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PARASHAT
VAYIKRA
By Rav
David Silverberg
Among the korbanot discussed in Parashat Vayikra is the
korban mincha, or meal offering, which was normally brought by the
poor. The mincha was far less costly than animal sacrifices,
and it was established to enable those with limited means to offer a sacrifice
in the Mikdash.
Furthermore, certain offenses (listed in 5:1-4) require bringing a
korban oleh ve-yoreid – a sacrifice that depends upon the
violator’s financial status. The
wealthier offenders bring a sheep or goat, while the less advantaged offer two
birds, and a destitute sinner earns atonement through a small meal
offering.
The Midrash (Vayikra Rabba 3) makes an intriguing remark
concerning the mincha offering. According to one view recorded in the
Midrash, “The Almighty showed our patriarch Avraham all the means of atonement,
except for the tenth of an efa [brought as a mincha].” The Midrash refers here to God’s
comments during the berit bein ha-betarim (Bereishit 15:9), which the
Sages interpreted as foretelling the institution of the korbanot.
In response to Avraham’s request for reassurance that his descendants
would endure even if they sin, God informed the patriarch of the korbanot, through which Benei Yisrael would
achieve atonement for their wrongdoing.
According to this view, however, when telling the patriarch about the
sacrifices, God chose not to disclose the information concerning the korban mincha.
Why did God decide to conceal this information, and what message does
this Midrash seek to convey?
Rav Yehuda Leib Ginsburg, in his Yalkut Yehuda,
suggests that Avraham would have been dismayed to learn that poverty would
plague the nation he founded. The
foundations of Kelal Yisrael, built by our righteous patriarch,
are the values of kindness and sensitivity. In the nation he envisioned, there would
be no need for special provisions for the sacrificial offerings of the poor –
because one’s family, community and friends would ensure that he never reaches a
state of poverty. Rav Ginsburg
cites in this context a ruling in the Shulchan Arukh (Y.D. 380:2) regarding the prohibition
against working during aveilut (mourning):
Throughout
the first three days, it is forbidden for him to do work – even a pauper
supported by charity. Thereafter,
if he is poor and has nothing to eat, he may do [work] privately in his home…
But the Sages said, “May a curse befall his neighbors who made it necessary for
him to do this!”
It is
inconceivable that a Jewish community member would be forced to work during his
week of mourning because he would otherwise starve. Halakha strongly
condemns a community whose members fail to care for one another, and allow one
of their own to plummet to such depths of destitution.
By the same token, the Yalkut Yehuda
explains, Avraham Avinu would have been utterly ashamed by his descendants had
he known that there were those who enjoyed luxuries and excesses while their
brethren withered in poverty.
The Midrash thus teaches that although the Torah made arrangements to
accommodate the poor members of the nation who wish to offer sacrifices, this
does not mean that we may resign ourselves to the reality of poverty. It is a problem that we, as a nation,
must collectively confront and resolve to the very best of our ability – just as
our patriarch Avraham would have wanted and, in fact,
demanded.
*******
Parashat Vayikra introduces the different types of individual sacrifices,
beginning with the three kinds of voluntary offerings (ola,
mincha and
shelamim). It then proceeds to discuss the
mandatory sacrifices, which are required in certain situations of
wrongdoing. The first of this type
of sacrifice which the Torah addresses is the par kohen mashi’ach – the
bull that the kohen gadol would bring as a sin offering if he
inadvertently transgressed a sin punishable with kareit (eternal
excision).
In describing the procedure for this sacrifice, the Torah lists the fats
from the bull that are to be burnt upon the altar. These parts of the animal have already
been listed earlier, in the context of the korban shelamim, whose fats
are also burned upon the altar.
(The difference between the two sacrifices lies in the fact that the
kohen gadol’s
sin-offering is then burned outside the Temple, while the meat of the shelamim
is eaten.) Interestingly, the
Torah makes a point of emphasizing this point of resemblance between this
sin-offering and the shelamim
offering: “…just as is separated from the ox of the shelamim offering”
(“ka’asher yuram mi-shor zevach ha-shelamim” –
4:10).
