GOOD MORNING! This week we begin reading the third book of the Five Books of Moses – Vayikra or, as it is known in English, “Leviticus.” The name Leviticus comes from the original Latin translation of the Torah known as the Vulgate (“common version”), and Leviticus means “regarding the Levites.” Unsurprisingly, this is not a particularly good characterization of what is contained in the book of Vayikra.

The sages refer to Vayikra as Torat Cohanim – the laws relating to the priestly caste of the Jewish people known as the Cohanim (Cohen is the singular version). The reason for this is that the vast majority of laws relating to the Cohanim and their sacred duties in the Tabernacle (and later in the Holy Temple) are found in the book of Vayikra. Thus, we find the vast majority of laws relating to ritual purity and impurity (tahara and tuma) in this book as well.

The subjects of ritual purity and impurity and their multitude of related laws are quite complicated and even somewhat mysterious. Still, from the laws themselves we can make certain inferences that help us understand what these concepts are all about and how they hint at deeper meanings. In this week’s column we will touch upon some of these concepts.

In general, tahara or “ritual purity” is associated with life, while tuma or “ritual impurity” is associated with death. The correlation is that the more potential for life something has the greater the source of tuma that it generates when that loss of potential is realized. Thus, the more highly developed a life form is, the greater the loss of potential – consequently its death generates a greater level of tuma.

Therefore, as mankind is the highest level of developed life – with the greatest potential for achievement – the tuma or “ritual impurity” generated by a human’s death is the most severe. A less severe degree of tuma is that of tumat neveila (the ritual impurity of an animal that died as a result of any process other than valid ritual slaughter) or tumat sheretz (referring to certain types of vermin). Furthermore, plant life, being far less developed, generates no tuma at its end. (There are several different ways that this ritual impurity is transmitted through interaction, both to people and to objects, however, these laws are far beyond the scope of this column.)

With this very brief introduction, let’s explore a rather astonishing teaching of our sages relating to this week’s Torah reading.

And He called to Moses, and God spoke to him [...] (1:1).

The opening line of Vayikra begins with the Almighty calling Moses to come to the newly constructed Mishkan – the Tabernacle.

There is a rather enigmatic midrash (teaching from the sages) on this verse: The midrash begins to mention some of the items on Moses’ impressive resume of accomplishments: He was the paradigm of wisdom and prophecy, he took the Jewish people out of Egypt and also performed many miracles in Egypt and at the Red Sea, he ascended to heaven and brought down the Torah, and he constructed the Mishkan.

Even with all of these incredible achievements, he refrained from entering the Mishkan until God called to him and invited him. Based on this, the midrash makes the following and rather extraordinary conclusion; “From here we see that any Torah scholar that doesn’t have da’at (knowledge) is worse than a neveila (a dead animal carcass)” (Vayikra Rabbah 1:15).

There are several questions that seem to just leap out at us from this midrash. While it’s true that the Torah proclaims that Moses was the most modest and unassuming person that ever was (which probably explains his reticence to enter the Mishkan until invited), but what does his modesty have to do with a Torah scholar who doesn’t have da’at?

Moreover, the listing of Moses’ vast accomplishments may actually serve to disprove the midrash’s point. After all, perhaps his impressive resume required him to have a level of da’at that a “normal” Torah scholar would not routinely require. Why would we compare an ordinary Torah scholar to Moses? It seems rather unfair.

Perhaps most perplexing is the illustration that the midrash chooses – why use the example of a dead animal carcass? The midrash doesn’t say that a Torah scholar without da’at is as useless as an animal carcass, it says that a dead carcass is better than him. How are we to understand this? In what way is an animal carcass better than a Torah scholar without da’at?

In order to understand this exceedingly difficult midrash, we must first properly define the term da’at.

We find the word da’at first used in the Torah by the Eitz HaDa’at (Tree of Knowledge) about which the Almighty tells Adam that its fruits are forbidden to him (Genesis 2:17). Fascinatingly, the Torah says, regarding the creation of man and woman, that although they were both naked they were not ashamed (ibid. 2:25). Yet, once Adam and Eve sinned by eating from the Tree of Knowledge, the Torah says, “Their eyes were opened and they ‘knew’ they were naked [...]” (ibid. 3:7).

