The Proper Attitude Toward the Temple in Our Times (Column 412)
The phenomenon of ascending the Temple Mount and the hope of reestablishing the Temple (including practical actions to advance the matter) has gained momentum in recent years. In some cases, these actions are aimed at political goals unrelated to the Temple itself (demonstrating Israeli sovereignty on the Mount as part of the struggle with the Palestinians and Muslims), but I get the impression that more and more people are striving to build a Temple for religious reasons. At first glance, this is a Torah commandment incumbent upon us and binding on any Jew committed to mitzvot and to halakhah. And yet, not a small portion of the public—including the vast majority of its spiritual leadership, and including your humble servant—finds itself indifferent to the subject and not taking part in this war effort. As noted, some of those who do take part are not necessarily motivated by the desire to fulfill the commandment of building the Temple and by halakhah.
I ask myself whether this is merely indifference and corner-cutting on my part. Perhaps. But my very non-objective feeling is that there is something more here. A few weeks ago I was asked about the proper attitude toward the Temple at this time and in general, and a short discussion developed on the topic. I was asked there to describe my position and explain it. I did so briefly there, and here I will expand and detail a bit more.
Preliminary Note: Democratic Considerations
The discussion here will focus on whether these activities have religious or other value, and whether there is an obligation to take part in them. But first I must clear the democratic issue off the table. More than once I’ve expressed my firm view that the state must allow freedom of worship to anyone who desires it, on the Temple Mount or anywhere else, and it is a scandal that it does not allow this. But this claim is not based on the notion that there is a commandment or religious value in it, rather on considerations of freedom of worship as required in a democratic state.
Similarly, I find it intolerable that the state does not allow acts with which I disagree, such as prayer at the Western Wall by Reform Jews or by Women of the Wall as they understand it, immersion of unmarried women in mikva’ot built and maintained by the state or its institutions, marriage according to people’s own understanding and faith, adoption or surrogacy for same-sex couples, and the like. Most of these actions do not really fit my views (some are even halakhically prohibited, or at least assist such prohibition), but regardless of that I think the state should not take a position on their value, but rather allow each person to act as they understand. As I understand it, the values of democracy and liberty can reside alongside full religious commitment. These are two parallel value systems to which I am committed, and even if there is a conflict between them, this does not mean that one automatically overrides the other or that I am not bound by the other. I elaborated on this in the third book of my trilogy, and I will not enter into it here.
Of course, what I say here applies only so long as no one else is directly harmed. A person does not have the freedom to harm another person. For example, the freedom of people not to vaccinate certainly does not permit them to harm others who try to avoid infection with COVID. Without entering into who is right here, the state can decide and require one side to waive or pay a price. But it is important to clarify that the term “harm” here does not mean that someone is offended by my actions or worried about my transgressions. Those who are offended on behalf of the Western Wall or on behalf of God, or who are hurt because another does not keep Shabbat for their sake, should take a pill and relax.[1] I refer here only to harm to the interests of the other person himself, and not to his paternalism over his fellow.
Just as I want everyone to be allowed to ascend the Temple Mount and pray there, I also want the state not to take a position on questions of religious outlook, and certainly not to impose its position on those who disagree (even in cases where this is the opinion of the majority. At least in some of the cases I described, this is apparently not the majority view, and the state imposes the minority’s view on the majority). Just as I would not want something contrary to my positions imposed on me, I expect that nothing should be imposed on others merely because it accords with my positions. And no, this is not a pragmatic claim (i.e., out of fear that something will be imposed on me) but a moral one: the moral imperative says that it is not right to coerce people (and as the categorical imperative teaches, the fact that I would not want compulsion imposed on me is only the indication of that. See more on this in column 122 and much more).
Let us now return to the question of the religious attitude toward the Temple and the Temple Mount as such, regardless of democratic considerations. At first glance this is a mitzvah and a clear religious value. No wonder the question arises how (and whether) one can remain indifferent and not act actively for the matter.
Initial Feelings—and Their Undoing
First, the emotions. I have already written in the past that the image of a functioning Temple—a splendid place where dozens and hundreds of animals are offered daily, and priests dressed in priestly garments walk there, sunk up to their knees in blood (see Pesachim 65b)—is essentially a mass slaughterhouse, or Auschwitz for animals; it does not exactly gladden my heart. It is not, for me, a pleasant or yearned-for picture. It is very hard for me to identify with it, certainly to long for it and to take active steps toward its restoration. On another look, these are not only feelings and emotions, but values. I oppose the slaughter of animals for no reason, certainly when it entails great suffering for them. And in general, such a picture does not strike me as an ethical and spiritual pinnacle.
Beyond all that, is my spiritual world really supposed to depend on this mass slaughter? What is lacking in my religious world today, without all this bloody commotion? Is it not enough for me to observe commandments, advance moral values, engage in rational thought and religious faith, learn Torah and practice acts of kindness (and also enjoy a few “secular” pleasures like watching the NBA, reading a book, or a good film)? What exactly is the Temple supposed to add to this pastoral picture? It will likely inject into it a lot of noise and tumult, and also a great deal of mass ecstasy and herd behavior to which I do not particularly yearn. Perhaps there will be sublime religious experiences there, but I do not miss those much either (a dyed-in-the-wool Litvak that I am). On the contrary: in my view, work on the experiential plane belongs to our lower side (far down the evolutionary ladder, somewhere deep in our primal layers). So why do I need this? Were I not afraid to say so, I would say that I ought to thank God for having spared us all that (it might even be worth adding a psalm of thanksgiving to the dirges of Tisha B’Av for the destruction. It now occurs to me that this might be a possible meaning of the surprising tune that joins the piyyut “Eli Tzion ve-Ariyah” toward the end of the kinot…).
But none of this is supposed to stand against the dozens of explicit commandments in the Torah agreed upon by all. A significant portion of halakhah and of what we study daily is dedicated to the sacrificial service and the laws connected to it. Am I not obligated, as one committed to halakhah, to swallow hard and enforce truth upon feeling (and even upon moral values)? The Torah speaks here in a clear and unambiguous voice, and it is very difficult to insert into it a conception that is averse to sacrifices. Even the prophets who cry “Why do I need your many sacrifices?” and place morals at the center—seemingly pushing Temple ritual and sacrifice to the margins—do not actually nullify the value of the service. They only protest against those who see it as the whole picture or as a substitute for the other commandments. Our Sages teach that “the world stands on three things: on Torah, on the service (that is, the sacrificial service, of course), and on acts of kindness.” Does all this not require me to overcome the feelings I described, and even the values underlying them, and to act for the restoration of the Temple and the renewal of the service in it?
