TORAH SPARKS
Parshat Achrei Mot-Kedoshim
April 29, 2023 | 8 Iyyar 5783
Torah: Leviticus 16:1-20:27 Triennial: Leviticus 16:1-17:7
Haftarah: Amos 9:7-15
I am Azazel
Bex Stern-Rosenblatt
Parashah
We don t know much about Azazel. We don t know if Azazel refers to a place, a goat, a demon/angel, or, perhaps, just means total removal. Etymologically, we have a few possibilities. We might be speaking of azaz, rough or cut, in reference to the wilderness land, as Rashi suggests. Alternatively, we might be speaking of the ez azal, the goat of going away. Azazel will also appear quite explicitly as a demon or angel figure in the post biblical Book of Enoch.
There s something comforting about the ambiguity around Azazel. Whoever, wherever, or whatever Azazel is will receive a goat laden with our transgressions. If we do not really know what s happened to them, we cannot worry about them coming back to us. We will not be tempted to go looking for them. We cast our transgressions off of us, out of sight and out of mind. It seems like a simple solution, something we can repeat yearly to keep ourselves safe and sane.
But later Jewish tradition cannot leave well enough alone. In the Tanakh, the word Azazel only appears four times and all four of them are in our parashah. The Tanakh leaves us with the beautifully enigmatic meaning of the word. Later Jewish tradition will deconstruct the ambiguity.
The first story we find about Azazel is in the Book of Enoch, a text that expounds on the bizarre biblical story of the nephilim, the fallen ones, described as descendants of the divine, who have children with human women, leading to the existence of heroes. The nephilim appear in Genesis 6, directly before the story of the flood, perhaps even causing the flood through their questionable behavior. Genesis 6 devotes just a few verses to these creatures and never mentions them again.
The Book of Enoch not only tells their story, it also gives them names and provides details of their other misdeeds. We read of a number of these fallen ones, among them, Azazel. Azazel takes the lead, teaching humanity how to make tools of warfare. The text, as translated by R. H. Charles, reads, Thou seest what Azazel hath done, who hath taught all unrighteousness on earth and revealed the eternal secrets which were (preserved) in heaven. Teaching these secrets has revealed to them all kinds of sins so that the whole earth has been filled with blood. God tells another angel, Raphael, to Bind Azazel hand and foot, and cast him into the darkness: and make an opening in the desert, which is in Dudael, and cast him therein. Then, the earth can be healed from Azazel s corruption because, the whole earth has been corrupted through the works that were taught by Azazel: to him ascribe all sin.
In Enoch, Azazel is a divine being who chooses to give away the divine secrets to humanity, thus leading humans to engage in perpetual warfare. Humanity s actions pollute the earth, which must be purified. First, Azazel must be removed from among the humans and sent to the desert, so that humanity has a hope of changing its behavior. This tale functions as a clear origin story for the ritual about Azazel in our parashah. Azazel becomes the source of all wrongdoing and the source of all impurity. Azazel ends up in the wilderness. All sin can be ascribed to Azazel.
The Talmud will echo this view a few centuries later. In Yoma 67b, the school of Rabbi Yishmael taught that the name of Azazel is mentioned in our parashah in order to atone for the deeds of Uzza and Azazel, who are identified as those same divine beings who consorted with human women before the flood.
In both of these retellings, humans need not take full responsibility for our actions. We diminish ourselves, spinning a story of humans as pawns in a game between divine beings, as people eking out a civilization surrounded by chaos, the overwhelming wilderness and the threat of flood. There is a lot of truth in this understanding of the world. There is chaos and evil in the world. It is hard to recognize it in ourselves and even harder to understand where it comes from in ourselves. But Yom Kippur invites us to recognize it and release it. Sending sins to Azazel as an unknowable place/goat/thing/divine being reduces the power of the chaos. It keeps the chaos chaotic, unstable, and unthreatening. The chaos cannot assume a form and act upon us. The chaos only enters our lives when we choose to invite it in. While we inevitably do so, Yom Kippur allows us to banish again.
Not Holier than Thou
Vered Hollander-Goldfarb
Haftarah
You shall be holy! Thus opens one of the densest law collections of the Torah, found in our parashah (Lev. 19). What this means has led to discussions from antiquity until modern times, but our haftarah might tell us what it does not mean.
Are you not like the children of Cush to
Me, O children of Israel? says the Lord.
Did I not bring up Israel from the land of Egypt, The Philistines from
Caphtor and the Syrians from Kir? (Amos 9:7)
Amos, the prophet from the middle of the 8th century BCE who prophesied in the kingdom of Israel, is speaking against the common belief of his day and sometimes in our days as well that the children of Israel are a chosen people meaning that they are entitled to a privileged treatment and immunity from prosecution by God. They believe that they can transgress (Amos speaks often about transgressions against fellow humans) with impunity. To bring home the message of accountability Amos explains to the people that they are not unique in the eyes of their God. God deals also with other nations around the world. We are no more special than the rest. This may appear almost insulting: Who if not our God should give us preferential treatment?
