S.A.L.T. – PARSHAT EMOR

By Rav David Silverberg

Motzaei

            The first half of Parashat Emor deals mainly with laws relevant to the kohanim.  Included in this unit is a section in which the Torah warns the kohanim against partaking of sacrifices (or teruma) in a state of ritual impurity (22:1-9).  Of course, this prohibition applies to all members of Benei Yisrael, to both kohanim and non-kohanim.  Although certain sacrificial offerings may be eaten even by non-kohanim, they may not be eaten in a state of tum’a (ritual impurity).  Any individual who partakes of sacrificial meat must first ensure that he is in a state of tahara (ritual purity).

Seforno (commenting to 22:2) offers an insightful explanation for why a specific warning was issued to the kohanim in this regard: “So they do not think that due to their exalted stature, the sacred offerings of the nation should be [considered] like ordinary food for them.”  The kohanim might have presumed that the restrictions governing the consumption of kodashim (sacrificial food) apply only to ordinary members of the nation, who do not normally partake of sacred food.  But since the kohanim are accustomed to eating sacred food, they should be allowed to treat it the way others treat normal food.  For them, kodashim is normal and routine, and they might therefore presume the right to eat it normally, without following the strict guidelines that apply to others.  The Torah therefore found it necessary to emphasize that the kohanim, too, are bound by the laws restricting the consumption of kodashim to those in a state of ritual purity.

            As in the case of the kohanim in the Beit Ha-mikdash, our frequent exposure to matters of kedusha could have the effect of dulling our sense of reverence and diminishing from the seriousness with which we approach them.  Regular attendance in the synagogue, for example, could lead a person to feel too comfortable and at ease in the sanctuary, to the point where he feels no differently than he does in his own living room.  Prayer, standing humbly before the Almighty, should be an uneasy, tense experience.  The fact we engage in prayer several times each day should not dull the tension and apprehension with which we should stand before God.  Similarly, Chazal speak of the need to study Torah with a feeling of “dread, fear, trembling and sweat,” in a manner resembling the dread that gripped our ancestors as they stood at the foot of Mount Sinai.  However, having grown accustomed to daily Torah study, we often fail to approach the material or the experience with the reverence it deserves and demands.

            As Seforno writes, regular exposure to kedusha must not dull one’s sense of awe and reverence toward it.  Even though we are privileged to engage in Torah study and practice each and every day of our lives, we must remain cognizant and sensitive to the sacred quality of these pursuits, and treat them with the proper level of seriousness and respect.

Sunday

            Parashat Emor begins by outlining the unique prohibitions that apply to kohanim, specifically those which govern their personal conduct – the prohibition against coming in contact with a human corpse, and restrictions governing whom they may marry.  The Torah instructs, “They shall be holy to their God…for they offer the fire sacrifices of the Lord, the bread of their God” (21:6). The kohanim are deemed “holy” by virtue of their role as officiators in the Mishkan, and this special status requires them to abide by certain restrictions that do not apply to the rest of the nation.

            Rav Yehuda Amital shelit”a (http://www.vbm-torah.org/archive/sichot/vayikra/31-66emor.htm) noted that we have much to learn about the Torah’s notion of “holiness” from reading this section.  Although kohanim are prohibited from coming in contact with human corpses, the Torah makes a significant exception in the case of the death of an immediate relative (21:2-3).  What this might demonstrate, Rav Amital remarked, is that the ideal of “kedusha” does not mean the negating of one’s humanness, ridding oneself of his basic human qualities.  The Torah requires kohanim to be “holy,” but this does not mean that they may not grieve for their loved ones, that they are to avoid experiencing normal human emotions.  Rav Amital commented (as transcribed by a student):

The law could have been that kohanim, the holy people of the nation who are dedicated exclusively to Divine service, are beyond all the regular emotions associated with mourning, and therefore are not required to defile themselves. Instead, the Torah insists that even they – especially they – must be defiled for this purpose.

            The previous parasha, Parashat Kedoshim, begins by calling upon all members of Benei Yisrael to be holy – “kedoshim tiheyu” (19:2).  The subsequent verses, which should likely be understood as presenting the specific guidelines for achieving “holiness,” deal mainly with the Torah’s ethical code, the prohibitions against stealing, lying, deceiving and judicial favoritism, the obligations to respect parents and elders, and so on.  Rav Amital observed that the concept of “holiness” as it emerges from Parashat Kedoshim and Parashat Emor is drastically different from the conventional understanding of the term, which commonly evokes associations of “otherworldly” behavior.  The Torah requires us to be “holy” in the sense of exhibiting basic, down-to-earth qualities such as integrity and sensitivity, not superhuman behavior. As Rav Amital noted:

The Torah explains that what makes a person holy is not all kinds of ethereal, lofty things, but rather the simplest foundations of inter-personal relationships: the prohibition against stealing, the prohibition against speaking falsely, the prohibition against hating one’s fellow. This is true holiness: being connected to the world and behaving in accordance with fundamental morality towards others - not isolating oneself and engaging in “higher” matters.