Moreover, I have often told myself that my alienation and lack of identification with all matters of sacrifices and the Temple derives from my present point of view. Today it seems unlikely to me that the Temple is supposed to add anything to me, especially as I am entirely alienated from religious experiences and their spiritual value. It may be that when I find myself in a world where there is a functioning Temple, I will feel the meaning and spiritual benefit of its existence and of the service conducted there, and then I will understand why it is so important and central in halakhah and beyond. My current vantage point is a product of the landscape of my birth, and it is not necessarily correct to draw conclusions from it about realities and situations unfamiliar to me. In the halakhic context as well I have written more than once that it is difficult and improper to judge people or actions that take place in a reality unfamiliar to me (see on this, for example, here). So perhaps it is not right to judge the place and significance of the Temple in our religious lives from a contemporary point of view formed and crystallized in a completely different world?
Meta-Halakhic Considerations
R. A. I. Kook wrote his vision of vegetarianism, in which he argues—or perhaps hopes and assesses—that in the future, even when the Temple is rebuilt, no animal sacrifices will be brought there, only offerings from plant life. It is quite clear that he too was motivated by the same feelings I described above. It seems that the reservations toward Temple service and blood are not unique to me. I am in good company.
It seems that he assumes that at times the world advances beyond what prevailed in the past; that is, contrary to the common view, the present is not always necessarily degraded relative to some past utopia (as opposed to the classicist “decline of the generations”). Even if in the past there was a need for sacrificial service and it was not too grievous an affront to morality and faith, it may be that today we have progressed and it is no longer necessary, and perhaps even forbidden. It is well known that a similar idea already appears in the Rambam at the end of the Laws of Me’ilah, where he explains that the need for sacrifices was to wean people from idolatry, implying that in a more rectified world this would not be necessary.
R. Kook’s assumption is that sometimes God arranges reality (or it simply develops on its own) into a better state, and the past is not always ideal. Thus, for example, the disappearance of slavery can certainly be considered an improvement and not a deterioration of our condition. I do not generally rely on the views of earlier sages, great as they may be, but if the concern gnawing at me is that such conceptions reflect a lack of fear of Heaven, then there is not bad evidence here that this is not necessarily so. Needless to say, the overwhelming majority of the sages of Israel, across the spectrum, do not share in efforts to establish a Temple and ascend the Temple Mount. Again, I do not see them as an authoritative source, but I think this is an indication that these feelings are not mine alone. Even if they cloak it in arguments about an unworthy generation, lack of power, concerns of impurity at the holy site, and the like, the inaction and lack of cooperation with the current generation’s it’aruta d’letata (initiative from below) demand explanation. To my mind it is reasonable that there is in it something of the feelings I described.
Moreover, this spiritual improvement can come about by crooked paths. That is, even if a given state of affairs arose for reasons that seem problematic to us, that does not mean it is not a good state, and even better than its predecessors. Much has been written about the twisted emergence of kingship in Israel (David descends from Ruth, whose relationship with Boaz and, of course, her lineage, were highly questionable), and some have gone so far as to say that this is how it should be (to ward off the evil eye). There are other examples. For instance, the Talmud, and the Rambam after it, write that disputes arose in Israel because the students of Hillel and Shammai did not serve their teachers sufficiently. In Pachad Yitzchak – Hanukkah, R. Hutner writes that although the disputes arose in a problematic way, the outcome is blessed (see Chagigah 3a–3b and much in praise of dispute). He likewise writes about the encounter with Greece that paved the way for the Oral Torah (Greek logic and reason served the Sages in building the Talmudic give-and-take of the Oral Torah—“the beauty of Japheth shall dwell in the tents of Shem”). Zionism arose because of pogroms, blood libels, and other troubles of exile. The establishment of the state occurred in large measure following the Holocaust. Does that invalidate it? The state and Zionism were brought about by an explicitly secular movement. Does that necessarily invalidate them? Many Haredim claim yes, but they assume that if the path is problematic, that invalidates the result—and that is not so. Even in halakhah there are not a few prohibitions whose product is not prohibited (such as the fruits of grafted trees).
So too in our case. Even if the disappearance of the Temple and sacrifices occurred in ways that seem to us crooked—destruction and exile decreed upon us as punishment for our sins—positive results can also reach us by that route. A state in which there are no sacrifices and no Temple is not necessarily worse than what existed in the past, even if it arose out of destruction visited upon us as punishment for our sins. Following the destruction we found substitutes—such as prayer, Torah study, the development of halakhah and the Oral Torah, and more—that it is doubtful could have come about in a world with a Temple and prophecy and the people dwelling in its land. These substitutes may render the Temple superfluous (at least in its previous form). Does this mean that these substitutes are necessarily inferior? In short: bad causes do not necessarily produce bad results.
In passing I note that the Rambam and R. Kook apparently were not overly troubled by the claim I raised above—that their views took shape in an era without a Temple and without sacrifice. That did not prevent them from holding that sacrifices are something that ought to change. Did it not occur to them that perhaps when there is a Temple their view will change? Perhaps then they will experience and understand the important value and great contribution of sacrifices, which is not now clear to them? It seems that if at present it appears to them that these things do not contribute, then that is their present stance. It may be that in the future it will change, but in the meantime we are supposed to act on the basis of our current position. “A judge has only what his eyes see.”
Offerings from Plant Life
Everything I have written here is not a halakhic argument but a meta-halakhic and conceptual description. Yet, as I mentioned, on the halakhic plane there is a commandment to build a Temple, and of course many commandments of sacrifice. How can these trends be addressed halakhically? At first glance, even if in our view the state without a Temple is better and the commandments of sacrifices and offerings were meant for more degraded generations, there is still no halakhic mechanism that exempts us from so many Torah commandments. One may wonder what R. Kook, who wrote that in the future offerings will be from plant life,[2] would say to this. Where did the dozens of commandments concerning animal sacrifices go?
