nesakhim was not burnt on the altar; it rather flowed
through a pipe down into the drainage system beneath the Beit Ha-mikdash. If, as Rashi's comments imply, the
prohibition of se'or
u-dvash applies to even placing
and not merely burning leaven and nectar on the altar, then one would be in
violation of this law by pouring nectar as a libation upon the altar. Since the nectar is poured upon the
altar, this constitutes a violation despite the fact that it is not burned on
the altar. Indeed, the Rambam
explicitly rules that the prohibition of se'or u-dvash applies even to nectar. In Hilkhot Shabbat (29:14), the Rambam
establishes that when reciting kiddush one must use wine that is suitable for
nesakhim, and then adds that for this reason, one may not recite
kiddush over wine if even a morsel of leaven or a drop of nectar fell
into it. This presentation clearly
indicates that one who uses nectar for the nesakhim violates the
prohibition of se'or u-dvash
as we in fact inferred from Rashi's comments.
(It should be noted, however, that according to this line of reasoning, the Torah should have perhaps mentioned the nesakhim as another exception to the rule of se'or u-dvash. As Rashi writes in this commentary to this verse, this prohibition applies to all metikat peri sweet extracts from fruits, and would thus presumably include wine, as well. Seemingly, then, if the Torah found it necessary to make an exception for bikkurim, it should have made an exception for the wine libations, as well.)
******
Parashat Vayikra outlines the basic procedure for offering sacrifices in
certain situations of a Torah violation.
One category of sacrifice discussed in this parasha (chapter 5) is the korban oleh ve-yoreid, or "fluctuating" sacrifice. This offering is so named because its
content depends on the individual's financial status: the basic requirement is a
sheep or goat, but a poor sinner brings as his offering two pigeons or
turtledoves. Especially mendicant
sinners bring an even less expensive offering a small amount of flour. This sacrifice is prescribed in three
general situations of sin:
1) a person who falsely swore that he has no
knowledge with which to testify before a court;
2) a person who partook of sacrificial meat
or treaded in the area of the
3) a person who forgot about an oath he had
made and violated it as a result.
Abarbanel, in several contexts in his commentary to Sefer Vayikra,
advances a startling theory regarding these different "gradations" presented by
the Torah for the oleh
ve-yoreid offering. Namely, according to Abarbanel, this
scale actually applies to all sin-offerings. Even in the standard case of a chatat (sin-offering), where an individual
inadvertently commits a violation punishable by karet, a poor sinner brings a less expensive
offering. Even though the Torah
introduces this scale only in the particular context of the three transgressions
mentioned above, in truth, it refers to standard cases of sin-offerings, as
well. Whenever a poor man commits a
transgression that requires the offering of a chatat, he brings an offering in accordance with
his means, as discussed in the context of the oleh ve-yoreid.
Rav Eliezer Lipman Lichtenstein, in his commentary to Sefer Vayikra entitled Shem Olam (Warsaw, 1877), notes that Abarbanel's theory is in direct opposition to Talmudic tradition, which clearly restricts this scale to the three cases described above. Throughout the Talmud's discussions of korbanot it is clearly and undeniably assumed that an underprivileged transgressor offers a less expensive offering only in these three instances. In all other cases of a sin-offering, the Torah imposes a uniform standard upon all violators, regardless of financial status.
The Shem Olam speaks of this theory as a shegaga she-yotza mi-lifnei ha-shalit "an error proceeding from the ruler" (based on Kohelet 10:5). Meaning, despite Abarbanel's great scholarship, he overlooked a basic halakha. It seems more likely, however, that Abarbanel distinguished between the two realms of peshuto shel mikra (the straightforward reading of the text) and practical halakha as it emerges from the oral tradition. He was presumably well aware of the Gemara's assumption that the different gradations of sin-offerings apply only in these three instances. Nevertheless, he felt that the straightforward interpretation of the text yields a different conclusion, that even in other cases of a sin-offering a poor individual brings a less expensive sacrifice. (A number of Rishonim, including the Rashbam and Rabbenu Yosef Bekhor Shor, acknowledged these two realms of exegesis and commonly offered interpretations in opposition to accepted Halakha.)
This question likely reflects a certain tension that surfaces in the
context of sin-offerings brought for expiation. On the one hand, imposing demanding
obligations as the prerequisite means for atonement could discourage the sinner
from making the effort and incurring the expense to follow the prescribed
procedure. It might also display a
certain lack of sensitivity to the plight of the underprivileged. At the same time, however, presenting a
"cushy" alternative might appear as lessening the severity of the act, as though
a Torah violation is something that could very easily be erased without too much
effort or sacrifice.
According to the halakhic conclusion, this tension is resolved through a
distinction between different cases of sin. In most instances requiring a
sin-offering, the needy individual must suffer the consequences of his mistake
and purchase an expensive animal just like wealthier violators. But in the three specific situations
mentioned above, the Torah shows its sensitivity to the plight of the
underprivileged and allows for a less expensive offering. The Sefer Ha-chinukh explains that these three transgressions
are more common, mistakes to which people are often susceptible, and the Torah
therefore did not want to impose a demanding obligation upon the needy in these
cases. This distinction between the
different cases perhaps signifies the resolution to the tension between the need
to stress the severity of Torah violation, and the sensitivity towards the
hardship endured by the poor.
******
The haftara for Shabbat Zakhor (the Shabbat immediately
preceding Purim) is taken from Sefer Shemuel I (chapter 15) and tells the story
of the battle waged by King Shaul against Amalek. The prophet Shemuel approached the king
and ordered him, at the Almighty's behest, to eliminate the entire Amalekite
tribe and destroy even its cattle.
Shaul promptly mobilized an army and led the offensive, but during the
battle he and the warriors decided to take Agag the Amalekite king as a live
captive, and to bring the cattle as sacrificial offerings to God. Rather than eliminate the king and the
animals, Shaul and the people chose to bring them back
alive.
After the battle, Shaul went to
Rav Mendel Hirsch, in his commentary to the haftarot, makes the following insightful remark
concerning Shemuel's decision to honor Shaul with his presence at the victory
ceremony:
The same Samuel, who just before, at God's
command, and as His representative, had stood in front of Saul full of wrath and
majesty and had arraigned him and called him to account, now, once he had
fulfilled his mission, steps respectfully and modestly back and "follows" the
king.
After having fulfilled his duty to convey
God's disapproval of Shaul's conduct and inform Shaul of his consequent
forfeiture of the kingship, Shemuel immediately stepped back from the role of
critic and treated Shaul with the respect he deserved. The condemnation was certainly
warranted, but once it was completed Shemuel displayed no lingering hostility
towards Shaul.
Rav Hirsch proceeds to demonstrate how Shemuel's conduct in this regard
dispels a misconception about the prophets that had become prevalent among
secular Bible critics:
We stress this point only to show how far
off the men of God, the prophets, were from the attempted hierarchy which a
highly imaginative report of history imputes to them in order to strengthen
their own eminence at the cost of the royal authority and to show off their own
importance in the eyes of the people.
The very contrary is the truth.
In this connection we would also remember the prophet Elijah running as a
footman in front of King Ahab just after his glorious experience
on Mt. Carmel
(Melakhim I 18:46).
Shemuel's respectful disposition towards
Shaul after conveying God's harsh message of condemnation demonstrates that the
prophet was driven purely by a sincere desire to fulfill the mission assigned to
him by God, and not to "strengthen his own eminence at the cost of the royal
authority." His concern was not his
own stature and prominence, but rather the accurate transmission of God's word
and ensuring that it is properly understood and implemented by the
people.