Leviticus: A Different Take

The third book of the Torah, Vayikra, (Leviticus) has a bad rep. "Ugh, sacrifices... too much gore, too messy..." As my Bubbi Gene used to say with her thick Russian accent, dropping the two L's in favor of a W: "who da hell needs it!"

In light of the above, the following may come as a surprise. The lesser-known definition of the Hebrew word for sacrifice, Korban, means to "DRAW CLOSE."

Let me back it up a drop. The Exodus was not merely a freedom from backbreaking labor: It was also an opportunity to flee from pagan rites that could be equally mind-numbing. The release from forced labor camps was merely the forerunner to the subsequent, and very gradual, 49-day lead-up to a collective staking of the higher ground at Sinai. An emancipation that encompassed a focus on the renewal of mind and spirit as well.

Unlike many pagan rites, and some widely held myths about Judaism, the KORBANOT (offerings) were never set up as a crude attempt to placate the gods. Faith can be challenging enough without having to work through the implications of worshipping a deity that can be "bought off" with a chicken or goat and a cinnamon-flavored hookah.

What then is it all about?

One word. Love. This third section of TORAH, the book we love to hate, is really the book we should learn to love.

Yes, drawing close to G-d through the offerings was indeed messy and gory, just as love can frequently be. But like the art of love, the practice of offering sacrifices focused on giving as a pathway to closeness: not its cheap "give to get" imitation.

The "Korban Todah" is but one of many perfect examples. These offerings of "Thanksgiving," at their core, were a means of cultivating a mindset of gratitude and acceptance.

The "Sin" offerings were another example. They too were not meant to function as a "slap on the wrist" payoff either. To the contrary, they were merely the coup de grace: the finishing touches that signaled the completion of a comprehensive process known as Teshuva. This word, often translated as "repentance," was in fact so much more. A serious set of protocols that encompassed the full gamut of making amends: acknowledging the misdeed, (whether directed to man or G-d), addressing the damage one inflicted, expressing remorse and regret, followed by a renewed commitment to refrain from these actions moving forward. The sacrifice was merely a gesture that signaled the completion of this arduous process of reconciliation.

Hmm. If these and many other similar sacrificial gestures can't be seen as promoting the closeness of love, then I'm not sure what else does.

Rashi, as always, provides the icing on the cake. He notes that when G-d prefaces a communique, in this instance to Moses, with the (seemingly) unnecessary preface of "Vayikra" — "and he called out to Moses" — rather than getting right down to the business of "SPEAKING" the Mitzvot, what we are "hearing" is the G-d of friendship and love express his affection to Moses. Only then does he resume his role as the G-d of the COMMANDMENTS.