Vayikra                                                       5 Nisan 5767 / March 24, 2007

 

 

I don’t know how many of you rushed out to see Mel Gibson’s movie “Apocalypto.” In my book it had many a strike against, not the least of which it was produced by Mr. Gibson. But beyond that it was yet another movie in an obscure language. (I confess that I have often enjoyed foreign films, even if it means reading the subtitles, preferring, however, foreign films where I know a little of the language.)  But most importantly, the biggest strike against it was all of the gore. I am not a big fan of gore. And the movie was filled with violence. Countless people are killed and some are sacrificed alive, with their hearts ripped out. Yuk. From the perspective of the early 21st century, we can readily adopt a holier than thou attitude and decry such worship.

 

If we frame the descriptions of Leviticus against the savagery and brutality of Mayan practice, clearly Leviticus comes out ahead. But, I suspect most of us are not eager to re-establish the Temple and create a giant slaughterhouse and barbecue center in the heart of Jerusalem. The sentiment of our liturgy, which has transformed the hope of the restoration of sacrifice into a pious recollection of it, resonates with us. Most of us are not vegetarians, nevertheless, give us our meat nicely packaged, distantly removed from the abattoirs in which the animals are slaughtered and butchered.

 

And yet, let me briefly suggest that if we just go “ugh” and shrug our shoulders as we read through the descriptions of the sacrificial order—and the Biblical descriptions are tame compared to what the rabbinic expansions of the text offer, blood being dashed nearly everywhere--, then we will have missed out on some enduring lessons.

 

First, if you paid attention to the core of this morning’s reading, about the Asham, the sacrifice offered for a transgression that only comes to light later, you will have seen that there is a sliding scale. The reading begins by stating that the one who has sinned brings a female from the flock, a sheep or goat. But then it continues by stating: “But if his means do not suffice for a sheep, he shall bring to the Lord, as his penalty for that of which he is guilty, turtledoves or two pigeons…” And if even that modest animal offering is beyond his means, he can bring a grain offering. And what is true about this sacrifice, is essentially true about all of the obligatory sacrifices: there is a sliding scale. Participation in the rites and rituals of the cult are not restricted to those with deep pockets. The perpetual challenge of the Jewish community is to be able to maintain our institutions—and institutions require funding, just as the ancient Temple did--, and at the same time to be open and welcoming to all, regardless of their financial status; that everyone can participate. And I happen to know that this congregation makes a major effort to be fiscally accommodating. Beth-El is certainly trying to live up the Biblical ideal.

 

Second. In the section we began with it, which speaks of the Chatat of the sin offering, you will see that, here, too, there is a sliding scale of participation. But if you had glanced back a few verses, you will have discovered that there are sections that single out officials of the community. It begins with the Kohen Gadol, with the High Priest, continues with the elders and then the chieftans and finally reaches the level of the larger community. There is a sense here that those in charge of the community can’t just shrug their shoulders and say, “Sure, mistakes were made; get over it; let’s not look back, but let’s go forward.”  Rather, it posits that leaders, at all levels must all acknowledge their shortcomings and furthermore make real atonement. The perks of office do not grant the office-holder immunity. And indeed, as we have seen recently in Israel, the higher you go, the greater scrutiny is directed at you and failings are not swept under the carpet; rather they are pursued with great vigor. Back here in the US of A, the belated confession of Newt Gingrich that he was having an affair at the same time he was leading the charge against Bill Clinton for his dalliance with Monica Lewinsky is not an example of what the Bible has in mind, though certainly a welcome confession of hypocrisy. For there was no real act of atonement with his confession.  (Just remember this is the same man who pressed his first wife to sign divorce papers while she was in the hospital recuperating from cancer surgery. A mensch he is not.) Whether this will give him back political credibility I leave to the pundits. But for those of us in leadership positions, the idea that we don’t get a pass because we are leaders, but on the contrary, have to be ever more vigilant and ready to admit to our shortcomings, is sobering.

 

And finally, though by no means the only lesson to be drawn from this ancient system, is the idea encapsulated at the very end of this morning’s Torah reading, namely that fraud and other crimes which we might label today as white-collar crimes also require atonement. It entails more than coping a plea. The guilty party who has defrauded, be it the sanctuary or an individual, has to do more than make restitution. He/she must do so at $1.25 on the dollar. And only having made the restitution with the built-in-25% fine, can one finalize atonement through the act of offering up a sacrifice. I’m not sure what would be the equivalent today for all the individuals in public service who have defrauded their communities. Indeed, this kind of fraud seems like an epidemic. Scarcely a day doesn’t go by without reading about some administrator or public official who has embezzled tens of thousands, if not millions of dollars. Restitution never seems to be complete; few of them are penitent or contrite; and the time they spend in jail seems little compared to the damage they have inflicted not only misappropriating communal funds which were destined for worthy ends, but also by having destroyed trust in their office. For example, in the wake of the scandal in Roslyn, administrators and members of the Board of Education across the Island are under suspicion. The price of the fraud goes way beyond the dollar amount.

 

There was an ancient Jewish tradition that children began the study of Torah not with Genesis and the story of creation, but rather with the Book of Leviticus, for it was argued that innocent and holy children should begin their studies with the rites that were deemed to keep a people holy. Viewed with these spectacles, with this vision that saw in these admittedly primitive forms of worship, a vision of consecrated lives, we can begin to understand the import of these texts centuries later. These are not mere refinements of the savagery of the ancient Mayans, but the beginnings of a formulation of a system of ethical norms that should resonate even now for all of us.

 

Shabbat shalom.