Timeless Torah

Does serving God mean that one has to sacrifice one’s life? And if not literally, is one obligated to obliterate their personality and become someone they’re not? With all this hoopla surrounding, for G-d’s sake, a movie, some Jews may be wondering if that is what it takes to really be passionate about religion. Thank G-d (according to the real One), NO! In fact, it’s anathema to the very fundamentals of Judaism.

Don’t believe me? Check out the third book of the Bible called Vayikra (Leviticus) which provides the quintessential approach to how each of us can and should serve. At first, the Book hardly presents a serene picture of spiritual reverie. Indeed, its subject matter is more likely to evoke confusion, for some, even revulsion. For it is in Leviticus that we enter the bloody world of the Desert Sanctuary where the Jewish people brought animal sacrifices to atone for their sins. Why is that sublime and inspiring? And why should the offering an innocent animal define our service to Him?

Ramban, a classical Torah commentator explains that when a person had to bring a korban (animal sacrifice) that individual had to, “Envision that what was happening to the animal should have been happening to him.” Since it is we - our blood, our flesh, and our fat - who need to be cleansed of wrongdoing, G-d in His mercy gave us an alternative: we could replace ourselves with an animal that would endure this process in our stead.

The Ramban’s insight, however, only addresses the psychological impact of one who actually witnessed the gore of decapitation, dismemberment and burning on the altar. But Torah is not ancient history. Its every word is eternally relevant. In a Temple-less world, where there is no altar, no priests, and no sacrifice, these ideas are still valid. We need only look a little deeper to discover its message to our contemporary lives.

There are two polar forces within each of us. One that desires material pleasures...and one that yearns for G-dliness. Thus we are engaged in constant and inner turmoil. One part of of us desires to use our time and resources for a Higher Cause, while“the animal” within us wishes to indulge in selfish passions. The animal offerings in the Temple reflects the purpose of our Divine mission: To submit the animal within us to G-d.

In the Book’s opening sentence we read of the person who brought a sacrifice, “Adam ki yakriv mikem...” The Hebrew passage is grammatically a curious twist of words. Instead of saying, “When one of you will bring an offering,” the literal translation is, “When a person will bring an offering of you.” The “of you” reminds us we are not just bringing any animal to the altar, but the animal within us.

Offering yourself, meaning the animal in you, to G-d is the cornerstone of all Judaism. But how do you bring the animal in you? Do you avoid all human pleasure and live a somber life of deprivation and misery? Hardly. The Hebrew word korban provides the vital clue. While korban is often translated as sacrifice, the actual etymological root is kiruv, meaning to draw close.

We make ourselves a korban by bringing close the essence of our animal to G-d. We don’t annihilate it and we don’t squash it. We use it. True, an animal cannot behave in any way other than how G-d created it. By nature, bulls are aggressive, sheep are slothfully self-indulgent, and goats are stubborn. But the animal in us humans has a choice. We can be an obnoxious bully, or we can channel our aggressiveness towards assertively pushing for more productive spirituality. We can use our sheep like tendencies by indulging in lust, or we can get find pleasure in helping others.

At the heart of every character force in our lives, even the animal ones that manifest negative expression, lies a kernel that can be directed to a constructive and G-dly cause. So what do we sacrifice? Not our innate personalities, but our attitudes. Not our desires, but the object of our desires. And when we do, our essential natures emerge.

Should we give up our lives for religion? Throw away our unique talents, drives and goals? Certainly not! That would not be sacrifice, just a waste of a life. We shouldn’t give up our private and very personal animal; we should bring it closer to its purer state. When you become a korban, you have the opportunity to transform every aspect of yourself, to become the greatest person you can be; a person who no longer walks among the beasts, but hand and hand with G-d.

The story of the korban teaches us that serving God is not about self-annihilation but about self-actualization. So unlike the movie which is the tale of one dying person, the Book of Vayikra is the story of an entire living People.