First, our Sages already tell us that commandments will be nullified in the world to come. The eternity of the Torah does not necessarily refer to the stages of redemption, but perhaps only to the world as it is today. At the stage of redemption, things can change. Beyond that, the Sages often reinterpreted verses by midrash and took them out of their plain sense, and there is no principled impediment that in the future something similar will be done, so that it will be decided that offerings are brought from plant life. If “an eye for an eye” can mean monetary compensation, then sacrificial offering can be from plant life. If the “rebellious and wayward son” case is made applicable only when impossible conditions obtain (his parents are of equal height and their voices identical), then offerings from animals can be made applicable only when the skies are the color yellow. A Sanhedrin established in the future can interpret the Torah, as its predecessors did in Talmudic times, and there is no limit to their ability to change halakhah. Beyond that, there is a Tannaitic dispute whether we do or do not derive law from the reasons for the commandments (doreshin ta‘ama d’kra). In practice we rule that we do not, but when a Sanhedrin is reestablished it can disagree with its predecessors and do derive law from the reasons. Indeed, as R. Kook writes in his book LeNevukhei HaDor, it can annul the halakhic stance that we do not derive law from the reasons. Note that once we derive the reasons, the Rambam’s rationale for the commandments of sacrifices cited above can become a halakhic anchor establishing that offerings come only from plant life.
All this may happen in the future, when there is a messiah and a Sanhedrin. What about now? True, we have no Temple and thus there is no dilemma of sacrifices, but striving to build a Temple is relevant even today. The commandment to build a Temple still exists and is relevant now. We do not have a Sanhedrin to change this commandment, and as long as it has not been changed, at first glance we are obligated to act for its fulfillment even if we lack identification with it. Does this mean that each of us is supposed to act actively toward restoring the Temple?
The Commandment to Build the Temple
There are midrashim that determine that the future Temple will descend from heaven and not be built by us. The well-known words of Rashi, Tosafot, and the Ritva in Sukkah 41a (s.v. “I nami”) all write that the future Temple will descend built and complete from heaven and not be built by human hands. See also the comment of the Arukh LaNer there. All this is stated despite there being a halakhic commandment of building a Temple that is incumbent upon us (and many pilpulim have been offered to reconcile their view).
Many to this day see in this a reason not to act actively to establish a Temple, despite the commandments. In light of what I wrote above, it may be that the meaning is that we leave this decision in Heaven’s hands. If they decide to send down a Temple, then apparently our current position is mistaken. If and when there is a Temple, we will understand that our present stance was based on an incorrect premise and on partial information. But it is possible that Heaven will decide not to send it down, and then that will be a de facto confirmation of the correctness of our present position.
Another aspect is the entity upon whom the obligation to build a Temple falls. Simply put, this is a commandment incumbent upon the king—that is, upon the public. The current situation is that the Jewish public is not really interested in this. In such a situation, it is not proper for individuals to do so on their own initiative in its stead, since they are not the ones commanded in the mitzvah (and if they do, they must pay the public a fine of ten gold coins for “stealing a mitzvah”).
However, in my essay on Parashat Nitzavim–Vayelekh, Mida Tova 5767, I noted that with commandments incumbent upon the public there is a responsibility upon individuals. I brought there from the Sefer HaChinukh (Mitzvah 612) who wrote that the commandment is incumbent upon the public, yet if an individual remained at home and did not go up to Jerusalem he has neglected this positive commandment. I wondered there how it can be that the positive commandment is fulfilled by those obligated in it (the majority of the public who arrived and fulfilled the Hakhel ceremony), and yet a person can be culpable as one who has neglected this commandment. If the commandment was fulfilled, how can one be faulted for neglecting it? I explained there that although the commandment is incumbent upon the public and it is the public that fulfills it, the responsibility that the commandment be fulfilled rests on each individual. Therefore, an individual who remained at home did not fulfill his responsibility, and then, even if the commandment was fulfilled by the public, he is considered as neglecting a positive commandment. The conclusion is that even if the public does not fulfill the commandment, individuals are not exempt from their responsibility to see to it that it be carried out. If so, with regard to building the Temple, one can argue that even if the public is commanded, individuals have a responsibility to ensure that the public fulfills its duties.
Now I wish to argue more. My claim is that today there is no “public” at all that can be considered as Klal Yisrael. There are Jews of many kinds, but most are not committed to the Torah, and therefore it is difficult to relate to them as a Jewish collective and a Jewish public obligated in our communal commandments. In a situation where there is no Jewish public (Klal Yisrael has ascended on high and become an ideal), the description that the public does not want to fulfill its duty is not exhaustive. The more accurate description is that there is no public at all that is obligated. In such a situation it is doubtful to what extent communal commandments apply, and consequently there is great doubt as to the extent of individual responsibility to ensure that the public carries out its (non-existent) duties.
Incidentally, in my opinion the same applies to conquering the land. Even according to the Ramban (positive commandment 4 in his additions to the Sefer HaMitzvot), where he determines that there is a commandment to conquer the land, it may be that today there is no such commandment—not only because the public is not interested in it, but also because the entity commanded (the public) does not exist.
Practical Summary
My starting point is that I do not have great longing for a state of affairs in which there is a functioning Temple. In my eyes it is also not a desirable condition ethically and spiritually. I may be mistaken because I have not experienced it, but until proven otherwise my position stands (following the Rambam and R. Kook). Admittedly, this is only the meta-halakhic plane. As for the halakhah obligating us to build a Temple, we saw several considerations why it is not necessarily relevant to us today. These are, of course, not decisive arguments, and one can quite easily challenge and dispute them. After all, we are dealing with Torah commandments agreed upon by all, and it is hard to nullify them on the strength of mere reasoning.