Rav Amital proceeded to lament the fact that this is not how “kedusha” is commonly perceived today:

“New Age” philosophy rejects this approach. We see that these days everyone is looking for a connection to Kabbala and to some higher form of spirituality. A great many rabbis are referred to as “ha-Rav ha-Mekubal ha-E-loki,” the divine kabbalist rabbi.  If there is a rabbi who is not a kabbalist but just a regular person, then some regard him as no rabbi.

            Approaching the concept of “kedusha” in superhuman, mystical terms threatens to divert attention away from the basic obligations that it involves, from maintaining basic ethical and moral standards in normal, day-to-day life.  Moreover, it makes sanctity something which is accessible only to a select few capable of maintaining an “otherworldly” lifestyle, in direct contrast to God’s instruction that the command of “kedoshim tiheyu” be issued in the presence of “the entire congregation of Israelites” (19:2).  We are all obligated to be “holy,” to live normal but disciplined and ethical lives.  It requires us not to be angels, but to be “holy” human beings living in the devoted service of the Almighty.

Monday

            The opening section of Parashat Emor discusses the special laws that apply to the kohanim, particularly the prohibition against coming in contact with a human corpse and the restrictions on whom they may marry.  Curiously, the Torah in this context also issues several prohibitions forbidding the kohanim from activities that are forbidden for all members of the nation.  These include cutting their beards and making incisions in their flesh (21:5).  We find a similar phenomenon in the prophecy of Yechezkel which is customarily read as the haftara for Parashat Emor, in which the prophet announces that the kohanim may not partake of meat taken from a neveila (animal that died through means other than halakhic slaughtering) or a tereifa (animal with a terminal illness).  Of course, these prohibitions apply equally to all members of Benei Yisrael, and yet the prophet speaks of them in the specific context of the priestly code.

            One possible explanation for this reiteration, as discussed by Rav Yonason Sacks (http://torahweb.org/torah/2007/parsha/rsac_emor.html), is that these prohibitions are issued as a warning to the kohanim not to compartmentalize their religious observance.  The fact that they are bidden to follow a higher standard of sanctity with regard to certain areas of religious life may lead them to allow themselves greater laxity in other areas.  For example, if they are bound by special restrictions regarding marriage, they might think, then they are perhaps granted greater latitude when it comes to food choices.  By reiterating several general prohibitions in the context of the priestly code, the Torah perhaps reminds the kohanim that the special laws of the kohanim are in addition to, and not in place of, the laws that apply to the rest of the nation.  Their unique mitzvot do not come at the expense of the other mitzvot.  The special sanctity of the priesthood must be manifest not only in the observances that are unique to the kohanim, but also in their general conduct, in their observance of all the Torah’s laws.

            Rav Sacks notes in this context that later in Parashat Emor, the Torah lists the mumin (physical deformities) that disqualify a kohen from performing the avoda (ritual service) in the Mikdash, including a deformity called “saru’a” (21:18).  Rashi explains that this term refers to a person with disproportioned limbs, such as with one arm that is longer than the other.  Rav Sacks cites Rav Nissan Alpert as suggesting a beautiful insight into the possible symbolic significance of this halakha.  Namely, a kohen must be properly balanced in his pursuit of kedusha.  He does not become holy by extending himself inordinately in one area of Torah life at the expense of others.  Kedusha must be evenly dispersed throughout the entirety of the kohen’s life.  By disqualifying a saru’a, the Torah indicates that a kohen must be properly balanced and proportioned in his service of the Almighty.

            Rav Sacks concludes by noting that this lesson applies not only to the kohanim, but to all members of Benei Yisrael:

The lesson of the holistic kedusha of the kohein holds true not merely for kohanim themselves, but for all Bnei Torah as well.  As members of Klal Yisrael, we are required to maintain the highest standards of sanctity in all areas of our lives.  Kedusha and high ethical conduct are not confined to the walls of the Beis Medrash or the Shul, but must rather evenly pervade our entire existence, in each and every endeavor that we undertake.

