GOOD MORNING! As the horrific stories and images of human suffering continue to pour in from Ukraine via news and media outlets, we must not let ourselves become inured by the sheer volume of what we see. It must be a truly eye opening experience for this generation who hasn’t yet experienced or observed a war.

On the other hand, this war is something new and unique even for those of us who have lived through one before; this war is taking place in a new world – one that is dominated by social media. Aside from the now “normal” 24-hour news cycle, any person with a phone or smart device can record and broadcast every element of human suffering instantly to just about every part of the civilized world. This accessibility to the evils of mankind forces us to contemplate the human capacity for cruelty and avarice, and reflect upon the moral depravity man is capable of when surrendering to its baser instincts.

This week's Torah reading includes one such element of ritualistic cruelty from the ancient world. The portion discusses the manner in which the idol known as Moloch was worshipped. Moloch (also spelled Molech) was a Canaanite deity that we find in several biblical sources as being associated with the practice of child sacrifice.

According to the great biblical commentator Rashi (Leviticus 18:21), service of this deity consisted of handing over your child to the Moloch priests who would then burn them by passing them through fire. Rashi elaborates with more detail as to the exact worship of Moloch in his comments found in the book of Jeremiah (7:31). The famous Spanish biblical commentator, Nachmanides, notes this ritual sometimes resulted in the child’s death.

In this week’s Torah reading we find that God expressly forbade the Jews from doing what was done in Canaan: “You shall not give any of your children to devote them by fire to Moloch, and so profane the name of your God” (Leviticus 18:21).

Unfortunately, some of the more wicked kings, such as Ahaz (2 Kings 16:3) and Manasseh (2 Kings 21:6), having been influenced by the Assyrians, are reported to have worshipped Moloch at the hilled site of Topheth, outside the walls of Jerusalem. This site continued to flourish under Manasseh’s son King Amon but was destroyed during the reign of Josiah, a righteous king who was a reformer. “And he destroyed Topheth, which is in the valley of the sons of Hinnom, that no one might burn his son or his daughter as an offering to Moloch” (2 Kings 23:10).

At the end of this week’s Torah reading we find: “Speak to the people of Israel, and say to them, I am the Lord your God. Like the practices of the land of Egypt where you dwelt, you shall not do; and like the practices of the land of Canaan, where I bring you, you shall not do [...]” (18:2-3).

These verses are the introduction to the Torah’s list of forbidden sexual relationships. Oddly enough, this very comprehensive list is read at the afternoon service on the holiest day of the year: Yom Kippur – the Day of Atonement. Even stranger, intermingled in these verses is the prohibition of the Moloch ritual. While it is certainly a heinous and abominable practice, why is this law inserted in the middle of the list of forbidden relationships and why is this the passage read on Yom Kippur?

Let’s begin by examining the root cause for having forbidden relationships in the first place. Nachmanides posits that it would only be natural for people to choose their closest relatives as mates. For example, a lot of the complications of trying to merge two disparate families, or disparate cultures, or dealing with inheritance issues would dissipate if a man were to marry his sister.

(I am reminded of the following joke. Dan was a single guy living at home with his father and working in the very successful family business. Knowing that he was going to inherit a fortune when his sickly father died, he decided that his future was secure and that it was time to look for a wife and begin to build his own family.

One evening, while traveling on business for the company, he spotted the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Her natural beauty took his breath away. He said to himself, “This is the woman I am going to marry!”

He approached her and introduced himself as the general manager of a successful family business. “I may look like just an ordinary man,” he said to her, “but in just a few years, my father will die and I’ll inherit 20 million dollars.” Impressed, the woman obtained his business card and they parted ways.

A week later, Dan had a stepmother.)

Returning to Nachmanides point, from a family business and asset management perspective it would seem quite logical to marry our relatives. So why did the Almighty decree that we are forbidden to do so?

In Genesis (2:18) God said, “It is not good for man to be alone, I will make a compatible helper for him.” Rashi explains that if man were totally self-sufficient he would consider himself God-like; just as God is one above, man is one below. In other words, man would consider himself more or less equal to God on the plane below (i.e. this world). This would cause man to become totally egocentric and self-centered.

Therefore, the Almighty created a partner for man, someone he would have to merge with to balance him out and become a helpmate and an opposing opinion. This “merger” requires a true partner, one who is a totally separate entity and would not be swallowed up in the merger.

However, we are overly familiar with our closest relatives. For instance, when in our sister’s home we feel perfectly comfortable opening the fridge and helping ourselves to whatever we want. That is, the closeness of the relationship allows us to take what we want because her home is just an extension of ours. The same is true, of course, with parents, children, aunts and uncles, etc.

The purpose of marrying someone other than a relative is to leave this comfort zone and become one with an entity with whom you must make an effort to restrain yourself and learn to negotiate within one another’s space. Accommodating another person forces you to abandon self-centered behavior, evolve, and merge into a new identity.

This is seemingly God’s intent; the deconstruction of the personal ego of man through a partner (of course, some spouses have overzealously taken on this mandate as a life’s mission). This is also a reason for Judaism’s family purity laws (where a husband and wife are not intimate for two weeks out of every month); it reminds us that we cannot relate to our spouse merely as an object of our desire, we must relate to them as an equal partner in our merged identity.

Now we understand why these verses are read on Yom Kippur: To remind us that even in our most powerful drives and personal desires we must recognize our place in the universe as subjects of the Almighty.

Finally, this also explains why the prohibition against Moloch is included right in the middle of these laws. A person may begin to feel that his closest relatives (i.e. his children) are merely an extension of himself. Worse yet, a person may view his children as his personal chattel, with whom he can do as he pleases – even going so far as to offer them in service to his god. The Torah therefore reminds us that our children are not “owned” by us; they are separate beings whom for we are responsible – not an extension of our self-centered world.

Sadly, many parents demand that their children live a certain way, choose a certain profession, and marry a certain partner. This is a terribly flawed way of relating to one’s children. Our role as parents is to be sure that our children grow into responsible and independent adults who live authentic lives. In this way they will have a most fulfilling and rewarding life – and, at the end of the day, could a parent really ask for more?

Acharei Mot includes the Yom Kippur service where the Cohen Gadol (the High Priest) casts lots to designate two goats – one to be sacrificed, the other to be driven to a place called Azazel after the Cohen Gadol confesses the sins of the people upon its head. Today it is a very popular epithet in Israel to instruct another person in the heat of an argument to “go to Azazel.” (I don't believe the intent, however, is to look for the goat.)