However, here our fundamental lack of desire returns. As noted, my thinking on the subject is based on the assumption that I do not see in this a great lack, and I do not see in the Temple and sacrifices an added value for our service of God and our spirituality. In such a state, even if I cannot, on the strength of mere reasoning, nullify Torah commandments, it is still reasonable within halakhic discussion to choose the interpretive path that exempts me from active involvement for these commandments (establishing a Temple and offering sacrifices). If God wishes—it will happen, but I will not act to bring it about; in the spirit of “yeitei v’lo achmineih” (“let it come, but may I not see it”). To put it in the style of the early authorities in Sukkah cited above: I leave the matter to Heaven. If God decides that it is proper even in our day, let Him send down a Temple from heaven. And in general, each person chooses the missions to which he devotes his efforts (after all, one cannot do everything). So for one who feels as I do, it is only natural that the mission of promoting the building of the Temple and the offering of sacrifices will not be the one he chooses to focus on, even if he had no way to challenge it.
It may be that after a Temple is established and I experience its significance directly, I will realize that I am mistaken. Perhaps I will then see that the contribution of the Temple and sacrifices to the service of God is essential and unparalleled. In such a case I will presumably change my position (I hope). But as long as this is my current vantage point, my attitude to the issue is derived from it and not from what might change in it if and when the situation changes. A judge has only what his eyes see.
[1] Incidentally, in a debate with Mordechai in the talkbacks after column 410, the argument arose that the custom of the place at the Western Wall is to pray separately and in the Orthodox rite, and therefore it is legitimate not to allow Reform Jews to pray there as they understand. By that logic, the custom of the place at the Temple Mount, Rachel’s Tomb, the Cave of the Patriarchs, and the like is Muslim prayer only, and therefore it is legitimate not to allow Jews to ascend there and certainly not to pray there. I see no difference (yes, yes, I know: a Jewish state. And democratic…).
[2] Incidentally, there is such a midrash of our Sages as well.
Discussion
With God’s help, 26 Elul 5780
At first glance, we do not need to discuss the question, “Why do we need a Temple and sacrifices?” Just as the Sages wondered about the question “Why do we blow [the shofar]?” when the answer is simply “The Merciful One said: blow,” so too we may say, “Why Temple and sacrifices? – The Merciful One said…” and nothing more need be added.
However, even regarding the shofar, the sages of the generations sought reasons that would make the commandment meaningful to us: whether as a means of alarm and awakening to repentance and improvement; or as a remembrance of the shofar of the Giving of the Torah, a remembrance that leads to a renewed acceptance of Torah; or as a remembrance of the shofar of the future redemption, a remembrance that arouses anticipation for redemption.
Regarding the Temple, the biblical verses themselves give various reasons. In the Torah we were commanded, “And let them make Me a sanctuary, that I may dwell among them”; the Temple intensifies the indwelling of the Divine Presence among the people of Israel. It internalizes in the heart of the nation and its individuals the close bond with the Creator of the world, a bond that obligates us to a life of elevation and holiness.
The prohibition of private altars and the concentration of worship “in the place that the Lord will choose” internalize in the heart of the nation and its individuals the need to unite, to stand before God “as one person with one heart,” and not as scattered individuals each of whom “does what is right in his own eyes.” In the Temple we serve God together, and from there Torah and instruction go forth to the entire people, and in the end of days – to the entire world.
Another aspect was emphasized by David, who expressed discomfort that he as king dwelt in a magnificent cedar house while “the Ark of God was within curtains.” Just as a flesh-and-blood king has a palace expressing “the glory of his kingdom,” so too there should be a house that in its splendor expresses the honor and supremacy of the King of kings.
Solomon, in his appeal to Huram king of Tyre (II Chronicles 2), emphasizes the purpose of the House: “for the name of the Lord my God, to dedicate it to Him”; the building of the House will express the holiness of God. And an additional purpose: “to burn before Him sweet incense, and the continual arrangement, and burnt offerings morning and evening, on Sabbaths and festivals of the Lord our God; this is forever incumbent upon Israel.” The emphasis here is on the communal offerings brought as an obligation, day by day, on Sabbaths and festivals.
In his prayer at the dedication of the Temple, Solomon presents another aspect of the Temple as the place toward which the community and individuals pray (and even the foreigner who is not of the people of Israel) in times of trouble and distress, when the request for help is bound up with submission and repentance. And God agrees with him (II Chronicles 7): on the one hand, “I have chosen this place for Myself as a house of sacrifice,” and on the other hand, deliverance from distress is also conditioned on spiritual work: “If My people humble themselves… and pray and seek My face and turn from their evil ways – then I will hear from heaven, and forgive their sin and heal their land.”
Isaiah also sees the Temple as a place to which all the nations stream in order to learn the ways of the God of Jacob, “For out of Zion shall go forth Torah” – acceptance of Torah “from above downward”; and on the other hand, as a place for prayer and the worship of God by Israel and by all humanity: “And I will bring them to My holy mountain and make them joyful in My house of prayer; their burnt offerings and their sacrifices shall be accepted upon My altar, for My house shall be called a house of prayer for all peoples.” The physical sacrificial service is bound by an inseparable bond to the spiritual service of prayer.
Even when the physical Temple is destroyed, the spiritual Temple service continues, as Solomon says (II Chronicles 2): “this is forever incumbent upon Israel,” which is expounded in Menachot 110 concerning “Michael the great prince stands and offers a sacrifice before the Lord.” Tosafot there bring two explanations found in the Midrashim. According to one Midrash, Michael offers “the souls of the righteous,” while according to the other Michael offers “lambs of fire.”
Perhaps the idea embedded in these Midrashim is that the spiritual service of the Temple can be: (a) the self-dedication of the souls of the righteous; (b) “lambs of fire,” which in thought express the unification of the entire nation in the service of God, just as the continual communal offerings expressed our being not merely individuals who serve God, but an entire nation united in its faithfulness to God.
For Michael the great prince, the spiritual service of the Temple is enough – whether in the self-dedication of individual souls or in a “lamb of fire” expressing national worship of God. But for human beings fashioned from matter, there is value also in the physical expression of the spiritual idea, in the symbolic act of bringing sacrifices to God, symbolizing, in the words of the author of Sefer HaChinukh, the dedication to God of the “animal soul” within man, and “hearts are drawn after deeds.”
With blessings, Nehorai Shraga Agmi-Psisovitz
More power to you.
A note – it was probably written inadvertently that the Rambam says this in the laws of Me’ilah. The intention is probably the Rambam in the Guide for the Perplexed, because in the laws of Me’ilah he treats sacrifices as a decree and does not write that they will change.