Tuesday

            Yesterday, we noted the Torah’s reiteration in Parashat Emor of the three prohibitions of shaving one’s beard, balding one’s head, and making gashes in one’s skin: “They [the kohanim] shall not shave part of their heads, or cut the side growth of their beards, or make incisions in their flesh” (21:5).  Although the Torah issues these prohibitions here in specific reference to the kohanim, as part of the special priestly code, they in truth apply to all members of Benei Yisrael.  Earlier in Sefer Vayikra, in Parashat Kedoshim (19-27-28), the Torah introduces the prohibitions against shaving one’s beard and making gashes in one’s flesh, and in Sefer Devarim (14:1), the Torah reiterates the prohibition against making gashes and adds the prohibition against balding one’s head.  In that context the Torah also indicates that these two practices were customarily observed as expressions of grief over the loss of a loved one.  (See also Rashi to Vayikra 19:28.)

            In any event, as we discussed yesterday, the question arises as to why the Torah would issue these prohibitions amidst the special laws that apply to the kohanim, if they apply to all members of Benei Yisrael.  As full-fledged members of the nation, the kohanim are already bound by these prohibitions.  Why, then, are they presented here, in Parashat Emor, among the unique restrictions imposed upon the kohanim?

            We might suggest that the answer lies in the connection between these prohibitions and the immediately preceding verses.  As mentioned, the prohibitions against balding one’s head and making gashes in one’s skin are clearly associated with bereavement.  These were measures that the ancient pagans would observe as extreme expressions of grief.  Cutting one’s beard, too, appears to have been a sign of mourning in the ancient world, as indicated in Sefer Yirmiyahu (“megulechei zakan”- 41:5).  Before issuing these three prohibitions here in Parashat Emor, the Torah forbids kohanim from coming in contact with a human corpse, making an exception for cases of a family member’s death.  Possibly, the prohibitions against making gashes and shaving one’s beard or hair in response to personal tragedy should be viewed in the context of the special permission granted to a kohen to bury a loved one.  A kohen may have thought that once the ordinary restrictions of the priesthood don’t apply, then all the Torah’s laws governing the response to death are similarly suspended.  Moreover, a kohen might have assumed that specifically given his special stature, he should respond more drastically to the loss of a family member.  As a member of God’s sacred tribe, he should go to even greater lengths than others in expressing grief, to the point of balding his head, cutting his beard and mutilating his skin.  One may have mistakenly concluded that these practices reflect a higher level of piety and holiness, as the grieving relative is prepared to suffer humiliation and even physical pain in response to his loved one’s death.  The Torah therefore sought to dispel such a notion by reminding the kohanim that the restrictions on expressing grief that apply to all Benei Yisrael are equally binding upon them.

            Immediately after reiterating these prohibitions, the Torah proceeds to emphasize the kohanim’s special status of sanctity: “They shall be holy to their God, and they shall not desecrate the Name of their God” (21:6).  Interestingly, in Sefer Devarim, too, the prohibitions against balding one’s head and gashing one’s skin are immediately followed by a description of Benei Yisrael’s holiness: “For you are a holy nation to the Lord your God…” (Devarim 14:2).  The Torah in both contexts emphasizes that sanctity requires (among many other things, of course) retaining one’s dignity and composure during times of personal grief.  Although there is a mitzva to mourn the loss of a family member, the Torah also strictly forbids allowing personal tragedy to lead one to undignified or self-destructive behavior.  The level of kedusha demanded of Benei Yisrael, and certainly the special stature of kedusha assigned to the kohanim, requires maintaining self-respect and sensibility even during life’s most trying moments.  Even as the Torah allows and even requires expressing and experiencing grief, it also commands us to avoid being unraveled in times of hardship, to treat ourselves with respect and dignity even in periods of anguish.

Wednesday

            As we discussed in our previous two editions of S.A.L.T., Parashat Emor begins by presenting the special laws that apply to the kohanim, but, surprisingly, includes three prohibitions that apply to all Benei Yisrael: “They [the kohanim] shall not shave part of their heads, or cut the side growth of their beards, or make incisions in their flesh” (21:5).  Even though the entire nation is bound by these restrictions, the Torah presents them here, in this section, as though they are unique to the kohanim.

