Tzav: Even Law-Breakers Deserve Some Respect

by Rav Hillel Fendel.

Technical laws, when they are given by G-d's holy Torah, can teach us much about even our inter-personal relations.

This week's Torah portion of Tzav (Leviticus, Chapters 6-8), discusses many details of the Holy Temple service. For instance, the sin-offering sacrifice (ḥatat) is to be slaughtered in the northern part of the Temple's main Priestly section, north of the large Altar. The Torah does not tell us this detail in a straightforward manner; we rather have to figure it out ourselves. How so?

The Torah states, "In the place that the burnt-offering [olah] is slaughtered, there the ḥatat shall be slaughtered" (Vayikra 6,18). And where is this place, the Talmud asks (Z'vahim 48a)? It is in the north, as written, "He shall slaughter [the olah] north of the Altar." (Though the context is referring to the Priest, the owner of the sacrifice may also slaughter; see Z'vahim 31b.)

This simple but technical law regarding the location of the hatat offering teaches us a very important ethical lesson: If there would have been a specific place set aside only for sin-offerings, then the sinners who bring them would be quite embarrassed; everyone who sees them in that place would realize that they have sinned. In order to prevent this, the sinners and those who bring other sacrifices are all assigned to the same place. So explains the Jerusalem Talmud (Yevamot 8,3).

How does the Talmud know that this is the reason for slaughtering the ḥatat there? Perhaps there is something special about the "northern" part of the Altar? The answer is that though this is certainly true, it seems obvious that the Torah could have simply stated straight out, "Slaughter it in the north!" But it didn't; it rather linked the ḥatat with the place of the olah, indicating to our Sages that the place of the ḥatat is not connected specifically to the north, but rather just that it should be together with other sacrifices – in order to avoid embarrassment.

There are several other Torah laws as well that teach us that the dignity even of sinners must be maintained. For instance, it is well-known that our primary prayer, the Amidah (Shmoneh Esreh), must be recited quietly. Why is this? Because it includes the blessing S'laḥ lanu, "Forgive us for we have sinned," in which the worshiper can add his own words of repentance for specific sins. In order that others not hear his words of confession, the entire Amidah is recited silently.

Even a thief in the midst of carrying out his crime is sometimes given extra consideration! The Torah tells us (Sh'mot 21,37): "If a man steals an ox or sheep and sells it or slaughters it, he is liable to pay five [times the value] of the ox, or four times the sheep." Why the difference between an ox and a sheep? Rashi cites the famous explanation of the Talmudic sage R. Yochanan: Because the thief must carry the sheep on his shoulders, he is "compensated" for the blow to his dignity by having to pay less than one who steals an ox, which can walk on its own. Both are gravely punished, of course, but the Torah makes this "token" difference in order to teach us how careful we must be when dealing with a human being – even a sinner.

Another fascinating example:

The Torah tells us (D'varim 20) that during wartime, everyone must participate in the battles – except for certain exceptions. These include one who built a new house and did not yet dedicate it; one who betrothed a woman and did not yet marry her – and one who is afraid. R. Yosi HaGlili explains in the Talmud that this refers not necessarily to one who is physically afraid, but rather fears that his sins will cause him to lose Divine protection. And the reason all of these exceptions are grouped together is so that no one will know who is turning back from the war because of his sins and who for the other reasons. Again we see that the sinner must be accorded the same "protection from shame" that everyone else is.

It should also be noted that when, unfortunately, a death sentence must be carried out, a woman convict is treated extra modestly – for even when she is about to be executed, her dignity is still an important priority.

Let us bring a final example, unconnected to sinners, but one that emphasizes how careful we must be not to shame another – even inadvertently! If Reuven owes money to Shimon, but he does not have the money to pay him back, Shimon must be careful not to have Reuven even see him on the street! That is, when Shimon sees Reuven happening to walk in his direction, Shimon must cross over to the other side, so that Reuven not be embarrassed before him. So precious are the Torah's ways and commandments!

As we began: "In the place where the olah is slaughtered, there – and not in its own reserved section – shall the hatat be slaughtered."

Tzav: Be Careful Not to Sin the Name of Religion

by Rav Moshe Leib HaCohen Halbershtat, founder and head of the Yoru Program for the Training of Rabbis and Community Leaders, yeshiva.org.il, translated by Hillel Fendel.

This week's Torah portion - Tzav (Vayikra, chapters 6-8) – continues to discuss the laws of sacrificial offerings. In it, we read that G-d "commanded the Children of Israel to bring their sacrificial offerings to G-d" (7,38). 

