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Conversation
Understanding Sacrifices
by
Yanki Tauber |
Skeptic: You know, your Moshiach idea was beginning to look no more ominous than
a touching bit of optimism for our ill-fated world. But then I came
across something which reinforced my first impression of it.
Believer: What was your first impression?
Skeptic: That it is a relic of an archaic past, a throwback to an age in which
people referred to religious ritual to define their relationship
with reality.
I was reading the final chapters
of Maimonides' Mishneh Torah--you know, where he writes about the
era of Moshiach--when I came across the part about the Holy Temple
and the sacrifices... I'm sure you know the passage that I'm referring
to...
Believer: I know. But why don't you quote it for the benefit of
our readers.
Skeptic: You mean our conversation is being published?! You've got to be kidding!
Believer: Why not? If you don't want your views to be known, we'll
keep it anonymous...
Skeptic: No, no no... it's not that at all. Anyway, here is the passage from Maimonides'
Laws of Kings, chapter 11:
"The King Moshiach will arise
and restore the kingdom of David to its glory of old, to its original
sovereignty. He will rebuild the Holy Temple and gather the dispersed
of Israel. In his times, all laws of the Torah will be reinstated
as before: the sacrifices will be offered and the Sabbatical and
Jubilee years instituted as commanded in the Torah...''
Believer: And you find the prospect disturbing.
Skeptic: To talk about a universal belief in G-d is one thing. But a Holy Temple,
with animal sacrifices whose blood is sprinkled on the alter and
its flesh ritually consumed by white-robed priests? You want to
bring all that back?
Believer: What about the ritual we call "dinner''?
A yearling calf is slaughtered,
its blood recycled as fertilizer, its bones ground to gelatin, its
hide tooled into $600 boots, and its flesh grilled a meticulous
medium-rare by a white-topped chef, borne aloft by white-shirted
waiters and solemnly consumed by white-tied diners to the sound
of piano music in a posh restaurant?
Skeptic: You're right---that's just as barbaric. Many times, while digging into
a steak, I've thought: "What right have I to consume the flesh
of another animal?'' It's not as if I couldn't live without it.
More than once I've resolved to stop eating meat.
Believer: Do you think that turning vegetarian would solve your
moral dilemma? If man lacks the right to consume the flesh of animals,
what right has he to consume any of his fellow creatures? If human
life is no more worthy than animal life, who decided that it is
more worthy than vegetable life?
For that matter, what "right''
have we to consume water or oxygen? And do you realize that by taking
a stroll through a flowering meadow on a summer afternoon, you destroy
thousands of seedlings and insects?
Skeptic: But an animal has feelings. It wants to live. It suffers pain.
Believer: And what if I kill it painlessly? Does that make it
all right? Everyone agrees that it is wrong to kill a fellow human
being, be it in the most painless and `humane'' manner, even if
one greatly profits from the deed.
The infliction of pain and suffering
is a secondary issue.
The real question is: If I am no
better than an animal, and even if I am "better,'' what justifies
my taking its life in order to fill my belly?
The same could be applied to all
existences: What right have I to kill a half-dozen roses in order
to beautify my mantelpiece, to pull out the weeds in my garden,
or to cut down trees and level a mountain in order to build a shopping
mall? What right have I to destroy any fellow being for my own benefit?
Skeptic: Listen, man cannot be more "moral'' than nature itself! The very
nature of existence determines that the mineral world sustain the
vegetable world, that they both be consumed by the animal kingdom,
that animals prey on each other, that thunderstorms start fires
which consume forests, that living tissue die and decompose and
nourish a new generation of life.
No one would consider the cat "immoral''
for tormenting the mouse---it does so out of mindless instinct.
Believer: So why these stirrings of vegetarianism in your soul?
Skeptic: Well, the human race is different in one very important respect. Man
does not act by instinct only.
We have been blessed with a discriminating
intelligence---we choose how and to what extent we will exploit
our fellow creatures to serve our needs.
To us, it is not only a question
of survival, but also of taste, convenience and pleasure. This is
what makes "morality'' an issue for us: how far should we go?
Believer: Indeed, how far should we go? Should we eat only vegetables?