And another note: the attitude toward Zionism is also discussed in the same way. That is to say, the rabbis throughout the generations felt that the Land of Israel is perhaps a commandment and the source of commandments in the Torah, but it is not necessary, etc., and according to their feeling there is no need for it; and if the Holy One, blessed be He, decides to bring it, all well and good, and if not, perhaps we will also interpret the Torah to mean that “the place that the Lord will choose” and Jerusalem refer to Arosa and Interlaken, and there the Lord commanded the blessing forevermore (why not?). I truly think that the anachronistic arguments against the opponents of Zionism can also be rejected by the same arguments you raised, but somehow there is an existential expectation in daily life that a person take himself in hand in a certain direction. I have no philosophical claim here against the article, but it leads to a twilight state in which, in other areas, we do not live this way.
And as others have already said, the Temple is not only sacrifices but also, for example, the authority of the Sanhedrin and more. So the reluctance should ostensibly apply only to the sacrificial part.
1. You are right in principle, but de facto there is a connection. The fact is that in practice sacrifices are not offered without a Temple. Beyond that, a Temple without sacrifices is a nice idea, but I do not know what its nature would be, and whether it would have to be located in the same place. That completely changes the question I was dealing with (whether to establish a spiritual center in Kfar Saba? What would they do there: discussions among intellectuals and music performances?)
The well-known dispute between Rambam and Ramban is whether the Temple is a means for sacrifices (a house of offering) or whether sacrifices are a means to cause the Divine Presence to dwell there. Either way, sacrifices require that place (cf. a cultural center in Kfar Saba).
2. When you do it within an established public framework, that is something else entirely. Besides, I do not distinguish between individual and communal sacrifices. As far as I am concerned, if the Temple returns then all sacrifices return as well (cf. Kfar Saba).
3. There it is not a very successful example. The situation that emerged is not ideal, but given our condition it is the best available. Yet it is clear that there is hope for the return of the ideal state. I am speaking about a real change for the better. By the way, I have no doubt that those who deal in various aggadot can find many good examples of the point.
4. That is culture, not religion. There is no commitment there, which is the essence of Jewish religiosity. Today there is no collective that functions as a halakhic collective and follows the path of halakhah. In my opinion it is absurd to view such a situation as a Jewish collective. Weber already pointed to the secularization of religious ideas (a Protestant secular person is not like a Catholic, Jewish, or Muslim secular person). His “Protestant thesis” is a clear example of this.
5. I did not know that, but it does not really matter. I am not an expert on his views, and I brought him only as supporting evidence (as I also explained in the column). In any case, you write that he still thought they would ultimately cease.
6. Many thanks.
Indeed true. I got confused.
Indeed, I dealt here only with the aspect of sacrifices. The aspects you raised that are connected to the restoration of the Sanhedrin I wrote about in the past. That is a different question. By the way, one can establish a Sanhedrin without any connection to the Temple. The Chamber of Hewn Stone is not very essential to its functioning. So that is an entirely different question.
As I wrote in my response to Yehonatan above, I know that theoretically people speak about a Temple without sacrifices, but to me this is an empty idea (until you tell me what they would do there), and it also completely changes the question under discussion (cf. the cultural center in Kfar Saba, in my response there).
I did not entirely understand: according to the Rabbi’s approach, why must we fully identify with and fast wholeheartedly on the fasts of the destruction and on Tisha B’Av in our day? Over what exactly are we supposed to weep and mourn for the destruction, not merely by rote, and over what are we supposed to rejoice that we have merited redemption (in those areas where it seems that the generations have advanced)?
Thank you very much for the important clarification!
With wishes for a good year and good tidings
You wrote: “Beyond all this, is my spiritual world really supposed to depend on this mass slaughter? What is lacking in my religious world today, without all this bloody mess?”
I do not think this is a good argument, because of course you do not know what you are missing when you do not yet have it; as they say, appetite grows with eating. If you have not yet tasted it, then of course you do not know what is lacking to you.
Hello, Rabbi.
In longing for the Temple there is an element you did not mention. You wrote that you see religious experiences as a low and primitive realm. In a certain respect I agree with you, although there is a difference between ecstasy in Uman and at a Beitar match (I have been to both). There is a spiritual dimension in reality that even super-intelligent and rational people recognize. You mentioned Rav Kook; of course, Rabbi HaNazir as well – both speak about it.
The yearning for the Temple is for “Three times a year all your males shall appear before the Lord your God… and they shall not appear before the Lord empty-handed.” I do not think this is a metaphor. This is not about throwing away reason, but about developing a mental sense that once existed and was lost; and perhaps a coarse, diminished model of it exists in emotional religious experiences, but it is not identical with them.
The Torah says we are a wise people, and it also says we can see. When one reads, for this purpose, a book like HaMiddot LeCheker HaHalakhah, that is indeed good evidence of our wisdom. I, and many others, long for the ability to see God.
Hello Rabbi.
It is difficult for me that the article completely ignores the reason for sacrifices; I would even say that it is driven by a basic assumption that sacrifices are a gift to the Holy One, blessed be He – an assumption that almost morally superfluizes them. But it seems to me a simple and clear argument that there is great moral benefit in the fact that when a person sins it costs him money. A person who sorts on Shabbat מתוך carelessness and lack of attention will afterward have to spend from his own pocket. Likewise, there is benefit in the fact that a person who was saved from death should do something and bring money to the Temple, and similarly a woman after childbirth, etc.
And what about the poor animals? Here I would answer and say: why is a psychological, moral need worth less than a bodily value? Why is eating an animal in order to nourish our body okay, but slaughtering it in order to improve our ways not okay?
Where is the Midrash mentioned in note 2, that in the future they will offer only from the plant kingdom?
Simply put, the avoidance of dealing with the Temple is not explained by the special character of the Temple but is rather a sweeping avoidance of innovations and upheavals. The overwhelming majority likewise refrain from tekhelet, even though the identification is apparently fairly convincing. What they have in common is passive inaction, and the commandment falls away on its own – all the more so with a massive change like renewing the Temple in our generation, when we are orphans of orphans who follow those who left us, etc.