Torat Kohanim interprets this verse as reflecting a broader
parallel between these two offerings: “Just as shelamim brings peace to
the world, this [sacrifice], too, brings peace to the world.” The term shelamim is viewed as a
derivative of the word shalom, and refers to the peace and camaraderie
this offering engenders. The
offering of a shelamim was a festive occasion, which occurred not as a
result of a transgression, but rather for the purpose of thanksgiving or
celebration. The kohanim as
well as the individual bringing the offering partook of the sacrificial meat,
and friends and relatives were often invited to join and take part. Torat Kohanim inferred from this verse that the kohen gadol’s sin-offering, too, has a similar effect
of “bringing peace to the world.”
How might we explain this outcome of the kohen’s
offering?
Rav Yehuda Leib Ginsburg, in his Yalkut Yehuda, suggests that the kohen gadol’s offering yields this effect because it
sets a critical example of integrity and admission of guilt. It was common among other faiths for
religious leaders to view themselves and be viewed by others as infallible and
never subject to error. The
situation of a kohen gadol who confesses wrongdoing and works
toward achieving atonement demonstrates that all people are prone to mistakes,
and one should therefore not hesitate to come forward, acknowledge guilt,
express remorse, and seek to rectify his misdeed. This offering “brings peace to the
world” because it narrows the gap that would otherwise separate the masses from
the spiritual leaders. This enables
the people to gain inspiration and take example from the kohen gadol, to not be deterred from confessing and
repenting – thus making the world a far better and more peaceful
place.
*******
The Torah in Parashat Vayikra (2:11) introduces the prohibition against
including leaven or honey in sacrificial offerings on the altar: “All meal
offerings that you sacrifice to the Lord shall not be made into leaven, for you
shall not offer anything from leaven or honey as an offering by fire to the
Lord.”
In the “pitum ha-keroret” section
of the prayer service, which discusses the preparation of the ketoret (incense) offered in the Temple, we find the
following comment:
Had one placed in it [the incense]
even a minuscule measure of honey, nobody could have resisted its scent. Why, then, would they not mix honey into
it? Because the Torah said, “for
you shall not offer anything from leaven or honey as an offering by fire to the
Lord.”
The Sages here note that honey could
have significantly enhanced the scent of the incense, yet was not included as
one of its ingredients, because of the prohibition against offering honey on the
altar.
A number of writers noted the peculiarity of the question posed in this
passage: “Why, then, would they not mix honey into it?” The prohibition against placing honey on
the altar appears explicitly in the Torah.
Why is it necessary to inquire into the reason for excluding honey from
the ketoret?
Is it not readily obvious that the Torah forbade offering
honey?
The simplest answer, perhaps, is that this passage is a variation of a
comment found in Torat Kohanim to this
verse. Torat Kohanim raises
the possibility that the prohibition introduced here refers only to offerings
that would not be enhanced by the addition of honey: “I know only [that the
prohibition applies to] things for which honey is not beneficial. From where [do I know that it applies
to] things for which honey is beneficial… The verse states, ‘ve-khol devash’ [‘any honey’].” It is only because of the additional
term “ve-khol” that the Sages
concluded that honey may not be added even to offerings that it would
enhance. Otherwise, we might have
interpreted the verse as banning honey only in situations where it would offer
no benefit to the sacrifice. Quite
possibly, the passage from pitum ha-ketoret is simply another
version of this discussion. It initially proposes that honey should be allowed
with the ketoret because the prohibition relates only to sacrifices that
honey would not enhance, and it then concludes, based on a careful reading of
the verse, that honey may not be included in any offering, regardless of its
contribution.
Rav Menachem Benzion Zaks, in his Menachem Tziyon, notes the broader implications of this
halakha, namely, that we may not transgress one
mitzva to enhance a different mitzva.
We do not reserve the right to raise the standards of our performance of
one mitzva at the expense of another Torah law. The ketoret was indeed intended to produce a pleasant
fragrance in the Mishkan, but this did not mean that all
ingredients that achieved that effect could be used; we may not disregard other
Torah laws in order to enhance the ketoret’s fragrance. It is far preferable to observe a mitzva at its basic level rather than strive for a
higher level at the expense of other mitzvot.
*******
The first section of Parashat Vayikra is devoted to the subject of
korbanot nedava – the
voluntary sacrifices which Benei Yisrael are allowed to offer. This category includes the korban
mincha – a meal offering that was
generally brought by the underprivileged, who could not afford an animal
sacrifice – and two kinds of animal sacrifices: ola and shelamim. A korban ola would be burnt entirely on the altar,
whereas the shelamim was divided among the altar, the kohanim and the individual offering the
sacrifice. Selected fats from the
sacrifice were burnt on the altar, the kohen received the breast and thigh, and the
individual offering the sacrifice partook of the rest of the meat, usually with
family and friends, in Jerusalem.