Are milk or eggs okay? How about fish? If eating meat for pleasure
is morally acceptable, how about leather shoes or a fur coat? May
we relive our headaches with drugs that have been developed through
painful experimentation on animals? Attend a bullfight for entertainment?
And what about the one who claims that acting out his "killer
instinct'' by hunting large mammals fills a "deep psychological
need'' of his and allows him to experience a "spiritual oneness
with nature''?
Skeptic: Certainly, it's a complex issue. Most moral issues cannot be summed up
in terms of black and white--- we can only ponder their shades of
grey. That's why we debate them and grapple with them.
Believer: You remind me of a certain Israeli politician of whom
it was said that if you'd ask him if he would like coffee or tea
he'd answer "Half and half.''
I hate to break it to you, but there
are certain either/or issues in life.
Skeptic: So where would you draw the line?
Believer: If you'll bear with me for a few minutes more, I'll
tell you. I'll even get back to the sacrifices in the Holy Temple.
Skeptic: Please, go ahead.
Believer: Ultimately, there are only two ways of looking at ourselves
vis-a-vis our world. Either the natural order is the result of the
way things happened to have developed of their own accord--in which
case it is not really an "order'' at all--or else it is a purposeful
creation.
If nature has no meaning or purpose
beyond its own existence, then our "discriminating intelligence''
and "freedom of choice'' is probably just a figment of our
imagination.
If it does exist, then why? Is it
just another animal's tool for survival, like the tiger's claws
and the turtle's shell? Is it just there, for no particular reason?
In any case, the issue of "morality'' becomes a moot point.
Each individual may decide which
elements of his environment he is "allowed'' to consume and
for what purposes, and each such set of "moral'' standards
is as valid as any other.
Our second option is that our world
was designed and created by a purposeful Creator and thus exists
for a higher purpose, one that transcends its own existence and
continuity. In such a world, each creature's particular qualities
are not only implements for survival, but are also specific to the
role it fills in the realization of this purpose.
In light of this, a certain quality
that is unique to the human being, man's "Freedom of Choice,''
becomes particularly significant.
Skeptic: Why?
Believer: Because in speaking of a purpose to our world, we are
faced with a "catch-22'' of sorts: If the world was created
from nothing, then everything it has, all its potentials and possibilities,
have been given it by its Creator.
So how can anything the world produces
be anything more than what is already programmed into creation?
Say that you take a few colors and
combine then in different ways to produce many more shades of color.
Have you created something new? All you've done is bring to light
what already latently existed. It's like trying to program a computer
to select a truly "random'' number: since the computer's chips
and wires cannot invent anything, any number it comes up with is
ultimately determined by your program; ultimately, you are telling
the computer which number to choose.
The same can be asked about our
world: Since G-d created everything, how can we speak of a "purpose''
whose significance extends beyond what the world already is?
This is where man's freedom to choose
comes in.
If doing good and refraining from
evil were as instinctive to us as our ingestion of food and the
rejection of its wastes from our bodies, than our deeds would have
no more moral significance than the viciousness of the shark or
the dove's loyalty to its mate.
But because our behavior is free
and non- determined, because we can follow or resist our natural
tendencies at will, we can create something that goes beyond what
has been "programmed'' into creation.
The point of all this is that if
our world has a purpose, man is the focal point of this purpose.
As the only being with free choice,
only his actions are truly meaningful. So he is apex of creation,
the top of the pyramid: the only way in which any other creature
or element can be involved in the realization of the purpose of
creation is through its participation in the actions of man.
When man consumes the flesh of an
animal, and then uses the energy to do something positive and transcendental--say
he earns money and, despite his primal instinct to keep it all for
himself, gives some of it to charity--the animal has transcended
the limits of its own being, something it could never have achieved
on its own.
The Talmud sums it up this way:
"The entire world was created to serve me, and I was created
to serve my Creator.''
Skeptic: So man can exploit his environment in any way he chooses, so long as
he does good deeds and serves his Creator?
Believer: No, because man does not define how and with what the
Creator is to be served. The Creator defines it.
That's what the Torah is all about---it
is G-d's communication to man of His purpose in creation and the
manner in which it is to be achieved.