In my opinion there is great benefit in establishing the Temple today, precisely according to Rambam’s words in the Guide for the Perplexed. True, today people do not sacrifice on private altars or to demons, but much of the public flocks to Uman, Meron, Lizhensk, etc., and comes close to “inquiring of the dead.” Would it not be preferable that instead they make pilgrimage three times a year to the Temple, where at least it would be clear that they are worshipping God (even if it is not worship on the highest level)?
I know that theoretically it is possible people would do both, but I imagine that if pilgrimage became what it once was, the yearning to seek other places would decline. I wrote at greater length in English, here: https://torahclarity.blogspot.com/2016/09/he-has-no-physical-form.html
I am sorry, please ignore the above comment; you yourself wrote this later on. My fault.
Hello Rabbi
Some time ago I asked you on the site’s Q&A about the following, and it seems to me worthwhile to bring it here as well, for the benefit of the readers and commenters.
Starting from minute 19 in the video: the words of Rabbi Shmuel Nadel (the son of the legendary R. Gedaliah Nadel) regarding the idea of renewing the sacrificial service in our time – words that caused an uproar and astonishment in the audience.
He quoted a friend who told him, “The Holy One, blessed be He, does us a kindness by preventing us from having sacrificial worship,” and see what he quotes there in this context in the name of the Chazon Ish:
Hello Rabbi.
First of all – I must admit that I thought more highly of you before I read this article. What I read was a basic assumption, emotional at its root, and supposedly “rational” halakhic excuses for why it is correct. I find it hard to believe that the Rabbi himself believes the arguments he raised [for example, I find it hard to believe that the Rabbi, as a pronounced rationalist, would hold by the “approach” (it is hard to say this is really Rashi’s approach, since he wrote it once, against dozens of sources where he wrote the opposite) of Rashi and Tosafot. Does the Rabbi really think God will lower a Temple from heaven?]
In my opinion, here the Rabbi made the reason for the commandment into the main thing, and because of it found an excuse not to fulfill it. I find it hard to believe that from a halakhic discussion rooted in verses and Hazal the Rabbi would arrive at the same conclusion. Hundreds of commandments, a book and a half of the Torah, and a whole order of the Talmud – all because there is no spiritual longing? Maybe the Rabbi should study in depth what the Temple really is and find the spiritual longing for it.
In David’s time they did not build the Temple until a plague came [Ramban]. In the Second Temple period, it took a prophet crying out against the people, who said, “The time has not yet come, the time for the House of the Lord to be built,” with the verse, “Is it a time for you yourselves to dwell in your paneled houses while this House lies in ruins?!” Diaspora Jewry did not long for the Land until the Holocaust. And still we have not learned the lesson?
Second – the main work of the Temple activists [among whom I count myself] is public advocacy. To try to cause the public to understand what we have lost. So what the Rabbi wrote, that there is no point in working toward building the Temple when the public does not want it, is not an excuse not to join those organizations. For example, the Rabbi is invited to visit the Temple Institute [located in the Jewish Quarter near the steps down to the Wall], which is the most serious and one of the oldest bodies promoting the building of the Temple, and to see that the main work is school activities, explanation for visitors, and publication of books and materials for the public. Does even that have no value in the Rabbi’s opinion? Causing the people of Israel to want the fulfillment of some 200 Torah commandments?
With the blessing, “Do not be intimidated by any man”
Someone.
First, I am glad your mistaken impression of me has been corrected.
Second, I explained my position very well. If all you see there are emotions, that is your interpretation. It is hard for me to deal with unsupported and unreasoned claims that ignore what I wrote.
As for the Temple descending from heaven, I did not say I adopt Rashi’s position. What I wrote is that this mystical claim expresses a principled stance similar to my own (that the Holy One, blessed be He, is the One who should decide whether the Temple is built or not).
Who spoke about the reason for the commandment? Where did you see anything of the sort in my words?
It may be that I ought to study in depth what the Temple is, except that I do not see how that is done. The exhibits are probably good for schools, and good health to them and to you. I do not see how they contribute to the principled questions.
The claim of a lack of spiritual longing (a bit of an understatement) does not mean there is no commandment, but rather that I do not find it proper to focus on it. When it becomes relevant and you see that I refuse to participate, we can talk.
And finally, I did not understand how all this is connected to “Do not be intimidated.”
If the public is mostly secular Jews, and almost entirely so, then the collective too is a secular Jewish collective, and as such it is obligated in public commandments just as a secular Jew is obligated in keeping Shabbat. Is that not so?
?
Any chance?
That was exactly my claim: a collective is different from an individual. The existence of an individual is a biological fact, but a collective exists only if it functions out of a shared collective consciousness. When there are many Jews – and even in recent generations some of them function as a collective – as long as it does not function as a Jewish collective, there is no entity here worthy of the name “the community of Israel.” An individual Jew is the child of a Jewish mother, but a Jewish collective is not merely an aggregate of Jews.
Would your view regarding the community of Israel also apply to other commandments, say the Sabbatical year?
That is, even if the whole people is present, there is no community of Israel that becomes obligated?
That sits a bit uneasily with the First Temple period and the halakhic conception that they were punished then for neglecting Sabbatical years.
It is not clear to me why today you hold there is no collective, whereas then there was one (certainly when the kingdom was split).
a. “Maybe it is even worth adding some psalm of thanksgiving to the lamentations of Tisha B’Av over the destruction. It now occurred to me that this may be a possible explanation for the surprising melody that joins the piyyut ‘Eli Tziyon Ve’Areha’ toward the end of the lamentations…” I laughed more than I have in a long time…
b. You probably wrote inadvertently: “True, we have no Temple and therefore there is no dilemma of sacrifices.” But the simple halakhah is that “sacrifices may be offered even though there is no House” (Megillah 10a and elsewhere; Rambam, Hilkhot Beit HaBechirah 6:15). Of course there are various obstacles that the decisors listed (and others rejected), but the absence of the Temple is not relevant to offering sacrifices. Just by way of illustration, I will cite Maharatz Chayut (Responsum 76): “In any case, I examined all sides and found nothing today that interposes to prevent the offering of the Passover sacrifice, once an altar is built today on the site where it stood originally.”
c. True, there are several Midrashim implying that the Temple will descend from heaven, but there are also opposite Midrashim**. And even the Midrashim that lean toward a heavenly Temple have been explained in various ways (for example, that there are two possibilities, or that a heavenly Temple will come as an additional story upon an earthly Temple, etc., as brought among other places by the halakhic authorities on Sukkah 41a and Rosh Hashanah 30a). In any case, one may say that it is agreed that halakhah is not learned from aggadah (Jerusalem Talmud Peah 2:4; Chagigah 1:8, and brought by the Geonim and halakhic authorities throughout the generations), and as far as I know you do not disagree with this.