Sacrifices are a Divine commandment. How, then, can we understand the words of the Prophet Yirmiyahu, who exclaimed (7,22): "For I did not speak to your fathers and I did not command them... concerning burnt-offerings or sacrifices"?  

This question is asked by the renowned Torah commentator Rabbeinu Bachye ben Asher (1255-1340, Spain). He answered that G-d definitely commanded us to bring sacrifices – and that this is because of His great compassion for us. For every person is liable to sin, and in fact no one is ever saved from it, even the righteous – as written in Ecclesiastes: "For there is no person in the world who is a tzaddik who does only good and does not sin" (7,20). And therefore, Rabbeinu Bachye continues, G-d commanded us to bring sacrifices so that we may atone for our sins and not be punished. But in truth, G-d's true desire is that we abide by His will and not sin, and then we would not have to bring sacrifices. G-d actually does not want us to bring sacrifices; He would rather that we hearken to His words in the first place! And this, Rabbeinu Bachye explains, is what the Prophet meant when he said that G-d did not command us to bring sacrifices.

This idea is backed up in other places, such as when the Prophet Shmuel told the nation, "Does G-d desire burnt-offerings and sacrifices as much as He wants you to abide by His word? [No!] Hearkening is better than sacrifices…" (Shmuel I 15,22). There are other examples as well. Rabbeinu Bachye adds that if he who brings the sacrifice does not listen to G-d, his offering is not acceptable, but is rather called "the offering of wicked ones, an abomination to G-d" (Mishlei 15,8). And the Prophet Yeshayahu says (66,23) that bringing such an offering is actually an all-out sin, in that he is killing an animal for no reason. 

Why oh Why? 

What would cause a sinner to waste his time and money by going to the Beit HaMikdash in Jerusalem to bring a sacrifice that not only has no value, but is actually a sin in and of itself? What can he be thinking?

The explanation is that such sinners do not comprehend a simple fundamental in Torah faith: The head must come before the heart, and understanding must precede emotions. In D'varim (4,39-40), we read that Moshe tells Israel: "You must know today, and turn it to your heart, that the Lord is G-d in the heavens above and on the earth beneath; there is no other." Note that "knowledge of G-d" comes before the heart's duty. The principle taught here for keeping the mitzvot is that one's faith must be based first on studying and knowing, and only afterwards can, and should, the heart and its feelings be added. When one does the opposite and bases his faith and Torah observance on his feelings, and only then begins to study, the results are liable to be distorted. Building an ideology based only one's emotions can end up being tragic.

That's what happened during the times of the Beit HaMikdash. The sinners were willing to invest time, effort, and money in bringing undesired sacrifices simply because they put their heart before their brain. They were emotionally attached to the sacrificial service, as it was something that was in style, gave them a good feeling, and even made them feel as if they were great tzaddikim. They built an entire distorted ideology that, to them, justified their evil deeds. But if they had first studied and used simple, straight logic, they would have realized that sacrifices have no positive value if the person has not sincerely abandoned his sinful ways. 

Rabbi Jacob Joseph, Chief Rabbi of New York some 130 years ago, wrote an article entitled, "Hatred for the Sake of Heaven." He explained there the importance of recognizing that a given act might actually be a sin. That is, if one deceptively convinces himself that what he is doing is not only not sinful, but actually a praiseworthy act, there is little chance that he will be able to regret or atone for it. He will not be able to accept any criticism or rebuke, and will simply continue to sink further and further into sin. Only if he does not fool himself, and recognizes at least that he is acting wrongfully for whatever reason, is there a chance that he will one day return to the Torah path.

My revered father tells that his Rebbe, Rabbi Chaim Pinchas Scheinberg, of blessed memory, once told his students in Yeshivat Torah Ohr in Jerusalem a story about Rabbi Yisrael Salanter, the great Mussar teacher. One day, in the middle of prayers in the synagogue, a man burst through the door in a frenzy so that he could "catch Kedusha," that is, recite the Kedusha prayer that can only be said with a quorum of ten. However, on his rushed way in, he stepped on someone's foot and dirtied his shoe. After the prayer, Rav Salanter called the man over and spoke to him softly but firmly: "You were rushing to do a precious mitzvah, but it is totally disqualified if by doing so, you cause damage to someone else."

Rabbi Scheinberg added that this story clearly demonstrates a fundamental principle that Rabbi Salanter would always warn his students about: "Make sure you don't have any frum negios,” meaning: Don't allow yourself to be bribed by your own religious considerations! For when a person is convinced that what he's doing is his religious obligation, it will be very hard, if not impossible, for him to ever recognize that he might actually be committing a sin. Teshuvah (repentance) can only ever be accomplished if one does not try to deceive himself.