We see from here that da’at refers to an understanding of oneself, a self-knowledge as it were. True da’at is a real understanding of yourself and who you are. Once a person achieves this self-knowledge he can then relate to others in an objective manner. That is, a person no longer defines himself by how others see him; instead he has a healthy self-knowledge and self-definition. He knows who he really is.

This objectivity allows him to connect with others in a very pure form, not clouded by the superficiality of image consciousness and the related complications of emotional insecurity stemming from it. In other words, his interactions with the world around him aren’t about him. This is actually what the snake said to Eve, “Your eyes will open and you will become God-like [...]” (ibid. 3:5). The snake was explaining that self-knowledge gives one an understanding of one’s potential. Man has the potential to create, and in this way man is God-like.

The midrash is telling us that Moses, even with his most incredible resume of accomplishments, never lost sight of who he was. His modesty was a reflection of his internal self-knowledge that his accomplishments were a fulfillment of his enormous potential; he did not believe that it conferred upon him any special privileges. This is why he was chosen as the transmitter of the Torah – he was able to act as a crystal clear lens for what the Almighty wished to convey. Thereby, the Jewish people were able to receive the Torah in its purest form – because Moses never made it about himself.

We often see those with great potential fall into a warped sense of self, particularly after achieving great accomplishments. These people begin to see themselves as better than others and become full of their self-importance. They become self-absorbed, obsessed with image, and lose their grip on the reality of who they really are. We only need to look at our political landscape to see this truth.

Likewise, this phenomenon can be readily seen in titans of industry, sports superstars, and entertainers. They completely buy into the adulation of others and forget who they really are. A classic example of their hubris is their incessant opining on matters of which they have no knowledge whatsoever. It’s as if their fame has somehow made them experts in all matters from politics to environmental science and their opinions meaningful, which they, of course, are not.

Sadly, even accomplished Torah scholars are susceptible to this illness. They can become delusional that their achievements somehow make them better than others. In fact, many religious people see themselves as having a higher moral standing than others, and this sometimes causes them to create their own morality of what is right and wrong. Without da’at – a true self-knowledge – their view of themselves vis-à-vis others can become incredibly warped. Because of this they lose the potential of who they could truly be.

This is what the midrash means by saying that an animal carcass is better than them. The neveila, like a Torah scholar who doesn’t have a healthy understanding of who he really is, also represents a loss of potential, and both of them can be harmful to others and spread impurity. The difference is that a dead animal is static – it isn’t moving and it can easily be avoided. In fact, after a day or two the dead animal begins to stink, warning others to stay away. A Torah scholar without da’at continues to be harmful to others because he has all the trappings of an upstanding scholar and people may not know to stay away.

The midrash is teaching us that, no matter who we are or what we have accomplished in our lives we must remain humble like Moses. We must maintain a healthy self-knowledge of who we are and not take liberties with others based on our perceived persona. As the midrash points out, even Moses, with his unparalleled achievements, did not enter the Mishkan until God called for him.

Vayikra, Leviticus 1:1 – 5:26

The book of Vayikra (Leviticus) primarily deals with what are commonly called “sacrifices” or “offerings.” According to Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch: a “sacrifice” implies giving up something that is of value to oneself for the benefit of another. An “offering” implies a gift, which satisfies the receiver. The Almighty does not need our gifts. He has no needs or desires. The Hebrew word is korban, which is best translated as a means of bringing oneself into a closer relationship with the Almighty. The offering of korbanot was only for our benefit to come close to the Almighty.

Ramban, one of the essential commentaries on Torah, explains that through the vicarious experience of what happened to the animal korbanot, the transgressor realized the seriousness of his transgression. This aided him in the process of teshuva – correcting his erring ways.

This week’s portion includes the details of various types of korbanot: burnt offering, flour offering (proof that one does not need to offer “blood” to gain atonement), the first grain offering, peace offering, unintentional sin offering (private and communal), guilt (for an intentional sin) offerings – varied upon one’s ability to pay, and an offering for personal use of something designated or belonging to the Tabernacle or the Temple.