"Sacrifice" and the tragedy of Torah translation

One of the reasons for our national fast on the tenth of Tevet, the rabbis teach us, is that the Torah was translated into Greek. Particularly for those of us who have grown up with our favoured English Torah translations, this may be a hard idea to connect to.

There is an old adage, however, that every translation contains elements of interpretation too. In the case of the Torah, we may have so comprehensively internalised the translated meaning that we no longer realise how distant it may be from God’s original intention.

Judaism Reclaimed examines the word “korban”, in this context. Rabbi S. R. Hirsch goes to great pains to point out how the Jewish conception of 'korban' is fundamentally different from pagan ritual. This difference, he explains, is represented by the term 'korban' itself, which is from the root 'lekarev' — to draw near. Common translations of ‘korban’ such as 'offering' or 'sacrifice', do not accurately convey the Hebrew term, and promote the popular misconception that korbanot are intended to appease or placate higher powers.

The (Latin) Vulgate employs the term oblatio an offering, while the (Greek) Septuagint uses doron (a gift or votive offering). Modern western languages follow from these inadequate attempts to translate the Torah, neither of which conveys the fundamental notion of ‘drawing close’. While the term ‘sacrifice’ implies destruction in order to placate, and 'offering' implies a prior need on behalf of the receiver, 'lekarev'focuses upon the need of the 'makriv'—the person bringing the korban — to draw close and dedicate all aspects of that person and his or her personality to God and His Torah.

Rav Hirsch develops this distinction between the Jewish korban and pagan sacrifice further, focusing on their respective procedures for slaughtering the animal. Slaughter, Rav Hirsch writes, is the focal point of idolatrous pagan rituals, with an emphasis on the killing and destruction of a living creature in order to satiate the bloodthirsty lusts of angry and vengeful gods. The Torah takes great care to distance itself from such heathen rites and ideologies by downgrading the significance of shechitah within the korban procedure: a Mishna (Zevachim 32) teaches that shechitah is the only part of the Mikdash service which is valid even when performed by non-kohanim, women, slaves and the ritually impure. Another Gemara (Zevachim 14b) goes so far as to state that shechitah is not really part of the korban process altogether.

An examination of Rav Hirsch's general approach to shechitah reveals a great symbolic depth to its preparatory role with regard to the bringing of korbanot. Rav Hirsch notes that, while humans and animals bear many superficial similarities, the process of shechitah highlights the crucial distinction between the essence and purpose of mankind and that of the animal kingdom. Unlike animals, humans possess both intellect and free will. The challenge facing them is how to control the instincts and urges which arise from their physical nature by means of the intellect and free will with which they are endowed. When consuming meat however, a person is incorporating animal flesh — symbolising unrestrained physical instincts and urges — into his own body. The Torah therefore requires that such eating be preceded and prepared for through the act of shechitah, which represents the mastery and control of the human mind over the realm of animalistic physicality.

This theory, explains Rav Hirsch, can account for many of the detailed laws governing the shechitah process. Shechitah is only valid when it is performed by the gentle movement of a sharp knife across the animal's throat, severing both the oesophagus and the wind-pipe and causing an instant loss of consciousness followed by death. Any involvement of pressure (derisah) or tearing (ikur), these being methods typically employed by animals to kill their prey, instantly invalidates the entire process and renders the animal a "neveilah", fit only for animal consumption ("lakelev tashlichun"). The careful precision required in cutting the animal's vital pipes involves a degree of subtlety and control that is unique to mankind. This teaches a powerful lesson: the animal material that will be absorbed within the human body must be subservient to the free will of the human intellect, no longer governed by the forces of purely physical compulsion.

When one approaches God's Mikdash in order "lekarev", to draw close to Him by bringing a korban, the fact that the process is initiated through shechitah symbolises that one is approaching as a 'human' — but one who seeks to establish and maintain control of his physical urges. This mirrors another fundamental theme in Rav Hirsch's works: that one must "be a mensch — a decent human being, before attempting to be a Jew"; first acquiring humane virtues and only then proceeding to pursue spiritual proximity to God. Avraham, with whom the founding covenant of Judaism was sealed, and Moshe, the great leader and lawgiver, both spent many decades caring for others and championing the cause of the oppressed before receiving their unique revelations and missions. This demonstrates that moral virtue is a fundamental value that must precede and subsequently underpin one's entire relationship with God. Without being an ethical person, as the prophets teach, any attempt at spiritual excellence is futile.

