Realism and Sacrifice

Rabbi Joel Fleekop

Saturday, April 1, 2006

April 1st will forever be remembered in the Chappell family as the date of Jacob's Bar Mitzvah. But for many people around the world, especially those who think they are comedians, April 1st means one thing. April Fools Day.

There is a lot to like about April Fools Day. Like Purim and Mardi Gras, it gives people a chance to celebrate the arrival of spring. It encourages people to share their sense of humor with those they live and work with. And it is the one time of the year when politicians and television journalists might be willing to let down their hair, loosen their ties, and show a little personality.

But sometimes April Fools jokes can go too far. A quick search of the web reveals that April Fools jokes gone awry have been responsible for heart attacks, riots, unnecessary evacuations, and the filing of hundreds of false police reports.

While these failed attempts, by one individual to play a joke on another, all had a devastating affect, perhaps the biggest and most costly joke we play is on ourselves. Not just on April 1st, but all year long, far too many of us trick ourselves into believing that we or our loved ones are different than everyone else, that we are somehow immune to the problems and pressures that surround us.

Studying the commentaries on this week's Torah portion we find a warning against harboring this belief.

Parshat Vayikrah and much of the Book of Leviticus focus on the rules for offering sacrifices. As Jacob mentioned earlier, the image that comes to mind when reading about how these sacrifices were carried out does not mesh well with our modern sense of aesthetic or our belief about what constitutes holiness.

They didn't mesh with the aesthetics or beliefs of Maimonides either. Maimonides, the leading scholar of the 12th century spent his life in the rational and scientific milieu of the Arab Mediterranean. A philosopher, he taught that the goal of Judaism was perfect faith, and the goal of the Torah to keep people from idolatry.

So why, he wondered, does the Torah spend so much time mandating sacrifices, a form of worship that traces its origins to the Israelites' idolatrous neighbors.

The answer, Maimonides concludes, is realism.

If God, as Maimonides believed, wanted the Israelites to both abandon idolatry and sacrifice, then one approach would have been to simply command them to do so. God could have said, "From this moment on the way to worship me is through prayer and the fulfillment of good deeds. You must abstain from making any more sacrifices."

God could have issued a command, and the people, motivated by a combination of fear, awe, and love, would have done their best to abandon their old ways of worshipping. A portion of them might have even been successful; after all, some people do learn to ride a bike without training wheels. But for most who try, the pain of falling time after time convinces them to give up. A similar fate might have awaited many of the Israelites who may have returned not only to offering sacrifices, but idol worship as well.

And so, as Maimonides explains, God took a realistic approach.

Rather than believe that the Israelites were somehow different than everyone else, somehow immune to what was going on around them, God recognized the fact that even for God's chosen people it was impossible to avoid assimilating the values and practices of others.

And so when instructing the ancient Israelites about how to worship, God did not demand that this people, whose own ancestors performed sacrifices, and whose neighbors made daily offerings to their gods, completely avoid this form of worship.

To do so, Maimonides explains in his Guide for the Perplexed, "would have been contrary to the nature of man, who generally clings to what he is used to." For this reason, Maimonides teaches, God allowed these rituals to continue. But God transformed them.

The chapters of Leviticus dedicated to the sacrificial cult, including those read this week, set limits on when and where sacrifices take place, as well as what can be offered to God. More importantly, the Book of Leviticus gives sacrifices a moral framework. It ensures that sacrifices are made only within the context of community, without coercion, and most importantly, only to Adonai.

By offering the Israelites guidance and guidelines, rather than demanding the elimination of sacrifices, God succeeded in blotting out idolatry from amongst the community.

The approach succeeded, Maimonides asserts, because God was realistic about the affect surrounding cultures had on the Israelite's behavior.

We too have to be realistic about how insulated we and our loved ones are from the ideas and behaviors that surround us.

Regardless of whether or not we ban specific t.v. channels, forbid them from listening to certain c.d.s, or monitor what they do on the internet, our children will be exposed to a culture that seemingly advocates the use of alcohol and drugs, as well as sexual experimentation.

As parents, teachers, clergy, and members of this community, we have to decide how we are going to respond.

Just as God could have simply commanded the Israelites to stop sacrificing and hoped for the best, we can trust that telling our kids to avoid drugs, alcohol, and sex is enough. After all, we'd convince ourselves, our kids are different that those we see on television and read about in the newspaper. Plus those things don't happen in our neighborhoods, and definitely not to Jewish kids.

Or we can take a different approach, a more realistic one. Instead of pretending like these problems don't affect us or our community, we can talk about them openly. We can speak honestly with our kids and hope that as they go out into the world and confront these issues they will do so with the help of a moral foundation.

Providing such a foundation is the goal of the Union for Reform Judaism's new Sacred Choices curriculum. The program, currently being piloted at synagogues around the country, begins talking with kids as early as the sixth grade about the different values and issues that go into deciding when to begin sexual activity. The Sacred Choices curriculum doesn't tell kids what to do, but it does offer them guidance and guidelines for dealing with this important, and holy part of life.

Having worked with Jacob on his path to becoming a Jewish adult, I trust that he and his friends are serious about making the right choices as they journey through their teenage years and onto college. But they need the guidance and wisdom we have to offer. And so it is up to us, their parents, teachers, and community to decide whether we will take the problems and pressures that surround them seriously, or will we simply write off the possibility of them affecting us or our loved ones as an April Fools joke.

I hope and pray that we make the right choice.

Shabbat Shalom.