VAYIKRAH

Vayikrah (Leviticus Chapters 1-5) is the first parsha of a book that mostly describes our ancestors’ practices of sacrifice to YHVH. Sacrifice is a core traditional religious practice that is common to many indigenous societies.  It is mostly designed to restore right relationships with the divine when something has gone wrong. A secondary purpose is as an expression of gratitude.

The parsha describes three kinds of offerings—olah, shelamim and hattatOlah is often translated as “burnt” though it literally means ascending or elevation.   Shelamim means wholeness or peace. It is often translated as well being.  Hattat means sin, but these are offerings for unintentional offenses, not deliberate breaking of the rules. 

As I do the summaries in Vaykirah, I will often go chapter by chapter because I find the text confusing.  The reason for the confusion is that this is a book with very few narrative stories, so I am looking for a way to organize the mass of details and I think by chapter, following our ancestors who created the chapters, seems a reasonable way.

Chapter 1 describes olah offerings of animals.  Chapter 2 different ways grain can be used for olah offerings.  Chapter 3 takes on shelamim,  peace or well being offerings.  These are actually offerings of gratitude and most of the meat is eaten by the family that offers the sacrifice, though you would never know that from the text in Chapter 3 which only describes the details of the offering. Chapter 4 starts hattat or sin offerings.  Chapter 5 is a hodgepodge of sin offerings, covering some different ways someone might sin, what to do if you can’t afford animal offerings and then the cases where there’s a 20% tax or surcharge on your offerings (5:14-26).  There’s also a clear discussion in each chapter of the role of the person offering the sacrifice and the priestly role.

The texts in Leviticus are priestly texts par excellence.  One of the burdens of the book is to make sure that the only sanctioned sacrifices are done though the priesthood in priestly controlled space. In the mythical wilderness, this is in the courtyard of the mishkan. Later on it will be only in the Temple in Jerusalem.  This is part of the tension between the court and the countryside and part of the power play of the Temple priesthood.

I want to discuss four themes,

  • The terms used for the person doing the offering.

  • The person doing the offering always places one hand on the animal

  • There is a hierarchy of offerings and it reflects societal values that we might not share.

  • Atonement (or as Arthur Waskow teaches, At-One-Ment) is effected by the priest, not by the sacrifice or the person offering by themselves.

The terms used for the person doing the offering are, in order, “earthling”, (adam) “ensouled person” (nefesh) and “man” (ish).  These three terms, I suggest, offer us a vision of human wholeness.  This is the wholeness that sacrifice seeks to repair through olah (burnt)  or hattat (sin) offerings.  This is the wholeness that sacrifice seeks to embody in shlamim (well being) offerings.

“Speak to the children of Israel.  And you shall say to them:  a human from you who will make an offering to YHVH—you shall make your offering from the domestic animals, from the herd and from the flock.” (1:2).  The word for human is adam, from the same root as the word for soil, adamah, and my preferred translation is “earthling”. “And a person (nefesh) who will make an offering” (2:1).  Nefesh is a common term for one of the levels of the soul, which is why I have offered the translation of “ensouled person.” “And the priest who brings forward a man’s (ish) burnt offering.” (7:8).  Ish is a male human

Friedman points out that that Leviticus offers us the same three words for human in the same order as Genesis does.  Here it is adam (1:2), then nefesh (2:1) and ish (7:8).  For Genesis, it is  adam 1:26, nefesh 2:7 and ish 2:23.  I agree it links the two books.  What are the implications of that?

Sacrifice, the linkage suggests, is a kind of second creation or recreation of the human being.  Further, the linkage suggests a tight connection amongst the earth, the divine through the soul and the human community.  Wholeness then is what happens when these three factors are rightly aligned. 

Sacrifice is a means to the reestablishment of wholeness, a wholeness that has been broken because of whatever occasions the need for the sacrifice.  This right relationship begins with the connection with the earth. Then there’s the connection with the divine and last is the human centric term for a human comes last.

In our world, it’s almost the complete opposite.  We mostly think of ourselves as humans only in connection with the human only world. Societally, we give a lot of lip service to our connection with the divine, but it is mostly lip service. And our connection to the earth, to the more than human world is most remote. Further, we have no sense at all that wholeness entails the alignment of these three factors of our connection with the earth, the divine and the human community.

How would you assess the state of your relationships with the earth, with the divine and with a human community?  How would you assess the state of your relationship with all three of those in an interconnected whole.