            Ibn Ezra, commenting on this verse, writes, “Israel has already been warned with regard to these.  But the reason [the Torah] warned them [the kohanim] is because a bald head, shaved beard and gashed flash shall not serve before the Lord.”  According to Ibn Ezra, it appears (and this is how the Meshekh Chokhma understood this comment), the Torah here not only forbids a kohen from performing these acts, but also disqualifies kohanim who practice these measures from serving in the Mikdash.  This is also the view of Rabbenu Yosef Bekhor Shor, who writes that a kohen who cuts his facial hair or makes bald areas in his head may not perform the service until the hair grows back, and a kohen who gashes his flesh may not perform the service until the wound heals.  The Ramban also adopts this view, in his commentary to Sefer Devarim (14:1).

            Rav Shimshon Raphael Hirsch, in his commentary, advances a much different approach.  As we discussed yesterday, these practices were observed by the ancient pagans as a means of expressing grief during times of personal loss.  It is thus not coincidental that they are mentioned here in Parashat Emor immediately following the Torah’s discussion of the prohibition of tum’at meit, which forbids a kohen from coming in contact with a human corpse, except upon the death of a family member.  Rav Hirsch suggested that the prohibitions against tum’at meit and against bodily signs of mourning both relate to the same concept, namely, avoiding preoccupation with death.  The Torah here establishes that unlike the priests of the ancient pagans, who were inordinately preoccupied with death, the kohanim of Benei Yisrael were to focus their attention on life, or, more specifically, on the way we are to live our lives.  To that end, the Torah forbade kohanim from coming in contact with a human corpse, and, in addition, forbade them from wearing on their bodies symbols of death.  Rav Hirsch writes:

Antique and modern heathenism like so very much to associate religion and religious matters with death and thoughts of death.  For them it is where Man ends that the Kingdom of God begins.  For them death and dying are the real manifestations of their godhead, who to them is a god of death and not of life.  A god who kills and does not animate, and sends death and its forerunners, illness and wretchedness, so that men should fear him, realize his power and their impotence.  The places which they dedicate to temples are therefore round about graves, the foremost place of their priest is therefore at the dead and dying…

Not so is the Jewish priest because not so is the Jewish teaching of God, the Jewish religion.  The God, Whose Name assigns the Jewish priest to his office is a God of life.  His sublimest manifestation is the elevating power of Life, freeing, animating, raising Man to free will and to eternal life, not the crushing power of death.  Not how one is to die, but how one is to live, how, living, one has victoriously to conquer death, death in life, thralldom, enslaved by one’s physical urges, moral weakness, how one has to live every second of a morally free, thinking, desiring, working and accomplishing life, and also enjoying all the pleasures of life as a moment of service to God, that is the teaching to which God has dedicated His Sanctuary, and for the service of which He has consecrated the kohanim…

And hence it says regarding Jewish priests…they are not to go about with a symbol of death on themselves.  By their outward appearance it is the force of life and not the power of death that they have to preach.

According to Rav Hirsch, then, these prohibitions are included in the priestly code in order to differentiate the role of the kohanim from the role that was commonly served by the pagan priests.  Whereas the pagan priests invested much of their time and energy in the area of death, the kohanim must focus their attention on life, on teaching and showing the rest of the nation how to live enjoyable, fulfilling and meaningful lives through the observance of the Torah.

            (It should be noted that Rav Hirsch made these comments concerning the two prohibitions of balding one’s head and gashing one’s skin; with regard to shaving one’s beard, he offers a different explanation.)

Thursday

            Toward the end of Parashat Emor we read the story of the megadef, the man who publicly blasphemed the Name of God, an offense for which he was executed.  The Torah offers few details of the background to the incident, informing us only that this man the product of a union between an Israelite woman and an Egyptian man, and that he had been quarreling with another person at the time he uttered his blasphemous remarks.

Curiously, when God speaks to Moshe to inform him that cursing the divine Name is punishable by execution, He also adds a brief discussion of civil law, specifically compensation for bodily injury and property damage (24:17-21).  The commentators offer different explanations for why these laws were mentioned in this context, but a surprisingly simple reason was suggested by Ibn Ezra.  As mentioned earlier, the megadef cursed God’s Name during (or perhaps immediately after) a quarrel with another member of Benei Yisrael.  Ibn Ezra surmises that this fight entailed violent confrontation, in which injury was caused to the two parties.  Therefore, when God appeared to Moshe to establish the laws relevant to this incident, He clarifies not only the capital punishment to which the megadef was liable for blaspheming God, but also the laws concerning reparations for the damages incurred.