The Torah tells man that he may
eat the flesh of certain animals but not of others; that he may
eat meat, and milk, but not the two together; that he may cultivate
an orchard, but may not partake of its fruit for the first three
years after its trees have taken root; that six days a week he may
burn fuel to produce energy, but that it is forbidden to do so on
the Shabbos.
In short, the world is not man's
to do with as he desires. It exists to serve him in his service
of his Creator---not for his own selfish ends.
Skeptic: But if man can do perfectly well without meat, how does it contribute
to his service of the Creator? He could get the energy just as well
from other sources.
Believer: Man's pleasure in life can also become an integral part
of his service of G-d.
For example, it is a mitzvah to
pleasure the Shabbos and the festivals with meat and wine.
Another example is that of the great
Talmudic sage, Rava, who once remarked that were it not for the
delicious cut of beef he had for dinner his learning would not have
gone as well.
On the other hand, if a person seeks
pleasure merely for the sake of pleasure, he is indeed no better
than the animal he is consuming and his right to consume it is indeed
questionable.
This is why the Talmud says "A
boor is forbidden to eat meat.''
The bottom line is this: man has
no inherent right to consume anything merely to preserve or enhance
his own existence. But everything that G-d created realizes its
purpose through the actions of man.
So it is man's privilege, indeed
his duty, to utilize all the resources which have been placed at
his disposal to serve the Almighty.
Nowhere is this principle more powerfully
demonstrated than with the korbanot (animal sacrifices) offered
at the Holy Temple.
A typical korban was the shlomim,
or "peace offering.''
An ewe or she-goat was slaughtered.
Its blood was sprinkled on the sides
of the altar and certain veins of fat were removed and burned on
the altar's top.
Two of its choice cuts of meat were
given as gifts to the priests; the rest of the meat was eaten by
the one who brought the offering, but only under the strict conditions
of ritual purity.
Thus the blood, representing the
fervor and passion for the material involvements of life, and the
"fat,'' representing excessive indulgence and pleasure-seeking,
are to be sacrificed to G-d.
The "meat'' of the material,
after a certain portion of it is shared with others, is for a person's
own consumption, but only under conditions of holiness---only for
the sake of a higher end.
Other sacrifices, such as the chatos
(sin- offering), were given in their entirety to the priests, and
the olah was completely burned on the altar---representing those
circumstances in which certain parts of our world are completely
sanctified and off limits for personal use.
Skeptic: Everything you say can be applied to our lives today. Why do we need
a "Holy Temple'' with the sprinkled blood and all the other
gory details?
Believer: First of all, if you're going to eat meat, you need
a slaughterhouse and meat-packing plant replete with what you call
"all the gory details.''
But these details can be elevated
from their "goriness'' when sanctified as the means of man's
efforts to perfect G-d's creation.
But to answer your question: of
course, we can approach everything that we do with all the right
ideas.
In fact, the way our lives are currently
structured, that's just about all we can do---play mind games. When
we eat (or otherwise consume and benefit from the physical world)
with the intention to devote our energies to a higher purpose, we
elevate and sublimate those elements which sustain us.
But much of this remains abstract
and intangible-- the piece of meat is still the same piece of meat.
So despite the internal changes we effect in it, the tangible and
perceptible reality of our present-day world remains overwhelmingly
materialistic and egocentric.
The world of Moshiach, however,
is a world in which the spiritual content of our lives is as real
and as tangible as its physical implements.
In the words of Isaiah, "all
flesh will see'' the Divine essence of reality.
Thus, the focal point of this future
world is the Holy Temple, in which the presence of the Creator is
openly expressed, and the Temple service, with which the material
resources of our world are imbued with a holiness that is perceived
and experienced by man.
Skeptic: Just one question: did you ask the animal how he feels
about all this?
From: 17-18
Skeptic: You know something, I think that you are doing injustice to the idea
of Moshiach with your unyielding orthodoxy. You insist on preserving
the concept of Moshiach exactly as the Prophets spoke of it over
twenty-five centuries ago: the return of all Jews to the land of
Israel, the restoration of the royal house of David to the monarchy,
a Holy Temple, sacrifices---the works.
The idea behind all this is beautiful
and inspiring: the quest for a peaceful and harmonious world, a
world free of jealousy and hate, a world in which the pursuit of
wisdom takes the place of today's rat race for power and material
wealth.