One way to approach the importance of this nexus of land, the divine and community is to examine our personal histories with peak experiences. Sacrifice is presented in prosaic detail in Leviticus (to understate the case), so I invite you to examine how this connection has played out in your life.  Here’s a few sentences on how it has played out in mine.

I have had peak experiences connected with the more than human world.  Depending on how you define peak experiences (not my focus here), these started perhaps in Israel when I was 18 and I have had multiple others since then where I have had this enormous sense of belonging to the world. Only without being able to connect those experiences to the divine and/or a human community, I haven’t known how to follow through and let that experience change me.

I’ve had peak experiences connected only to the divine when I sat Zen.  I found that incredibly frustrating because they weren’t connected to the human realm or to the earth. The very structure of Zen felt to me like it was both stronger in the presence of other people but there was always, by design, an isolation from other people who you were supposed to let have their own experience.  Frustration.

I have had peak experiences where I have been connected only to the human world in hotel ballrooms.  I love the high of personal growth seminars.  Only it is exactly akin to the sugar high of cotton candy.  This is a human centric experience, and the peak experiences didn’t wind up being transformative, because they lacked the connection with the divine and the earth.

I completely believe that for we humans, we need all three together—the earth, the divine and the human community.

How would you assess the state of your relationships with the earth, with the divine and with a human community?  How would you assess the state of your relationship with all three of those in an interconnected whole?

What’s been your history with peak experiences with the earth, with the divine and with the human only world in isolation, if any.  Did they stick?  Any experience with two of three or with all three?

The earthling “shall lay his hand on the head of the burnt (olah) offering and it will be accepted for him.” (1:4, see also 3:2, 3:8, 3:12—you get the idea).   In our world where we view prayer as an offering that has replaced sacrifice, we don’t need to embody our prayer in any particular way.  We focus on what words we might speak, how they might express our hearts or be inadequate to express them.  But the earthlings lay their hands on the sacrifice, and then they actually slaughter the sacrifice themselves (if it is an animal sacrifice).  “And he shall slaughter the herd animal in front of YHVH, and the sons of Aaron, the priests, shall bring the blood forward and fling the blood on the altar, all around.” (1:5)

There’s a really physical component of sacrifice that’s far more than just standing up, sitting down or even swaying in prayer. The sacrifice is only accepted by the priest if the earthlings bringing the sacrifice perform their end of things properly—and properly includes these physical elements.  I’ve talked about this before when we were first introduced to the demand that the offering be a sweet smelling thing to YHVH.  Here we are being introduced to the element of touch.

There’s also a question of life and death.  I’d venture to say that none of us think of our prayer practice as a matter of life and death—but it sure is for the animal who is being sacrificed and for the earthling who is slitting its throat.

I want to offer two rituals that I do during Elul that are as close as I’ve ever come to connecting prayer and life and death.  The first is to write an obituary or eulogy (might or might not be the same) for yourself. Imagine you are dead.  What would you want said about yourself as an obituary or eulogy?  The second is called a death lodge.  I think the lineage of a death lodge is Native American in origin, mediated by the School of Lost Borders. The idea is based on a practice found in some native American traditions where an elder who is about to die takes him or herself out of the community and goes up a hill and sings a death song.  As modified, the idea is to invite people through active imagination, to come and have the final conversations that they need to have with you before you die so that no one can say something like “I wish I had said to them x, y, z before they died.”  Do this somewhere you have lots and lots of privacy.

Do you have a prayer practice? Does it explicitly incorporate physical elements without which it would automatically not be complete?  How could you connect the themes of life and death with prayer?

There is a hierarchy of offerings.  First, the animals are more valuable than the grain, even though experts estimate that grains were 50% of the calories in ancient Israel.  Wikipedia says “meat, usually goat and mutton, was eaten rarely by most Israelites and was reserved for special occasions such as celebrations, festival meals, or sacrificial feasts. The wealthy ate meat more frequently.”  How do we know meat is more valuable?  “And if his hand will not attain enough for a sheep, then he shall bring as his guilt offering for having sinned two turtledoves or two pigeons to YHVH (5:7).  But “if his hand cannot attain enough for two turtledoves or two pigeons, then he shall bring as his offering for having sinned a tenth of ephah of fine flour for a sin offering” (5:11). 

Then there is the hierarchy of animals and males and females.  An anointed priest who sins, causing the people to sin has to offer a male bull (4:3).  The community as a whole has to also offer a bull (4:13-14). A chieftan has to sacrifice a male goat. (4:22-23) and a non priest has to sacrifice a female goat (4:27-28) or lamb (4:32).