Possible support for Ibn Ezra’s theory – that this quarrel involved violence – may be drawn from the verb “va-yinatzu” with which the Torah describes this fight (24:10).  Previously in the Torah, this verb (or variations thereof) is indeed used in reference to violent altercations.  On Moshe’s second day observing the plight of the Israelite slaves, he witnessed “shenei anashim ivrim nitzim” (“two Hebrew men fighting” – Shemot 2:13), and said to one of them, “Why are you beating your fellow?”  Clearly, the word “nitzim” in this context refers to a violent conflict.  Later, in Parashat Mishpatim (Shemot 21:22), the Torah addresses the case of two men who accidentally hit a pregnant woman over the course of a fight, and it employs the word “yinatzu.”  Here, too, the term is used in reference to a physical fight.  This might support Ibn Ezra’s claim that here in Parashat Emor, as well, the Torah refers to a violent struggle between the two men which resulted in physical injury.

We might also note an important lesson that perhaps emerges from God’s response to this incident.  Namely, one bears responsibility for his speech and actions – whether they are directed toward people or God – even during the heat of an argument and controversy.  We cannot excuse our words and behavior by blaming them on the charged emotions that naturally surface during a heated debate, conflict or disagreement.  God instructed Moshe that despite the circumstances surrounding this unfortunate incident, both parties bore full accountability – the megadef for his blasphemous words, and both men for the damage and injuries caused to the other.  We are bidden to keep our emotions and mouths in check and under our control even in unavoidable situations of debate and disagreement.  Anger and frustration are not valid excuses for speaking disrespectfully to God or for causing pain to our fellow.  The Torah demands discipline and self-control even under emotionally charged circumstances, and does not absolve us from guilt for wrongdoing committed in such situations.

Friday

            We read in the final section of Parashat Emor the story of the megadef, the man born to an Israelite mother and Egyptian father who publicly blasphemed God in the middle of the Israelite camp, for which he was later executed.  The Torah provides little information regarding the background to this incident, and Rashi (24:10) cites two Midrashic traditions as to what led this man to blasphemy.  One view infers the answer from the juxtaposition between this incident and the previous section, in which God instructs Benei Yisrael concerning the lechem ha-panim, the bread which was placed on the table in the Mishkan.  As the Torah commands (24:8), the bread was baked and placed on the table each Shabbat.  The kohanim would eat the bread a week later, on the following Shabbat, when the new bread was prepared and arranged on the table.  According to one view in the Midrash, it was this mitzva which drove the megadef to blasphemy.  He ridiculed this law, saying, “Is it proper for a king to eat warm bread every day, or to eat nine-day-old cold bread?”  The megadef thus felt contempt toward the mitzvot and blasphemed God.

            The second view cited by Rashi claims that the megadef blasphemed God in response to a legal dispute he had with another Israelite man, a battle which he lost in court.  A man from the tribe of Dan protested the megadef’s residence in his territory, and Moshe’s court ruled in favor of the Danite plaintiff.  The megadef thereupon went out to the public square and cursed God.

            These two versions of the story perhaps reflect the two common causes of “blasphemy,” of contempt for God and the Torah.  The first version of the story tells of a “theological crisis” of sorts, an inability to come to terms rationally with the Torah’s commands.  According to this view, the megadef rejected Torah because he saw it as illogical and nonsensical.  The second view, however, sees the megadef’s blasphemy as the result of a personal crisis, rather than a theological one.  In essence, he felt that Torah law worked against him and his interests.  It made life difficult and complicated, and the megadef had no interest in a system of law that did not work in his favor.  He would “buy into” a religion that made everything work out smoothly for him, not one which created complications and posed challenges.

Thus, these two versions of the megadef story reflect two different phenomena: the rejection of Torah due to theology, and the rejection of Torah due to personal interest.

One might wonder why the Torah chose not to specify the circumstances that led the megadef to blasphemy.  Why are we not given a clear picture of the background to this unfortunate episode?

We might suggest that the Torah specifically kept this story shrouded in mystery to indicate that, in the end, it doesn’t matter why the megadef blasphemed God.  The megadef was held accountable and was punished for his offense despite, and irrespective of, the factors that motivated him to blasphemy.  We are expected to embrace and remain loyal to the Torah even if we do not initially understand certain precepts, and even if the Torah’s laws pose difficult practical challenges.  We accept, embrace and observe the Torah out of a sincere belief and conviction that this is what God expects of us.  And while we search for answers to our questions and occasionally struggle to implement the complex system of Halakha, we nevertheless remain unwaveringly faithful to God and to every detail of His Torah.