A Thought on the Parsha
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The Kedusha of Emor: Is Holiness only Skin Deep?
Through the book of Vayikra, that Torah has been concerned with kedusha,
sanctity, and how to protect it. The Torah now turns its attention
from the sanctity of the Temple to the sanctity of to those who are
constantly in the Temple - the Kohanim. The Children of Israel were
commanded in parashat Kedoshim "you shall become holy," (Vayikra
19:2) indicating that for them holiness was an aspiration, something to
strive towards, and not innate. In contrast, the Kohanim are both
commanded to become holy - "Holy shall they be their God, and they shall
not defile the name of the God ... and they shall be holy" (21:6) - and
are, at the same time, already considered to be holy: "A woman who is a
prostitute or defiled, or a woman who is divorced from her husband they
shall not take, because he is holy to his God." (verse 7). Thus, for
them the command to "become holy," is less of one of aspiring to a
status that is not yet achieved, as much as it is a command to preserve
and protect their holy status.
Now,
this idea of intrinsic sanctity is hard for many people, especially
since we live in an egalitarian, non-caste society, a society in which
status is a function of accomplishment, not a right from birth. "What
makes the Kohanim holier than any other Jew? Why are they better just
because who their father was?" we may reasonably ask. The Torah does,
to some degree, address this. He is holy, we are told, not as something
innate from birth, but because of the role which he has been assigned:
"... for he offers up the bread of God." Nevertheless, he is entitled
to this role as a birthright, and this role is not open to
non-Kohanim. This is a very challenging concept for many today.
In
addition, it seems that the Torah is not only asking us to see Kohanim
as holy because of the role that they play, but also because they have
been chosen to embody holiness on this earth. Just as the Temple is
holy because God's presence dwells in it, so the Kohanim are holy
because they are regularly in the Temple and thus God's holiness extends
to them as well: "Holy shall he be to you, for holy am I, the Lord who
makes you holy." Thus we find in parashat Ki Tisa (Shemot,
30:22-30) that the anointing oil was made to both sanctify the Temple
and its vessels, and to sanctify the Kohanim who serve in the Temple.
The Kohanim, then, are a type of klei kodesh, holy vessel, which
is holy not just because of the role he plays, but as an object, as it
were, that has been chosen to be an embodiment of God's holiness, as a
symbol of holiness.
What makes the concept of kedusha as applied to Kohanim even more challenging is the way in which the kedusha expresses
itself. In what ways does a Kohen's holiness require him to act
differently from an average Jew? First, we are told, he may not become tamei,
impure, to a dead body, unless it is of a person of his immediate
family. Second, he must be conscious of his outward appearance, and
cannot disfigure himself in mourning. And, finally, he may not marry
certain women who are seen as less than proper - a prostitute or a
divorced woman.
This is a strange and troubling list. The first demand is understandable -tumah is conceptually the antithesis of kedusha, and, were he to become tamei he would have to remove himself from the Temple and from his role of offering the sacrifices.
The
last two items on the list, in contrast, do not interfere with his
ability to function in his role, but they do - presumably - impact how
he is perceived. A Kohen who has disfigured himself, even in morning,
is not looked at with honor and respect. A Kohen who has married a
(former) prostitute would naturally be looked at by many people with
disdain. He would not be able to command their respect for him, and
thus would compromise his role as a symbol of holiness to the people.
This is also why, presumably, he is proscribed from marrying a divorce
woman. In a society which highly valued virgins, and which probably
regularly saw divorced women as "defiled," regardless of who was to
blame for the divorce, being married to a divorced woman would lower a
person's status in the eyes of many. Thus, a Kohen which must be a
symbol of holiness, and must call upon people's respect, cannot allow
himself to be seen by others with disdain.
This
focus on appearances extends to the next section of the parsha - the
concern with blemishes. We are told that a Kohen who has an external
blemish "may not draw near to offer up the bread of his God." (Vayikra
21:17). Why does a blemish matter? He hasn't done anything wrong! He
is not to blame! But, of course, people are people, and they will
naturally look with more respect on a Kohen who is tall, good looking,
and handsome, than they will on a Kohen who is physically
disfigured. People do focus on trivial externalities. Let us not
forget that the Temple itself is the epitome of a focus on the external -
with its gold and silver, its purple and crimson - the Temple was to
look beautiful and majestic so that people would see it, and God who was
represented by it, with honor and respect.
The
practical implications of holiness, then, are understandable, but they
remain quite challenging. Now we ask not only what entitles a Kohen to
this holiness, but also why this holiness is translated in such
external, superficial ways. Why are the commands not more moral and
religious, as they are in Parshat Kedoshim? Why does his holiness not
demand of him to live a life that is morally beyond repute, and that is
fully focused on serving God? We are told that "a person sees with
his eyes," but we are also told, "but God sees to the heart." (Shmuel
I, 17:7). So why not try to correct people's focus on externals rather
than tacitly accepting it, and accommodating it?
Perhaps these two questions answer one another. The Kohen's kedusha status, while present from birth, is not the kedusha of Parshat Kedoshim. The kedusha of that parsha remains the true kedusha. It is a kedusha of morality and of religiosity. It is a kedusha of
aspiration, one that the Kohanim are not excluded from. They, like
every Jew, must constantly be working to grow morally and religious, to
be closer to God not physically, but spiritually and morally. The
Kohen, like every Jew, must strive his entire life to "become holy."
The kedusha of Parshat Emor, in contrast, is the kedusha that Kohanim have from birth, but it is a very different kedusha.
It is one that they have by virtue of the role that has been given to
them, and because they have been chosen to serve as a symbol to the
people. This lesser kedusha is one that is not about who they
are, but about what they are. Who they are inside, what type of person
they are, is the concern of Parshat Kedoshim. What they are on the
outside - a symbol to the people - is the concern of Parshat Emor.
This kedusha of being not like a person and a subject, but of being like an object, like a klei kodesh, like the very Mikdash itself, is one which does express itself in terms of externals. The kedusha of Kedoshim is the kedusha of a person; the kedusha of Emor is the kedusha of an object.
The problem still remains, however. People will gravitate towards the external. People will see the external kedusha as the primary, as the one that really matters, and will ignore the more significant, but less visible, internal kedusha.
And, in fact, we know that so many people do, sadly, associate
religiosity with externals - externals of dress and appearance,
externals of performance that serve to mark one or one's community as
different, as somehow "more holy." To focus on the less visible kedusha,
the character of the person, their values, their morality, their true
religious striving - to serve God fully and in ways that truly matter -
is truly a profound challenge. It is so rare that we are able to
focus on the more important kedusha of Kedoshim, and to not be distracted by the kedusha of Emor. Who among us will not immediately assume that the rabbi with the long beard and the black hat and the long bekesha is not more holy that the clean-shaven rabbi who sometimes wears jeans?
The
challenge for us is to both acknowledge the importance that people give
to externals and appearances, and the need to accommodate it, and at
the same time to be aware that true worth, and true kedusha, lies
not without but within. If there are times that we must make certain
concessions to the way the world works, we must do all the we can to
ensure that we do not marginalize those with merely external blemishes,
that we do not give undue significance to the external- object-based kedusha of Parshat Emor. We must ensure that we keep our focus on the internal- person-based kedusha of Parshat Kedoshim. "For a man sees with the eyes, but God sees to the heart."
Shabbat Shalom!
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