Interestingly, the ola and shelamim differ from one
another also in terms of the kinds of animals that one may offer. In the first chapter of Sefer Vayikra,
the Torah allows for three different kinds of ola offerings – from
cattle, sheep and birds. When it
comes to the shelamim sacrifice, however, the Torah speaks only
of offering cattle, sheep or goats.
One who wishes to offer a shelamim does not have the option of offering a bird
sacrifice.
One possible reason for this distinction relates to the festive nature of
the shelamim
offering. The meat of the shelamim was
usually eaten as part of a celebration, such as a thanksgiving feast. Meat of cattle and sheep is generally
viewed as a greater expression of joy and festivity than poultry; thus, for
example, many authorities require eating specifically red meat on Yom Tov
to fulfill the obligation of simchat Yom Tov (rejoicing on the festival). Similarly, the festive nature of the
shelamim sacrifice required specifically animal meat, rather than
poultry.
Rav Shimshon Refael Hirsch explains differently, based upon the possible
symbolic significance of the bird sacrifice. On the basis of a number of verses
elsewhere in Tanakh, Rav Hirsch asserts that birds serve as a symbol of
“a fugitive existence, threatened by danger, threatened by dire necessity, and
defenseless.” He notes as well that
bird offerings are usually required in cases of undesirable physical conditions,
such as the metzora, zav and zava. Rav Hirsch therefore postulates that
bird offerings express “a precarious, suffering, unhappy condition,” and are
brought by an individual who finds himself in such a condition. This easily explains why birds are
suitable for the solemn context of the ola offering, but not for the festive
event of shelamim. As Rav
Hirsch writes, “For the shelamim idea, the idea of a complete undisturbed
happy condition, is the very opposite of that which is expressed by a bird
offering.”
Rav Amnon Bazak (Shabbat
Be-shabbato, Parashat Vayikra,
5765) suggested a different reason why birds may not be used as a
shelamim offering. It
stands to reason that birds were brought as an ola in a case where
somebody could not afford a cattle or sheep offering. Indeed, later in this parasha, the Torah speaks of the korban oleh ve-yoreid sacrifice which was offered in certain
instances of wrongdoing, and the nature of the sacrifice depended upon one’s
financial status. The Torah writes
that ideally, one should bring a sheep or goat (5:6), but if he could not afford
an animal, then he would offer two birds (5:7). The bird offering was thus the less
desirable option that the Torah offered for those who could not afford the
preferable sacrifice.
This may likely explain the difference between the ola and
shelamim. Although the ola is a
voluntary offering, the Torah makes explicit reference to its function as
bringing atonement (1:4), indicating that it is brought for the purpose of
earning forgiveness. The Torah did
not wish to deny the less privileged the opportunity of atonement, and it
therefore allowed for an inexpensive bird offering (just as it allowed the
mincha offering
for the destitute). Since the
ola served
the necessary function of atonement, the Torah found a way to allow all members
of the community to offer such a sacrifice. The shelamim,
however, is brought as a purely voluntary offering to God, as an expression of
well-being and festivity, and the Torah therefore demanded the highest quality
sacrifice, without making arrangements for those who could not as yet afford an
animal offering.
*******
In the second verse of Parashat Vayikra, God introduces to Moshe the
concept of a personal sacrifice: “A person among you who offers a sacrifice to
the Lord – [if it is] from an animal, then you shall offer your sacrifice from
cattle or sheep.”
Commenting on this verse, the Midrash (Vayikra Rabba 2:1)
writes, “This is what [is meant when] it says, ‘Ha-ven yakir li
Efrayim’ (‘Is
not Efrayim a precious son to Me’ – Yirmiyahu 31:19). The Midrash draws an association between
the opening of Sefer Vayikra, which introduces the concept of personal
sacrifices, and Yirmiyahu’s famous prophecy of consolation in which God
expresses his eternal love for Benei Yisrael. How might we explain this
association?
A cursory glance at this prophecy in Sefer Yirmiyahu indicates that the
prophet speaks here of the return of the Northern
Kingdom, the ten tribes that had been exiled by the Assyrian
Empire. (This point is developed at
length by Rav Mendel Hirsch, in his commentary to the
haftarot, in
discussing the haftara of the second day of Rosh Hashanah.) Although Yirmiyahu prophesied many years
after the Northern Kingdom’s downfall, and his prophecies related primarily to
the current situation of the Judean Kingdom, this prophecy appears to be
directed toward the ten northern tribes.
