Are We Finished?
Parashat Emor, Leviticus 21:1-24:23
Chaim Dauermann, Simchat Yisrael, West Haven, CT
Leviticus is not typically thought of as a very exciting book. Perhaps this is rightfully so, considering that nearly the entire text comprises descriptions of sacrifices, and rules and regulations for priests and lay people. But with a slight adjustment of perspective, we can see Leviticus as something different, a narrative as compelling, vivid, and disquieting as any horror story.
Aaron’s sons Nadab and Abihu are burned alive through the power of God, a consequence for perhaps as little as coming to the tent of meeting while drunk (chapter 10). Elsewhere, a young man blasphemes the name of God, and is stoned to death for it by his community at God’s command (chapter 24). We read of child sacrifice, necromancy, mediumship, and all manner of sexual perversion, including incest and bestiality. In most cases, the prescribed punishment for these transgressions is death, and in other cases, exile from the community. God’s incomparable holiness is portrayed in stark contrast to humanity’s corrupt, fallen nature. The solution that Leviticus proposes for enabling us, in our sinful condition, to approach God is purity, and there is perhaps nowhere in this book where this solution is presented more succinctly and clearly than in this week’s parasha, Emor.
In chapter 22, the Lord gives Moses instructions for him to relate to Aaron and his sons: “Say to them, ‘If any one of your offspring throughout your generations approaches the holy things that the people dedicate to the Lord, while he has an uncleanness, that person shall be cut off from my presence: I am the Lord’” (verse 3). And then, “They shall therefore keep my charge, lest they bear sin for it and die thereby when they profane it: I am the Lord who sanctifies them” (verse 9). Later, he delivers instructions about offerings, as well:
Speak to Aaron and his sons and all the people of Israel and say to them, When any one of the house of Israel or of the sojourners in Israel presents a burnt offering as his offering, for any of their vows or freewill offerings that they offer to the Lord, if it is to be accepted for you it shall be a male without blemish, of the bulls or the sheep or the goats. You shall not offer anything that has a blemish, for it will not be acceptable for you. (Lev 22:18–20)
Leviticus can make for some challenging reading, not because it might seem rather dry to some, but because of what it reveals about us and about the perfection of God. How can we ever measure up? How can we meet God’s standards? How are we to respond to a scriptural reality in which the penalty for transgressions is often a painful and gruesome death, and the result of impurity is exile?
When we mess up, are we done? Are we finished? Is that what it means to follow God?
Rav Sha’ul draws on imagery from Leviticus in his letter to the Romans: “I appeal to you therefore, brothers, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship” (Rom 12:1). Sha’ul would seem to be talking about purity here, but is it the same sort of purity that we read about in our parasha this week?
I was a teenager in the 1990s. If you were as well, or if you had children who were, then the term “purity culture” might seem familiar. It’s a term commonly used to describe a movement within conservative Christian circles at the time to promote an especially rigorous approach to sexual abstinence before marriage, particularly among young people. Encouraging adherence to a biblical standard for sexuality is unambiguously a good thing, but there are some who feel that the purity movement of the 90s may have taken things too far. Some people, particularly women, say that the zealous spirit of that time caused them lasting psychological and spiritual challenges that they struggle with to this day, as their understanding of their value became tied to whatever level of purity they could sustain. “Messing up” by doing or thinking the wrong thing brought with it feelings of inadequacy and worthlessness, a conviction that they, having been so tainted, would be worth less to God, and less to their future spouse.
I cannot help but think about Romans 12:1 when I think of the zeal and fallout from that time, not only because the verse feels so applicable, but also because it was one of the foundational passages cited for that approach to purity and chastity. To present ourselves as a “living sacrifice” that is “holy and acceptable to God” certainly sounds like an admonishment to be pure, but is this what Sha’ul meant?
Earlier on in his letter to the Romans, Sha’ul uses a first-person perspective in describing humanity’s struggle with sin:
So I find the principle—that evil is present in me, the one who wants to do good. For I delight in the Torah of God with respect to the inner man, but I see a different law in my body parts, battling against the law of my mind and bringing me into bondage under the law of sin which is in my body parts. Miserable man that I am! Who will rescue me from this body of death? (Rom 7:21–24 TLV)
Here, Sha’ul seems to be giving voice to the very sort of anguish we all can face when comparing ourselves to the standard of perfection that God represents. And Sha’ul is well-qualified to opine on these matters, for when he says he delights in the Torah, he speaks as a man who knows the Torah well. I think, here, of his words from Acts 22:3, “I am a Jew . . . educated at the feet of Gamaliel according to the strict manner of the law of our fathers.” As to what that education entailed, we can only surmise. But when it comes to purity, I do find it interesting to note what the sages wrote of Gamaliel: “When Rabban Gamaliel the Elder died, the glory of the Torah ceased, and purity and abstinence perished” (Mishnah Sotah 9:15, emphasis added).
When Sha’ul cries out in his plea, “Who will rescue me from this body of death?” it is, of course, rhetorical, for Messiah had already come, his sacrifice on the execution stake complete. Knowing this well, Sha’ul follows his lament about his “body of death” with these words: “Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Messiah Yeshua. For the law of the Spirit of life in Messiah Yeshua has set you free from the law of sin and death” (Rom 8:1–2 TLV).
Sha’ul understood what the Torah demanded in terms of purity, but he was also a man who deeply comprehended the ways in which Yeshua’s death and resurrection can impact our existence, if we let them, by allowing us to approach God in ways that we otherwise could not. So what does Sha’ul mean in Romans 12:1, when he calls for us to be a “living sacrifice?” Romans 12:2 gives us a glimpse: “Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that by testing you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect.”
When we sin, we are not cast aside. Just as Yeshua lifts a burden of condemnation from us, he also issues a call to action. With our minds “transformed” and “renewed,” our bodies are a vessel for the purposes of God. He has a will for us. We aren’t finished, and he isn’t finished with us.