The Prophets expressed this in terms
of their world, terms that hardly apply to our century.
Why don't you take the gist of what
``Moshiach'' stands for and discard its out-of-date packaging?
To my mind, your literal-minded
approach colors your entire message with a biblical-religious flavor
and detracts from its power and relevancy.
Believer: This brings us back to your earlier question, ``Why
bring G-d into the picture?'' You felt that everything that we are
speaking about--the inherent goodness of man, a meaning and destiny
to life and history--could be conceived of without a supreme creator
of life and author of history...
Skeptic: And you said that without G-d there can be no objective definition of
good nor a true sense of meaning to life. But even if Moshiach represents
the Divine purpose and end-goal of creation, why must it include
all the things I mentioned?
Believer: Well, its either one or the other. Were the Prophets
prophets or merely social philosophers? Were they putting forth
their own humanly conceived ideas--in which case we can take them
or leave them or else take whatever we identify with and reject
the rest--or were they indeed doing what they said they were doing,
conveying the word of G-d to humanity?
Skeptic: Even if G-d did speak to us through them, it is still G-d speaking 25
centuries ago. Perhaps their words represent what that generation
was to aspire to, while we must adapt these ideas to fit our times.
Believer: You know who you remind me of? You remind me of Feivel
the Coachman.
Skeptic: Who is Feivel the Coachman?
Believer: A character in an old Chassidic joke. Once, a group
of Chassidim decided that they wished to spend Chanukah with their
rebbe. The only problem was that it was already a week before the
festival, and no coachman was willing to guarantee that the long
and difficult journey could be made in that time.
Finally, they found Feivel, who,
eager for the high price the chassidim were offering, agreed to
their condition.
``If am not there by Chanukah,''
Feivel promised cheerfully, ``you owe me no thing.''
Anyway, they set out in the dead
of winter and, as the father of all cynics put it, anything that
could possibly go wrong, did.
One of the horses slipped on an
ice patch and broke its leg.
The coach skidded off the road and
had to be dug out of a snowdrift. They lost their way in the forest.
You get the picture.
In short, when Feivel and his coachfull
of Chassidim finally hobbled into the Rebbe's courtyard it was two
weeks after Chanukah.
When Feivel realized that his passengers
had no intention of paying him, he was outraged. He immediately
summoned them to the town's rabbinical court.
After carefully listening to the
arguments offered by both sides, the presiding rabbi ruled that
the Chassidim have no obligation to pay their hapless coachman.
Now poor Feivel turned on the rabbi:
``This is justice?! Have you no
heart? I work myself to the bone for a month, and I don't get anything
for my trouble?''
Patiently, the rabbi tried to explain.
``My dear man,'' he said, ``I do not decide these things on my own---I
can only rule by what the Torah says.
According to Torah law, if a person
makes a contract and is aware of all the implications of the agreement,
he is bound by it. There is absolutely no other decision I could
have arrived at.'' ``You mean the Torah says that they don't have
to pay me?'' demanded Feivel. ``Yes,'' replied the rabbi. ``Aha!''
cried the coachman triumphantly.
``Now I understand. The Torah was
given on Shavuos, right? On Shavuos the roads are perfect, the days
are long, the weather is beautiful. Of course! If I would have failed
to make the trip in time for Shavuos, they certainly ought not to
pay me. But had the Torah been given on Chanukah, it surely would
have ruled in my favor!''
Skeptic: That's a cute story, but still, you will certainly acknowledge
that times can change in a way that does affect the way we orient
our lives...
Believer: Just a minute. Let me explain the point that I wished
to make with the story.
Obviously, a law written in the
summer applies equally to the winter.
We assume that the author of the
law is well aware of the differences between summer and winter,
and that if the seasonal conditions are a factor he would have said
so explicitly.
Now, if G-d, before whom the entirety
of time is an open book, communicates to us His vision of a perfect
world and says to us, "This is the goal of my creation. This
is what I want you to make of my world'' are we to assume that a
day, a year, or a millennium later the message no longer applies?