In a similar vein, just as one's social interaction with fellow humans must be perfected before seeking to scale the spiritual heights, so too should 'human' control over one's animalistic urges be seen as a crucial condition to be met before even seeking to draw close to God through a korban. The preparatory status of shechitah within the korban process therefore performs a dual function: it rejects the notion that korbanot are synonymous with pagan appeasement of bloodthirsty gods, while positively signifying that one must first assert control over his physical urges and instincts before approaching the spiritual domain of the Mikdash and its korbanot.

This is a crucial symbolic message and function of korbanot that those who are limited to a translation of the Torah are in danger of missing out on completely.

More about Judaism Reclaimed: Philosophy and Theology in the Torah can be found at www.JudaismReclaimed.com.

First posted on Facebook 26 March 2023, here.

The role and relevance of Korbanot: then and now

With the inauguration of the Mishkan nearing its completion, a final set of korbanot is set to be brought as part of its ceremonial designation as a “Tent of Meeting” between God and the Israelites. It is on these verses that Rabbi S. R. Hirsch makes a particularly sharp observation. Noting that, after these korbanot are brought, Moshe and Aharon then enter the Mishkan and recite blessings and prayers – at which point God’s glory appears – he writes that:

“God’s Presence, however, did not appear immediately upon the completion of the offerings. If that had happened, it might have lent credence to the pagan superstition that in the offering procedures there is a mysterious quality that has a magical effect upon God and produces an appearance of God to man, in a kind of physical cause-and-effect.”

The ritual nature of korbanot and their superficial similarity to pagan sacrifices meant that it was extremely important to tightly control this area of divine worship. Rabbi Yehuda HaLevi argues in the first section of his Kuzari that performance of all commandments must be dictated by careful consideration of halachah rather than enthusiastic embracing of what subjectively “feels right”. This is particularly true of korbanot, where a thin line separates legitimate service of God – within which korbanot express one’s total dedication to God – from attempting to innovate rituals and thereby producing, as Rav Hirsch described, a magical and superstitious effect upon God.

Talmud Reclaimed explores another dimension of this need for precision in korbanot. The opening section of the book analyses the structure of biblical law, which is often sparse in terms of explicit scriptural instruction – with further details supplied by the oral tradition and rabbinic legislation (through the authority of a Sanhedrin).

The copious details of lengthy biblical passages dedicated to the construction of the Mishkan and the sacrificial service which was performed there is therefore highly unusual. One possible reason for this relates to Rambam’s explanation of korbanot in his Moreh Nevuchim. 

In the understanding of Rambam, the primary function of korbanot was to wean the ancient Israelites off pagan thought and ritual towards a monotheistic faith and form of worship. For this to be effective, a very careful balance had to be struck: on the one hand the korbanot rituals had to be sufficiently similar to familiar forms of worship, while on the other hand crucial theological and practical distinctions were necessary to distance the Israelites from paganism. This means that in the area of korbanot – unlike other mitzvot – relatively more details were explicitly commanded to ensure that the balance not be disrupted. 

I’ve received numerous comments and questions over the years as to the relevance of Rambam’s reason for korbanot in the modern era: surely we, with our sophisticated 21st century mindset, don’t require any sacrificial assistance to divest ourselves of pagan proclivities? These comments tend to get me wondering what Rambam would make of the state of Judaism today and its idiosyncrasies. Of mass pilgrimages to graves. Of strange segullot and dancing around bonfires at Rashbi’s grave. Perhaps, in Rambam’s estimation, a return of the divinely-ordained and tightly controlled order of korbanot might help reduce the experiential attraction of some of these practices?

See more at www.TalmudReclaimed.com.

First posted on Facebook 7 April 2024, here.