A Dynamic Atonement

This week's Torah portion is Acharei Mot, which means, after the death,” referring to the death of Aaron's two sons. It contains all the laws for Yom Kippur: how it was celebrated so long ago with ceremonies and sacrifices, and the portion also lists prohibited marriages, which are mostly those within the family. Yom Kippur is our holiday of atonement, but also cleansing and expiation. In the ancient past, blood atoned for our sins, as the Torah says, “For the soul of the flesh is in the blood and I have assigned it for you upon the altar to provide atonement for your souls, for it is the blood that atones for the soul.” (Levit. 17:11). How was it that blood atoned for sins?

Perhaps in the ancient world, which was more destructive and warlike, people experienced death so much more frequently than we do: either human death through battle or the natural death of family members, or they experienced the killing of animals for food or during worship through sacrifice. Maybe there was a kind of balance of life, seen as the image of the scales of justice: something died and there must be a payment for the life; or perhaps a restitution for the death, to restore balance to the world. Perhaps there was an appreciation that life inevitably creates death. Moses said, “Choose life,” which leads us believe that we can cause more life or more death through our words and actions.

Our atonement is not very much like the kind described in Acharei Mot. Comparing us to the people who lived at this more brutal time, I'm sure they would have thought of us as wimps. Yet there are two similarities between their atonement and ours. The high Priest had to confess and atone three times during the Yom Kippur service. So admitting to ourselves what is less worthy is always part of our expiation. Also, the giving of the sacrifice is similar to the giving of charity for us, or the giving of ourselves to others which is an alternative pathway to atonement. Our atonement may be less filled with awe, but perhaps it is more dynamic; more concerned with ways to extend our goodness into the world. We are asked to feel contrition for what we do, but also to feel hope that we can do just a little better and be blessed through our small personal victories, when goodness and kindness, patience and love win over our less than holy selves.

The Haftarah for this Shabbat, Shabbat HaGadol, which is the great Shabbat, just before Passover, says, “Turn back to Me and I will turn back to you.” (Malachi). At this time of renewal during Pesach, and of the spring when new hope blossoms, let us turn in ourselves to that which is most giving, most patient, and most loving, so that our atonement can be not a preoccupation with paying for the past but the expressing of our goodness in the present and into the future. As King David wrote in Psalm 34: “Turn from the bad, and do good; seek peace, and pursue it.” (Ps. 34:15). That is, the moment is now, and we can make it wonderful.

The Ultimate Mantra

This week’s Torah portion is Tzav, which means, command. God asked Moses to instruct the Priests about how to perform sacrifices. The fire on the altar was never to go out. In the mornings, the Kohen Gadol, the High Priest, cleared the ashes. In this portion there are rules for the elevation, meal, sin, guilt, and feast-peace offerings. The rules tell what should be burned and who should eat the meat and flour offerings. Fat and blood were not to be eaten. Then, at the end of this portion, the priests were sanctified for seven days and consecrated to begin their service for God and the people.

Three times in the beginning of this portion it says, “The fire on the altar shall remain aflame on it.” Twice the Torah adds, “it shall not be extinguished.” This can also be translated as, the fire on the altar shall remain aflame in him, meaning in each person. The Baal Shem Tov said, “Our heart is the altar” (Soul of the Torah, P. 196). This section of Tzav is the passage that is quoted at the beginning of Sephardic and Chassidic services, to inspire those at prayer to greater efforts toward love and sincerity.

There is an interesting statement in this portion concerning the meal offering. Part of it is called a memorial portion for God. The rest was consumed by the Priests. We might think that God would desire the largest part of the offering, giving the priest a small salary or meal to eat. But the reverse is true. God only requests a very small portion, just enough for us to remember God: to remember to thank and bless the Holy One. The greater portion is for us, for those who work in God’s service and help one another. Also, the meal offering was to be unleavened. God is satisfied with the minimum, with the ordinary, the everyday. Not the grandest offering; not a cake or loaf risen to great heights, but the most basic, real, down to earth offering, our very selves.

Also, the letter mem in the word flame is written smaller than the other letters. Perhaps this encourages us not to be showy with our dedication to God’s service; and not to be intermittent in our spiritual passion: one minute with our hearts aflame, the next indifferent. Rather, we are asked to have a small steady flame burning in our hearts, one that should never go out. The S’Fat Emet relates this to the V’ahavta prayer, that we should speak of our love for the Divine Essence inwardly, “when you sit in your house and when you walk by the way, when you lie down and when you rise up.” In other word: always. It is our hearts and minds that is important to God.

The Zohar comments on a verse from Job (1:5), “And when the days of the feast would come to their end, Job would send and sanctify them, and he would rise early in the morning, and offer burnt offerings according to the number of them all; for Job said, It may be that my sons have sinned, and cursed God in their hearts.” The Zohar (II:239b) says: “this… refers to the Community of Israel, and the term ha'olah (that which ascends), to the evil thought that rises up in our minds to turn us aside from the way of truth. The verse thus continues: ‘on its fire-wood upon the altar all night’, signifying that the evil thought has to be consumed in fire so as not to allow it to grow.”

Thus the Zohar speaks about the burnt offering as an atonement for evil thoughts. This is about the ultimate mantra: a stream of consciousness that consumes our negativity, our less than worthy inner chatter, replacing them with holy words and holy thoughts. The flame of love purifies us inwardly. This Shabbat is Shabbat HaGadol, the great Sabbath before Pesach; the Shabbat, as the Apter Rebbe taught, in which the hidden is about to be revealed. The S’fat Emet said, “In the soul of every person there lies a hidden point that is aflame with love of God, a fire that cannot be put out.” When that hidden flame burns quietly and steadily in our hearts, then our transformation will be revealed in the light shining on our faces and the faces of those whose lives we touch. May we nurture and feed the inner flame of our love with the fuel of our intention, the desire to help and be of service, the desire to love and be loved, and may we with Divine guidance and blessing be purified, sanctified, and transformed.