כי אתה בא אל הארץ אשר ד' אלקיך נתן לך לא תלמד לעשות כתועבת הגוים ההם: לא ימצא בך מעביר בנו ובתו באש כו' כי תועבת ד' כל עשה אלה וגו' (“For you are coming to the land which Ha-Shem your G-d is giving to you; you will not learn to act according to the abomination of those nations. There will not be found amongst you one who passes his son and his daughter through the fire.... For an abomination of Ha-Shem is anyone who does these things....” XVIII, 9-11).
Last week, we touched upon an insight based on a thought of the Maharal mi-Prag, that âvoda zara, “idolatry," is based upon an over-reliance on human perceptions. Human beings, being unable to grasp completely the perfectly unique unity of Ha-Shem, tend to divide His functions up. The phrase I used was that they turn Divinty into “divinities." In particular, we do not see that din (“judgment”) and rachamim (“mercy”) emanate from the same place. Coupled with a very well-placed fear of the former, then, people who feel left on their own in this regard tend to try to propitiate or deflect what they see as the malevolent forces of din, which rites are the primary forms of âvoda zara (עיי' למשל גור ארי' לדברים ט"ז א').
The Canaanite cult of Molech, to which our passage refers (cf. also Leviticus XX,1-5) is the most extreme expression of this fallacy, so starkly different from the usual idolatrous rites that it had an immensely strong grip on the imaginations of its devoteés, such that it merits its own, separate prohibition.
Which leads us to an interesting difference of opinion between the Rambam and the Ramban, concerning the nature of and reason for sacrifice in the Torah.
B.
Concerning the rationale behind the qorbanoth, the Rambam writes: בעבור שהמצרים והכשדים אשר היו ישראל גרים ותושבים בארצם, מעולם היו עובדים לצאן ולבקר, כי המצרים עובדין מזל טלה והכשדים עובדים לשדים אשר יראו להם בדמות שעירים, ואנשי הודו עד היום לא ישחטו בקר לעולם, בעבור כן צוה לשחוט אלו השלשה מינין לשם הנכבד כדי שידע כי הדבר שהיו חושבים כי הם בתכלית העבודה הוא אשר יקריבו לבורא ובו יתכפרו העונות כי כן יתרפאו האמונות הרעות שהם מדויי הנפש כי כל מדוי וכל חולי לא יתרפאו כי אם בהפכן (“Since the Egyptians and the Chaldaeans in whose lands Israel had been sojourners and residents worshipped ovicaprids and cattle, for the Egyptians worshipped the constellation Aries [the Ram] and the Chaldaeans worshipped demons who would appear to them in the form of goats, and the people of India to this day do not slaughter cattle at all; for this reason, [G-d] commanded that these three species be slaughtered for [His] revered Name, in order that one should know that the thing which they were thinking was the object of worship was what they should sacrifice to the Creator, and through it sins would be atoned and in this way bad beliefs which are an illness of the soul would be cured, for illnesses and diseases are only cured by their being reversed;" מורה נבוכים ח"ג פמ"ו).
In other words, the Rambam sees the entire system of sacrifice instituted by the Torah as a sort of concession to human frailty: Because people are inclined to debase themselves by prostrating themselves to animals, so G-d decreed that these very animals be sacrificed to Him, to serve as a pointed reminder that He had created them, and that therefore He was to be venerated, not they.
The Ramban protests most strenuously that the Rambam’s words are דברי הבאי, ירפאו שבר גדול וקושיא רבה על נקלה יעשה שולחן ד' מגואל, שאיננו רק להוציא מלבן של רשעים וטפשי עולם, והכתוב אמר שהוא "לחם אשה לריח ניחוח"?! (“vain words: can a huge gulf and great difficulty be healed so easily? Should Ha-Shem’s table be made contaminated, since it exists only to contradict the evil and stupid of the world, when Scripture says that it is [G-d’s] ‘bread, a burnt offering for a savoury aroma’?!”).
The Ramban goes on at some length to recount the numerous Biblical examples of sacrificial devotion by, e.g. Noach, or Qayin and Hevel, which predated the very concept of âvoda zara, not to speak of the Egyptian nation, and decides that the purpose of a qorban is inherent in the root meaning of the word, to bring about qirva (“closeness”) bretween man and G-d. He then recounts the various steps necessary in offering a qorban, and notes that it is important שיחשוב אדם בעשותו כל אלה כי חטא לאלקיו בגופו ובנפשו וראוי לו שישפך דמו וישרף גופו לולא חסד הבורא שלקח ממנו תמורה (“that a person think whilst he is doing all these things that he has sinned against his G-d with his body and his soul, and it would be proper for his blood to be spilt and his body to be burnt, were it not for the kindness [chesed] of the Creator, Who takes a substitute for him....”; ע"ע שכתב שם בארןבות בזה).
From the Ramban’s word we thus gain an insight into the integration and interplay of din and rachamim in the way the Creator runs His world. Mi-tzad ha-din, the situation of an adam mi-Yisra’él is very simple and clear: G-d has graciously given him the Torah; he therefore should know what his duties and responsibilities are; if he fails to carry any of them out, the boom should be lowered on him. However, G-d exercises rachamim, accepting his sincere contrition and the effort and expense of bringing a qorban in lieu of what he really deserves to pay.