The nations mentioned are both far and near. Cush, identified with Ethiopia, is the end of the world for Amos audience. And our stunning achievement, the one that is mentioned time and again, the Exodus from Egypt, is merely one of several relocations of nations. The Philistines were brought from Caphtor (identified as Crete) and the Arameans from Kir (identified as Armenia) by the will of our God (never mind how or why they thought they landed up in the region.)
Now that Amos has explained that we are not privileged, we can begin to understand that our relationship with God is a demanding one. Our covenant may grant rights, but it mainly bestows responsibilities, causing us to live under constant observation: Behold, the eyes of the Lord God are on the sinful kingdom (v.8) That means being held accountable. The people of Israel shall pay for their behavior.
Let us return to the mitzvah of you shall be holy : It is not a privileged state of holiness, but rather a commandment to be so. Our holy status is not a given but rather as something that requires work. The prophets usually did not come to boost the national ego, but to warn against the complacency that such an unwarranted inflated ego can bring about.
This is no way to end a haftarah.
Following dire warnings, the prophet turns to the day after we have suffered
the consequences of our failure to live up to you shall be holy. Once those
who need to be held accountable are punished, God will provide His people with
lasting stability and prosperity on their land. When we try, we can make
ourselves special after all.
Covering the Blood
Joshua Kulp
The Halakhah in the Parashah
Last Sunday I donated blood. This is something I try to do at least once a year and preferably more. Donating blood can save people s lives and costs nothing to the donor. For those who can donate, it is an important mitzvah. Donating takes about fifteen minutes, and I generally prefer not to look at the blood flowing out of my veins into a bag. So instead, as that blood bag began to be filled, I thought a bit about the concept of blood in the Torah. In some ways, one could say that blood mitzvot lie at the heart of the Torah s mission to the world. When Noah emerges from the ark he is immediately told, You must not, however, eat flesh with its life-blood in it (Genesis 9:4). Two verses later he is warned against murder which is called the spilling of blood.
Leviticus is where blood mitzvot begin to play an even greater role. Sacrifice, one of the main topics of the entire book, entails casting the blood on the altar (see for instance Leviticus 1:6). In last week s parashah we read of the prohibition of relations with a menstruant. Chapter 17, a chapter that lies right in the middle of the book, contains the central statement against eating blood. In verses 3-4 we read that someone who slaughters a sacrificable animal (ox, sheep or goat) outside the Tent of Meeting has shed blood not offering the blood on the altar is akin to bloodshed. Verse 10 provides a stern warning for anyone that consumes blood. In both cases, the person is liable to be cut off from the people of Israel. Verse 11 is worth quoting in its entirety: For the life of the flesh is in the blood, and I have assigned it to you for making expiation for your lives upon the altar; it is the blood, as life, that effects expiation. Ibn Ezra explains that casting the blood on the altar atones for the very sin of taking the life of an animal. God reluctantly allows humanity to eat the flesh of certain creatures, but their blood must not be consumed, for their life force is in the blood. A living creature should make at least a symbolic attempt to not consume other life.
But not all animals can be offered as sacrifices. When it comes to mammals, only the ox (cow), goat and sheep can be sacrificed, and yet other mammals also chew their cud and have split hooves, mainly animals in the deer family. If the blood cannot be spilled on the altar, then what to do with it? This is addressed in verse 13: And if any Israelite or any stranger who resides among them hunts down an animal or a bird that may be eaten, that person shall pour out its blood and cover it with earth. This verse is the origin of the mitzvah that is still observed today, known in Hebrew as kisui hadam and in English as the covering of the blood.
The verse seems to refer only to a person who hunts a wild animal. There are no wild animals that can be offered on the altar, and therefore the only way to dispose of their blood would be to pour it on the ground and cover it with earth. The problem with this verse is that birds can be sacrificed and nevertheless the Torah demands that their blood be covered. While most birds are wild and need to be hunted (or more precisely captured), not all are, and yet the Torah makes no exception. The rabbis rule that this mitzvah is thus applicable to any bird, even domesticated birds such as chickens (see Mishnah Hullin 6:2).
A few details as to how this is done. First of all, this is a mitzvah so it has a blessing, Who has commanded us on covering the blood. If someone is slaughtering multiple birds at one time, all the blood from all the birds can be gathered on the ground and then one blessing recited. Any earth or ashes can be used, or other material in which seeds can grow, like earth. The earth must be put both below and above the blood, which practically means that the bird is slaughtered over some dirt and then the blood is covered. In industrial settings, the blood from all the birds slaughtered in one session flows into a vessel. On the bottom of the vessel there would be dirt. After all the birds have been slaughtered, dirt is thrown on the top. Not all of the blood needs to be covered, only some of the blood that flows out from the bird s neck after it was slaughtered.
While most of the people reading this will never fulfill this mitzvah, it’s important for people to know what is done to our meat before we eat it. While many Jews are vegetarians, not all are. Those who do eat meat should know that taking the life of an animal is not taken lightly by Judaism the spirit of life resides in all living beings, not just in humans. We symbolically accomplish this by offering blood on the altar for animals sacrificed, and spilling the blood on the ground for animals that are not.