Yirmiyahu here speaks to “Efrayim,” the tribe from whom the founder of
the Northern Kingdom – Yerovam ben Nevat – hailed, and the name by which the
Northern Kingdom is occasionally known. Moreover, he foresees the restoration of
the vineyards in “harei
Shomron” (31:4) and “har Efrayim” (31:5) – the hills of Samaria, the heartland of the Northern
Kingdom.
Likewise, Yirmiyahu here famously describes the weeping of our matriarch,
Rachel, who bemoans the exile of her descendents and then receives God’s
assurance of their return (31:14-16).
The tribe of Efrayim – the most prominent of the ten northern tribes – of
course descended from Rachel’s son Yosef, and she therefore weeps over the
banishment of her descendants from their homeland.
The Midrash perhaps saw in God’s promise of the Northern Kingdom’s restoration a model for the concept of
korban, the
possibility of restoring one’s relationship with the Almighty that had been
strained by sin. However one
chooses to understand the concept of a sacrifice as a means of drawing near to
God, the word korban itself –
a derivative of the root k.r.v.,
“closeness” – indicates that this is indeed its primary function. The plight of the lost tribes, and God’s
promise of their return, exemplifies God’s eternal love for and mindfulness of
His people regardless of how are they have strayed, or for how long. Indeed, toward the beginning of this
prophecy (31:2), Yirmiyahu cites the people’s exasperated cry, “The Lord appears
to me from afar,” and then God’s immediate response, “but I have loved you an
eternal love, and have therefore drawn you [to Me] with
kindness!”
Chazal thus
drew an equation between the ten tribes and an individual seeking to repair his
strained relationship with God. He,
too, is assured of God’s unending love toward him despite what may have
transpired, and is therefore encouraged to seek atonement through teshuva and his
offering a sacrifice to God.
(We follow the straightforward reading of Yirmiyahu’s prophecy, according
to which the ten lost tribes are destined to return and rejoin the Judean Kingdom. The question surrounding the fate of the
lost tribes is actually subject to a debate among Chazal, and
lies beyond the scope of our discussion.)
*******
Among the laws of sacrifices presented in Sefer Vayikra we find the
requirement of semikha – placing one’s hands on the animal’s
head. The act of semikha is
required whenever an individual offers a personal animal sacrifice, with the
exception of bekhor (one’s firstborn animal), ma’aser (animal tithe) and korban pesach (see Menachot
92a).
What is the meaning and significance of semikha?
In Sefer Bamidbar, we find two instances where a person or group of
people performed semikha on another person or group. In Parashat Beha’alotekha (8:10), we
read that as part of the formal consecration of the Leviyim for their
role in the Mishkan, Benei Yisrael laid their hands upon the
Leviyim’s heads. Later, in
Parashat Pinchas (27:18), we read that Moshe rested his hands upon the head of
his disciple, Yehoshua, when he was formally designated as Moshe’s
successor. In both these contexts,
semikha expresses the
designation of somebody to fill another person’s role. Benei Yisrael formally appointed the
Leviyim as their representatives in the Mishkan, and Moshe
designated Yehoshua as his successor.
The act of semikha performed on an animal sacrifice likely
serves a similar role. The Ramban
(1:9) famously explained the notion of an animal sacrifice as intended to bring
to a person’s mind the fate he deserves on account of his wrongdoing. By placing his hands upon the animal,
the individual symbolically designates the animal as his “substitute” whereby he
is placed on the altar in the individual’s stead.
Alternatively, we might explain the concept of semikha on the basis of the Torah’s
description of the sa’ir la-azazel, the “scapegoat” which symbolically
transports the nation’s sins into the wilderness on Yom Kippur. The Torah writes (Vayikra 16:21) that
before the goat is brought into the wilderness, the kohen gadol places his hands upon its
head and confesses the nation’s sins.
In so doing, the Torah says, “he places them [the nation’s sins] upon the
goat’s head.” It appears from this
description that the act of semikha symbolically transfers the weight and
burden of sin from the person onto the animal. This might very well hold true regarding
ordinary sacrifices, as well. A
person who brings a sacrifice for the purpose of atonement performs a symbolic
act reflecting the transfer of his sin onto the animal, which then brings the
sin with it onto the altar.