C.
There is a fascinating suggestion which I have heard in the name of Rabbi Yosef Dov ha-Levi Soloveitchik זצ"ל which affords us a glimpse of this Divine logic working itself out.
Rabbi Soloveitchik calls attention to the Biblical account of the âqeidath Yitzchaq, when Avraham was commanded to sacrifice his only son and heir (Genesis XXII), and takes note of the fact that, throughout the account, the Divine name Eloqim appears exclusively. The name Eloqim is indicative of the middath ha-din, our perception of the quality of Divine judgment in this world. He sees in this a clear indication that the sacrifice of Yitzchaq was perfectly justified, in complinace with Divine judgment.
Until we reach the climax of the account: וישלח אברחם את ידו ויקח את המאכלת לשחט את בנו: ויקרא אליו מלאך ד' מן השמים וכו' ויאמר אל תשלח ידך אל הנער ואל תעשה לו מאומה: כי עתה ידעתי כי ירא אלקים אתה וגו' (“And Avraham reached out his hand and took the knife to slaughter his son. And an angel of Ha-Shem called out thim from the heavens... Do not take your hand to the youth, and do nothing to him. For now I know that you are G-d [Eloqim] fearing....;" ibid., 10-12).
וישא אברהם עיניו וירא והנה איל וגו' (“And Avraham raised his eyes and saw, and behold, there was a ram....”; v. 13). Plainly the substitution of the ram for Yitzchaq was an act of Divine rachamim, heralded by the sudden appearance of the name Ha-Shem. Avraham himself recognised this implicitly: ויקרא אברהם את שם המקום ההוא ד' יראה וגו' (“And Avraham callefd the name of that place 'Ha-Shem is perceived....;'" v. 14).
Now return to our passage and take careful note of the wording: Moshe warns that Israel were heading toward the holy land אשר נתן לך ד' אלקיך, “which Ha-Shem Eloqecha is giving you." The Ramban makes clear that one’s son or daughter might very well deserve a fiery fate, as, indeed, the Canaanites seem to have been convinced; the strict prohibition of anything resembling this ritual to Israel, it would seem, comes about about because of the inseparable oneness of rachamim -- Ha-Shem -- and din -- "Eloqecha." Because of that, the verse seems to tell us, תועבת ד' כל עשה אלה, “an abomination of Ha-Shem is anyone who does these things," for to do them is to deny the fundamental, ineffable unity of Ha-Shem Eloqeinu.
D.
The import of the fact of the fundamental, Divine unity and inseparability of din and rachamim for each and every one of us as we enter into this highly propitious season of Elul, in preparation to meet the awesome yom ha-din a scant five weeks hence, is clear. Our relief, though, is tempered by more than a little apprehension: After all, due to our many sins, we do not today have a Béyth ha-Miqdash, and so we have no chance to take advantage of G-d’s magnanimity. The prospect of spilling blood and burning bodies, it seems, looms before us....
The mishna assures us: כל העושה מצוה אחת קונה לו פרקליט אחד (“Anyone who does a single mitzva acquires for himself a single advocate;" אבות פ"ד מי"א), and Rabbi Ovadya of Bartenura explains an “advocate” to be a מלאך מליץ טוב, an “angel recommending good."
If we turn to the Talmud, we find: חשב אדם לעשות מצוה ונאנס ולא עשאה מעלה עליו הכתוב כאלו עשאה ([“If] a person thinks of doing a mitzva and is prevented by circumstances and does not do it, Scripture considers it for him as though he has done it;" ברכות ו.).
In the story of the âqeida, it seems to me, we have a clear, Biblical demonstration of the application of this principle. Consider what the mal’ach Ha-Shem said to Avraham: עתה ידעתי כי ירא רלקים אתה לא חשכת את בנך “Now I know that you are G-d fearing; you did not spare your son....”). And how was it that G-d knew this?
Continues the mal’ach: ממני (“from me”).
Avraham had not, after all, actually slaughtered Yitzchaq; but at the very moment that his hand grasped the knife, his every intention was to carry out the inscrutable Divine command, and at that instant “Scripture considered it as though he had done it," and this very מלאך מליץ טוב, this advocate, came into being. It was the sudden appearance of the mal’ach as Avraham, in effect, performed the mitzva, which consitituted the evidence of his G-d fearing character, as well as of Divine rachamim overriding din: It was, after all, a mal’ach Ha-Shem, not a mal’ach Eloqim.
Thus, we have Biblical assurance, as well as that of the Oral Torah, that if our contrition and confession are sincere enough, our yearning to perform the requisite sacrifices intense enough, it will be considered “as though we had done it," and entered in our favour in the Divine ledger on the yom ha-din.
Surely in testimony whereof, Chazal established the âqeida as the Torah reading on Yom Kippur.
The Creator’s chesed stands available to us; it is up to us to avail ourselves of it.
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