And Rav Goren wrote apt words on this matter (Torat HaMo’adim, 1964, p. 472): “It may be said that according both to Rambam and to Rashi and his school, this is not relevant to us, for the commandment rests upon us to build the Chosen House whenever we have the possibility to do so. And if in the future it descends from heaven, all the better. But this belief does not exempt us from fulfilling the commandment so long as the House has not descended from heaven and there exists a real possibility of building it by human hands.”
** “When the Messiah king, who is set in the north, will awaken, he will come and build the Temple” (Bamidbar Rabbah (Vilna), Naso 13:2; Shir HaShirim Rabbah (Vilna) chapter 4; Vayikra Rabbah (Vilna), Tzav 9:6), and in the Jerusalem Talmud (Megillah 1:11) another version is brought: “When the exiles, who are set in the north, awaken, they will come and build the House, which is set in the south”; “Bar Kappara expounded: Greater are the deeds of the righteous than the making of heaven and earth, for regarding heaven and earth it is written, ‘My hand also founded the earth, and My right hand spread out the heavens,’ whereas regarding the handiwork of the righteous it is written, ‘The place for Your dwelling which You made, O Lord; the sanctuary, O Lord, which Your hands established’” (Ketubot 5a) [and that same Rashi who ostensibly supports a heavenly Temple wrote ad loc.: “The sanctuary – it is the handiwork of the righteous”].
d. There is no halakhic source whatsoever that the commandment to build the Temple rests on a king. On the contrary – the Second Temple was built without a king (as described in the book of Ezra). Also in the days of Yehoshua ben Chananiah they tried to renew the building of the Temple without a king (Bereishit Rabbah (Vilna), Toledot 64:10, and this is also cited by scholars). And well known are the words of Rabbi Acha (Jerusalem Talmud Maaser Sheni 5:2): “This means that the Temple is destined to be built before the Davidic monarchy.” By the way, some hold that the government today has the status of a king; for example Rav Kook: “And besides this, it appears that when there is no king, since the laws of kingship are also what pertains to the general state of the nation, these rights of judgment return to the nation as a whole. In particular it appears that every judge who arises in Israel has the status of a king with respect to several laws of kingship, especially as regards the conduct of the collective” (Responsa Mishpat Kohen, matters of the Land of Israel, no. 144).
Speaking of Rav Kook, here are important things he wrote:
“Behold, as has already become clear to us, there is nothing in the principles of faith nor in their branches that would deter us from the idea that the beginning of our shaking ourselves from the dust of exile may come through our own efforts in the paths of nature and the course of history. From this follows the conclusion that it is a sacred obligation to strive for this with all that lies within our power. And behold, the words of the Sages indicate in countless places, and explicitly in the well-known Jerusalem Talmud in Maaser Sheni, ‘This means that the building of the Temple precedes the Davidic monarchy’” (Otzrot HaRa’ayah II, p. 929).
A bit more Rav Kook:
“We long for antiquity and wholeness, and these longings are divine longings… monarchy and Temple, priesthood and prophecy, imprinting their seal upon all the acquisitions of life in its totality… of material strength, of human morality, of national honor, of popular wealth, and of the expansion of life. It demands for us such a quality of life that outstanding and wondrous spiritual pearls, found in our national soul more than in any people on earth, may be set within it, to perfect its beauty and add strength and might to its inwardness, and splendor and glory to its outwardness. Our ideology of the perfection of our life, so distant and wondrous, is also close and tangible in the fullness of our soul, so long as we are not busy making it forgotten and so long as we listen to our inner voice, drawing us to give place to the memories that keep it alive even in its lowliness, when its voice is pained from the earth” (Orot HaTechiyah 5).
And more on the importance of the Temple (a sampling from sayings of Hazal):
1. “Concerning the service, how so? So long as the service of the Temple exists, the world is blessed… Thus you learn that there is no service more beloved before the Holy One, blessed be He, than the service of the Temple” (Avot deRabbi Natan, version A, chapter 4).
2. “Once Rabban Yohanan ben Zakkai was leaving Jerusalem and Rabbi Yehoshua was walking after him, and he saw the Temple destroyed. Rabbi Yehoshua said: Woe to us for this, that it is destroyed, the place where the sins of Israel are atoned for” (Avot deRabbi Natan, version A, chapter 4).
3. “And ‘Lebanon’ means none other than the Temple… Why is it called Lebanon? Because it whitens the sins of Israel, as it is said: ‘Though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow’” (Sifrei Devarim 6).
4. “From the time the Temple was destroyed, the shamir ceased, the honeycomb ceased, and men of faith ceased… From the day the Temple was destroyed, there is no day without a curse, dew no longer descends for blessing, and the taste of fruit was taken away” (Mishnah Sotah 9:12).
5. “From the day the Temple was destroyed, an iron wall has intervened between Israel and their Father in heaven” (Berakhot 32b).
E. “So too the Temple is the life-force of the Land of Israel” (Pesikta Zutarta (Lekach Tov), Song of Songs 7:3).
There is also no doubt that one who experienced the Temple felt deep sorrow over its destruction, as is brought many times in Hazal (something that developed into many laws), in Josephus, and elsewhere. And perhaps today’s judge is obligated to rely on the judge of old, whose eyes truly saw…
e. Your reasoning that there is no public today is highly novel and rather vague. I do not think one can rely on such a thing without a strong basis in sources.