This understanding of semikha can also
be applied to the cases described above, where semikha
signifies a formal designation of a person or group for a certain role. Benei Yisrael conferred upon the
Leviyim, and Moshe
conferred upon Yehoshua, the responsibilities and obligations of their
respective leadership positions, and this conferral is expressed through the act
of semikha.
It should be noted that these approaches to semikha work off the assumption that all
sacrifices that require semikha serve to earn atonement. A number of sources suggest that the shelamim sacrifice is not brought for the purpose of
atonement, but rather as an expression of joy and festivity. Others, however, including Netziv, in
his Meromei Sadeh (Zevachim 29b), claim that the shelamim
brings atonement like the other personal sacrifices. Clearly, if we view semikha as
designating the animal as a substitute for the individual, or as transferring
the burden of sin onto the animal, then we must seemingly ascribe the goal of
atonement even to the shelamim,
since the shelamim requires semikha just like other
offerings.
Chizkuni, in his commentary to Parashat Vayikra (1:4), offers a different
explanation of semikha: “According to the simple
understanding, this is the common practice among people: when they wish to begin
involving themselves in a certain activity, they prepare themselves to do it by
placing their hand upon it.” It
seems that Chizkuni viewed semikha as the symbolic initiation of the
sacrificial process. Placing one’s
hand over an object meant the formal beginning of the activity performed with
that object, and thus, in the context of sacrifice, it signified the formal
initiation of the offering. Thus,
according to this view, semikha does not relate to the role or purpose of
the sacrifice, but simply marks the formal beginning of the
procedure.
*******
Parashat Vayikra begins by discussing the korban ola, a voluntary offering that was entirely
burnt upon the altar. Chazal noted that in introducing this topic, the
Torah curiously shifts from the singular to plural form. It begins by speaking of “a person among
you who offers a sacrifice to the Lord,” but then concludes in the plural form –
“takrivu et korbankhem” (“you
shall offer your sacrifice”).
Torat Kohanim infers from the plural form that an ola
sacrifice can be offered as a nidvat tzibur – a national, voluntary
sacrifice. The simple reading of
this passage indicates that Am Yisrael as a nation can collectively bring
a voluntary ola sacrifice.
This is the explanation given by the Ramban in his Torah commentary, and
by the Rash Mi-Shantz and Rabbenu Hillel in their respective commentaries to
Torat Kohanim.
Others, however, explained differently. Rashi, as well as Midrash Ha-gadol (in Torah Sheleima to this verse), understood this passage as
a reference to the olat keitz
ha-mizbei’ach. In the interest of ensuring a constant
presence of sacrifices on the altar, the Temple treasury would use the surplus
sacrificial funds (which were collected through the mandatory machatzit
ha-shekel tax) for the purchase of ola offerings. These offerings were brought on behalf
of the entire nation and placed upon the altar, and Rashi claims that it is to
these offerings that Torat Kohanim refers when it speaks of an ola
brought as a nidvat tzibur.
The Ramban, in his Milchamot
Hashem to Masekhet Berakhot (13a in the Rif), ascribes this reading to the
Rif.
Netziv, in his Ha’amek Davar, presents a much different theory to
explain the Torat Kohanim’s comments. He contends that the korban ola was customarily offered during an eit tzara, during times of trouble or crisis. When an individual confronted a personal
crisis, he would offer a personal ola sacrifice and, after the
sacrificial rituals were performed, he would pray to God for assistance during
his time of need. However, in
situations of national crisis, such as war, drought and the like, the nation
would turn to a righteous individual to pray on their behalf (as in the famous
stories told in the Gemara of Choni Ha-me’agel and Rabbi Chanina ben Dosa). This individual would also bring an
ola offering which, while having the formal status of a personal
sacrifice, was offered on behalf of the entire nation. Netziv mentions as an example of this
practice the sacrifice offered by the prophet Shemuel on the nation’s behalf
when they came under attack by the Pelishtim (Shemuel I 7:9). This sacrifice, Netziv explains, is a
personal offering brought for all Am Yisrael, and Torat Kohanim had this particular kind of ola offering in mind when it spoke of a
nidvat tzibur.
Although the nation cannot collectively bring a voluntary offering, they
can ask a righteous individual to offer a personal sacrifice on their behalf,
and this is what was in fact done during periods of national
crisis.
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