Congregation KTI

Our Torah portion this week, Va-yikra, kicks off the book of Leviticus with an in-depth description of various sacrifices.

One of these is the hattat, or purification offering, which would be offered in response to unintentionally committed sins, helping to spiritually counteract the error.

The Torah presents various scenarios based on who committed the sin.

Rashi, based on an earlier source, notices a slight difference in how these are phrased. Concerning a sin committed by an anointed High Priest, the priest would dip his finger in the animal’s blood and sprinkle it in front of the curtain of the Shrine—a part of the sanctuary known as the Kodesh, or Holy Place.

Yet later, when describing the response to an unintentional sin committed by the entire people of Israel, the priest would sprinkle the blood in front of the curtain; the word for Holy Place is omitted.

Rashi notes a parable comparing the two situations.

The sin of the priest is like a rebellion against a human king undertaken by only part of the kingdom. In that case, the king would continue to relate to his loyal followers in the normal manner. So, while the sin of a priest is serious, it does not impact the status of the sanctuary, which can still be called the Holy Place.

However, the sin of the entire community is like a rebellion undertaken by the majority of the kingdom. In that case, the king would no longer bother to meet with any remaining loyalists. He would simply abandon the kingdom. By comparison, the sin of a community is so serious that it can even remove the holiness of the sanctuary. Thus, in that case, it cannot be referred to as the Holy Place.

The actions of our leaders matter. It is a big deal when they err—even unintentionally.

And yet, what ultimately matters most is the behavior of the community as a whole. Our collective decisions have the biggest impact on the holiness of a place.

This week, I continue to think about all of the Israelis who have spent the past several weeks running in and out of bomb shelters as the war with Iran continues. I don’t know how this will all unfold, although I pray that it will end in a positive way.

What I do know is that this is a moment for collective action: beyond what any leaders choose to do or not do, and whatever mistakes they may or may not make, what will ultimately matter most is how we as a Jewish people behave in these circumstances.

As we face threats in Israel and across the diaspora, will we continue to show up for each other? Will we think carefully about what this moment demands of us? Will we find sources of Jewish “joy” to balance out all of the “oy”?

All that—and more—is up to us.