Skeptic: So what are we to make of the fact that the Torah's description of the
messianic era--a king, a Holy Temple, etc.--appears to be 2,000
years out of date? Perhaps G-d wants us to constantly re-assess
this vision and to re-apply to the times in which we live?
Believer: Look, I think that we have to get to the root of our
differing perspectives on the "datedness'' of the Torah. Earlier,
we had a long discussion on two of the issues connected with Moshiach
that are "archaic'' in your eyes---Moshiach's kingship and
the korbanot in the Holy Temple. I explained their ageless significance
and relevancy, and you probably saw my words as a philosophical
effort to force deeper meaning into concepts that my stubborn orthodoxy
refuses to let go of.
Until we clarify our views on what
exactly the Torah is, we will be forever talking circles around
each other.
Skeptic: Okay, I'll let you talk circles first (you seem to be pretty good at
it). How do you see Torah?
Believer: First of all, let me say this:
If the Torah seems "out of
date'' today, then it was far more out of date on the morning of
the revelation at Sinai 3,305 years ago.
Think of all the then revolutionary
ideas which Torah introduced:
The concept of a One G-d.
Prohibitions against murder, theft,
rape, incest, or the sacrifice of one's children to a pagan god.
The obligation to honor and provide
for one's parents.
The duty to share one's wealth with
the needy.
Today, we find it incredible that
such things needed to be commanded to us, but back then, they were
no less fantastic than those elements of Torah which you find so
hard to accept.
What happened? Two million plus
people took G-d's plan for existence and began to implement it in
their lives, regardless of how well it fit in with the world in
which they lived. Over the millennia, they inspired other monotheistic
and near- monotheistic religions and great social movements.
They deeply influenced many other
doctrines, legal systems, ideologies and cultures. In a word, they
brought the world that much closer to the Torah's ethos and ideals.
Torah is not a creed which came
in response to a given century and set of circumstances, but one
which came to impose its principles and practices on an as-of-yet
unperfected world. So it is always out of date.
It is the "times'' which are
steadily approaching the Torah, not the other way around. If the
Torah were entirely "up to date'' it would mean that it has
fulfilled its function---it would mean that Moshiach has come.
Skeptic: As you said, that is your view of Torah. Others may have different theories
on the matter...
Believer: Still, I think that before anyone formulates his own
"theory'' on what the Torah is, he ought to be aware of how
the Torah sees itself...
Skeptic: That's exactly what I've been saying to you until I'm blue in the face:
How can you tell me what I am, instead of asking me how I define
myself!
Of course, my self-definition may
be wrong, and you might know some things about me that I'm not aware
of.
That's how psychoanalysts get rich.
But to consruct a theory about someone or something without first
consulting its own self-definition is not only arrogant---it's downright
foolish!
Believer: I agree. And I wonder how many why people who've expounded
on the Torah and its function know what the Torah says about itself.
Here, this is from the Midrash Rabba on the first chapter of Genesis:
"The Torah says: `I was the
tool of G-d's artistry.' An architect who builds a palace does not
do so on his own: he has scrolls and notebooks which he consults
how to place the rooms, where to set the doors.
So it was with G-d: He looked into
the Torah and created the world.''
In other words, the world that G-d
created in the initial "six days of creation'' represents not
the completion of His works, but the installation of the raw materials
of which man is to develop the finished product.
At Sinai, the architect delivered
his plans to his contractors: G-d communicated the Torah to man,
imparting His vision of reality to those whom He had charged to
implement it in his creation.
Imagine, then, the workman who consults
the original state of his materials rather than the architect's
plan.
"The blueprint calls for a
square plank,'' he muses, "but the log I have is round. Perhaps
we can edit the plans a little?''
Why labor to change the world, if
we can conform our moral vision to reflect it?
Skeptic: You know, I've noticed that we're forever getting off the subject. We
start talking about Moshiach, and we end up discussing the basic
questions of life: good and evil, freedom and servitude, totalitarianism
and pluralism, orthodoxy versus revisionism...
Believer: But all that is THE subject.
Moshiach is not a side issue but
the sum total of everything the Jew believes in.
That why it is one of the thirteen
"foundations'' of Judaism. If life has meaning, it leads to
Moshiach.
Reprinted with permission from The
Week In Review
|