I think it is fair to conclude that animals are viewed as more valuable than grain, males are more valued than females, and cattle more than sheep and goats.  But this doesn’t actually make ecological sense. Grain is much more important as a food stuff than meat, when survival is an issue.  Males are worth less than females, because one male can service (yes, that’s the actual verb used in English), i.e get pregnant, multiple females and having extra bulls, rams or billy goats around is not the way anyone wants to manage livestock because it is dangerous to the shepherd.  That’s the core reason for neutering male livestock. Then lastly, sheep and goats are much more adapted to the ecological conditions of most of the land of Israel than are cattle.

When I raised cattle, I and everyone else wanted a balance of male and female calves, the females to keep and grow the herd, the males to sell and turn into meat to eat.  If I were a non priest bringing an animal to sacrifice for atoning for my sins or expressing gratitude, I’d want to bring a male, not a female because the female was more valuable—just the opposite of what our text says.

The seven species, wheat, barley, olives for oil, grapes, dates for honey, figs, and pomegranates were all more valuable to our ancestors than meat.  Females are more valuable than males.  The value system embedded in the parsha feels like a patriarchal distancing from ecological reality, at least to me. 

What would a sacrificial system based on ecological values look like?  This might be too difficult for most folks to answer.  So  how do we say to the divine in the context of making physical offerings, we pray for a healthy ecosystem with balance restored and here is a small token of our appreciation, a gift that you might listen to our petition?

Atonement is effected by the priest. Here’s what it says at the conclusion of the sin offering from the whole congregation of Israel.  “And the priest shall make atonement over them, and it will be forgiven for them.” (4:20) The consistent pattern is:

The earthlings making the sacrifice do the actual killing of the animals.

The priests do the rest of the ritual.

Atonement comes through the mediation of the priests.

In this system, atonement is NOT something between the earthling and the divine, but has to be mediated by the priest.

The question of mediated relationships with the divine looks different in a mystical context than in a non mystical one.  Mystics would say that the goal is to have a direct encounter with the divine.  That encounter, as testified to by many, many mystics, is beyond/outside of words. I would suggest that as soon as we start to describe the encounter, our choice of human words automatically gives us a description mediated by the community to which we belong. 

Mediated relationships in a non mystical context refers to the ability of an individual to connect with the divine, even given the mediation of language and community.  The core question is whether our connection to the divine has to be through another person or not.  Even in the days of the second Temple when sacrificed was still practiced, the kind of mediation we see in Leviticus was viewed as problematic with a lot of resistance to the primacy of sacrifice coming from the prophets and the groups that became the Rabbis. 

However, the idea of mediation is certainly present in the Hasidism to which many of us look for spiritual teachings.  One core function of the Rebbe is to act as a mediator for his (sorry for the sexism) Hasidim.   To the extent that we want to learn from Hasidism, we would be remiss to ignore the idea their belief in religious superstars who have access to the divine in a way that you or I don’t.  The ancient Israelite priesthood was hereditary, so you were either born into it or not.  Anyone can become a Rabbi, but I think for the most part, we don’t view them as having more of a pipeline to God than anyone else. But not everyone, Hasidism taught, can be a rebbe.

There’s an obvious danger in religious superstars.  If they have not dealt with their shadow sides, then they can use their power to perpetrate evil. There’s a really long history of religious male superstars abusing their power in a sexual way with their female students.

Other religious communities also struggle with the question of mediation between the divine and an individual.  This was one of the great flashpoints in the ideological conflict between Catholicism and Protestantism, for instance.

How do you think about mediation between you and the divine?  Do you believe that there are religious superstars who have access to the divine in a way that you or I don’t?  Do you think anyone can become a superstar? 

QUESTIONS

How would you assess the state of your relationships with the earth, with the divine and with a human community?  How would you assess the state of your relationship with all three of those in an interconnected whole?

What’s been your history with peak experiences with the earth, with the divine and with the human only world in isolation, if any.  Did they stick?  Any experience with two of three or with all three?

Do you have a prayer practice? Does it explicitly incorporate physical elements without which it would automatically not be complete?  How could you connect the themes of life and death with prayer?

What would a sacrificial system based on ecological values look like?  This might be too difficult for most folks to answer.  So  how do we say to the divine in the context of making physical offerings, we pray for a healthy ecosystem with balance restored and here is a small token of our appreciation, a gift that you might listen to our petition?

How do you think about mediation between you and the divine?  Do you believe that there are religious superstars who have access to the divine in a way that you or I don’t?  Do you think anyone can become a superstar? 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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