Everybody Needs a Hero
Yom Kippur 5785
Rabbi Paul L. Saal, Congregation Shuvah Yisrael, West Hartford, CT
Everybody needs a hero although often we don’t get the one we expect.
Today’s Torah portion, Leviticus 16:1–34, describes the heroic actions of Aaron, the Kohen Gadol (High Priest). Like most true heroes, he had to rise to an occasion greater than anything on his resume. As he prepared to enter the Holiest Place on Yom Kippur, to offer the sacrificial blood for the atonement of the Nation of Israel, he surely remembered how the bodies of his sons, Nadab and Abihu, were dragged from that same location. They had failed to perform their priestly duties with the proper reverence and prescribed protocols. It would not be surprising if Aaron felt the weight of his own failings, both as a priest and a parent, threatening to paralyze him. Yet, he knew that Israel needed a hero—and for this moment, he was God’s choice.
Before entering the Holiest Place as an advocate for the nation, Aaron first offered a sacrifice for the sins of himself and his household, acknowledging that humanity does not produce perfect people. But the contrite can rise above their shortcomings and accomplish incredible things in service to the Holy One. This is the same Aaron who, at the request of the angry mob, crafted the Golden Calf—making him culpable for one of the greatest indiscretions in Israel’s history. How ironic, then, that God would allow Aaron to stand in the gap once a year as the mediator of atonement.
As innocent blood was poured out for the sins of the priests and the people of Israel, the truly humane were called to recognize the violence of their own nature and the infirmities of their souls. This is why the psalmist can declare, “It is not sacrifices that you desire but a broken and contrite heart” (Psa 51:16–17). Aaron, in essence, was calling Israel to teshuvah (repentance). As Kohen Gadol, Aaron placed his hands upon the sacrificial animal, symbolically exhorting the people to place the hidden and depraved parts of their souls upon the altar to be extricated. This was a battle for the heart and life of Israel as the people of God. Everybody needs a hero, and Aaron was a true mediator of God’s justice and mercy.
The principle of mediation is firmly entrenched in the Torah. Moses mediated the Sinai covenant, receiving words from God to deliver to Israel and praying to God on Israel’s behalf. Aaron and his descendants wore precious jewels engraved with the names of the twelve tribes, symbolizing their role as representatives of the entire community before the Divine Presence. When they blessed the people after offering sacrifice, they acted as agents of God, mediating divine blessing.
Why, then, in response to Messianic and Christian claims about the role of the Messiah as mediator, do many Jewish people say, “We Jews believe that we can come directly to God; we have no need for a mediator”? This statement contrasts the two belief systems as a controversy over the need for mediation. Is this representation accurate? Historically, it is partially true, but only if we overlook the greater weight of the Torah and accept a single view of Judaism.
After the destruction of the Temple in 70 CE, the priestly system of mediation ceased. Judaism, once a diverse landscape that included Pharisees, Sadducees, Essenes, the Qumran community, and the followers of Yeshua, had to determine how to survive without the priestly system essential to much of Torah. The early Messianic believers understood Yeshua as the embodiment of the Kohen Gadol and the ultimate mediator. Rabbinic Judaism, which gained prominence in the post-Temple era, saw Israel collectively as the mediator, de-emphasizing the role of individual mediators, even avoiding the glorification of Moses. This is reflected in the absence of Moses in the Passover Haggadah and his limited mention in the Siddur.
While the role of individual mediators is downplayed in Rabbinic Judaism (with the notable exception of Hasidism), and the priestly caste no longer stands as the collective representative of God to Israel, the individual Jew does not approach God directly. We acknowledge this in our traditions, maintaining the legacy of the Kohanim. They are honored with the first Aliyah (Torah blessing), the performance of the Pidyon Haben (redemption of the firstborn), and the traditional blessing at the end of Yom Kippur.
Will Herberg, a prominent Jewish thinker, recognized the necessity of mediation in Judaism:
In both Judaism and Christianity . . . there is no such thing as a direct and unmediated relation to God; this relation must in some way be mediated through one’s covenant status. In Judaism, however, it is by virtue of his being a member of the People Israel that the believer approaches God and has standing before him; in Christianity, it is by virtue of his being a member of Christ. . . . To be a Jew means to meet God and receive his grace in and through Israel; to be a Christian means to meet God and receive his grace in and through Christ. . . . Authentic Judaism is therefore Israel-centered . . . while authentic Christianity is Christ-centered. In neither need this centrality lead to a diversion from God, because in both it is through mediation that God is approached.
This reality is expressed in the first blessing of the Amidah, the foundational prayer of Jewish tradition. The blessing begins by addressing God as “our God and the God of our Fathers, the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob,” concluding with “the Shield of Abraham.” We approach God, not individually, but as part of Israel, heirs to the promises made to the Patriarchs. This is mediation in its strongest sense.
The role of Messiah Yeshua in Christian spirituality highlights this aspect of Jewish spirituality. Just as Israel stands before God through Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, the disciple of Yeshua stands before God through Yeshua. Messianic Jews have a unique stance, coming to God through both Israel and Messiah. As Will Herberg insightfully put it, Yeshua is a “one-man Israel.” In Messianic Jewish thought, Yeshua embodies the entire people, much like Jacob himself. As Israel is called God’s son, Yeshua is the quintessential Son of God, suffering for the redemption of Israel as our hero and mediator.
On October 7, one year ago, the entire world was shocked by the horrific massacre by Hamas at an outdoor party and among the kibbutzim by Israel’s southern border. There is no need to recount here the unthinkable acts of barbarism; it is enough to understand that this was an event that made the post-Holocaust statement “Never Again” fade into the past. But often lost amidst recollection of murderous acts, the deep concern for hostages taken, the proliferation of war, the bombing of innocents, demonstrations on campuses, and the endless debates over the propriety of retribution versus the need for defense, is the selfless sacrifice of countless individuals. First responders, hospital workers, IDF soldiers, neighbors, families and even transport drivers have risen to the occasion.
On October 7, Youssef Ziadna, a 47-year-old Bedouin Israeli minibus driver, was called to pick up one of his regular customers and raced headlong into Hamas’ brutal attack on Israel. He ended up rescuing 30 people, all Jewish Israelis, from the massacre at the outdoor party near Israel’s southern border, dodging bullets and veering off-road to bring them to safety. This resident of Rahat has joined an emerging pantheon of heroes who were able to carry out daring feats of rescue during a chaotic, dangerous and bloody attack in which thousands of Israelis were killed, and these are real, if often nameless heroes. Everybody needs heroes, and heroism can be contagious.
In these trying times, Yeshua’s sacrifice encourages us to courageously go forward to meet the challenges of life without a layer of self-protection. We are can selflessly meet the needs of others, reaching out to the neediest among us, because that is what he would do.
The world still needs real heroes, and quietly, some rise to the occasion. We are inspired by their sacrificial acts, but how much more should we be inspired by the intercession of the Messiah, the greatest revelation of God to humanity? If Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Moses, Aaron, David, and Solomon—heroes who were fragile and faulted—could mediate God’s justice and mercy, how much more can Yeshua, a High Priest who was tempted in all things yet without sin. Yeshua is our kappora (covering). He doesn’t hide us; he inspires us. He doesn’t go instead of us, but ahead of us, so that we may follow him into the throne room of grace and receive mercy in our time of need. After all, everybody needs a hero.