This reasoning is especially surprising in light of your view that a commandment-act by secular people (thoroughly secular) is like “the act of a monkey” and has no halakhic significance at all (that is how I remember it; forgive me if I am confusing things). It would therefore be natural to assume that the halakhic community of Israel (paraphrasing Horayot 3a: “these are the ones called the congregation”) does not include them.
f. Even the passive conclusion is not so simple, for this is not a marginal commandment about which we can be content that it be done by others or something of the sort. The Temple is a central foundation both in the Written Torah and in the Oral Torah, even if at present the reason is not sufficiently clear (though many have already tried to explain in our language the nature and importance of the sacrificial service and the various services in the Temple**).
** Moshe Rat and Shachar Friedman, “Renewing Sacrifices in the Modern World,” on the Lada’at Leha’amin site; Rav Amnon Dukov, “My Longing for the Temple,” in Ad Emtza Makom, Yeshivat Otniel Press; Rav Eran Moshe Margalit, “Drawing Close to a World of Temple and Sacrifices,” Ma’alin BaKodesh 10, pp. 56-69; Rav Sherlo has written much about this online.
To dear Raavad, more power to you for these apt words, truly like cold water to a weary soul! At last there are righteous Jews who put things on the table without concealment or cosmetic gloss.
A good and sweet year and may you be sealed for good
Rabbi Pinchas, Rabbi Levi, and Rabbi Yohanan in the name of Rabbi Menachem of Galya said: In the future all sacrifices will be abolished, but the thanksgiving offering will not be abolished; all prayers will be abolished, but thanksgiving will not be abolished. Thus it is written (Jeremiah 33:11): “The voice of joy and the voice of gladness, the voice of the bridegroom and the voice of the bride, the voice of those who say: Give thanks to the Lord of Hosts” – this is thanksgiving; “and of those who bring a thanksgiving offering into the house of the Lord” – this is the thanksgiving offering. And so David says (Psalms 56:13): “Your vows are upon me, O God; I will render thanksgivings to You.” It does not say here “a thanksgiving” but “thanksgivings” – thanksgiving and the thanksgiving offering.
Vayikra Rabbah 9:7
“Just as I would not want someone to force on me something contrary to my positions, I expect that they not force on others something that suits my positions. And no, this is not a practical argument (that is, out of fear that they will force something on me) but a moral one: the moral imperative says that it is not proper to coerce people (and, as the categorical imperative says, the fact that I would not want others to force things on me is only the indication of that).”
Who has heard such a thing, who has seen such things? I would not want people to force things on me that I oppose, and I will gladly force others into things I support. Your moral argument is, in my eyes, parallel to saying that police should not handcuff thieves because we would not want thieves to handcuff police officers. Just as I must compel myself to do some act, so exactly that same obligation rests on me to compel my fellow. When there is an agreement of mutual non-coercion, it is an interest-driven, anti-moral agreement that prefers tranquility to what is right – the wolves make peace and slaughter the sheep.
Paragraph 3, line 2
… the Temple intensifies the indwelling of wit in the people of Israel, internalizes in the heart of the nation and its individuals the bond…
With God’s help, ערב ראש שנת תשפ"ב
The shofar parallels the Temple, in that both symbolize and intensify the bond between the people of Israel and its God. The various aspects found in the shofar likewise parallel the various aspects found in the Temple.
On the one hand, the shofar expresses a plea for mercy from God, as stated: “Who hears the sound of the teruah of His people Israel with mercy”; and thus the Temple is a place of prayer to God. On the other hand, the shofar calls on man to listen to the word of God and His will, and the Temple is the place from which Torah and instruction go forth.
The shofar reminds us, on the one hand, of the peaks of the past – the Binding of Isaac and the Giving of the Torah – and on the other hand of the aspiration for redemption, in which “Sound the great shofar for our freedom” will be fulfilled.
And thus the Temple is a continuation of the Binding (and stands on its site); the sacrifice reminds us of our duty to dedicate ourselves to God, and to offer ourselves to Him by nullifying our will before His will. The Temple is also the continuation of Mount Sinai and the Tent of Meeting, where God met with us and made His word heard to us.
And the Temple will serve a central role in the future redemption, both as a “house of prayer for all peoples” and as the place to which all the nations will stream and seek the guidance of the God of Jacob, the place from which the Torah of peace and justice will go forth to all humanity. Just as the sounding of the shofar gathers the people to the center, so in the future “a great shofar shall be sounded, and those lost in the land of Assyria and those dispersed in the land of Egypt shall come and bow down to the Lord on the holy mountain in Jerusalem.”
With the blessing, “May it be a year of speedy redemption,” Nasaf
The purpose of the Temple is the indwelling of the Divine Presence. The indwelling of the Divine Presence means that the Holy One, blessed be He, walks among us (He can walk among us even without a Temple, but on a more faded level). That is, open providence. This has operational significance. Miracles. Mainly in wars. I would gladly conduct this bloodbath if its meaning were the Holy One’s usual artillery barrage (“And He threw into confusion…” fill in the blank. In the cases of Moses, Joshua, Barak and Deborah, Samuel, David. Apparently it was a lightning storm in which the lightning struck the enemy camp) before the charge of the ground forces. The problem is that even among the people initiating these Temple enterprises there is no understanding of this, and they act out of ego as usual (which is the barrier to the indwelling of the Divine Presence). People like to do important things in order to grant meaning and importance to their lives (which is fine) and to advance their social standing. But what has the Holy One, blessed be He, to do with that? This is true of various other important enterprises as well (truly important ones). For example, Zionism. You can really see how all our national leaders, who do not actually care at all about the people of Israel (they are not aware of it, but it pops up and is revealed every time in a test case), care only about their personal advancement or their moral pose (the upper echelon of the IDF and the law-enforcement systems), while we are, from their perspective (again, unconsciously), their servants. The left too stopped being Zionist because of ego. For example, settlement – the moment it was no longer “their thing alone” and Religious Zionism entered the field, they became enemies of settlement to the point of post-Zionism (that is the new thing).
To this must be added that there are people like Rabbi Michi who get stomachaches from the word “miracles,” and for whom it is something primitive (indeed, that gut feeling should be examined, but this is not the place to elaborate. Yet such people, in their usual autistic way, do not like to look inside themselves). In any case, what is the point of beginning the discussion of whether there is providence (or can be) or not, when the other side does not want providence and will do quite a bit so that it not appear, because it is primitive in his taste (and does not even bother to look for how it could be non-primitive)? “Who say to God, ‘Depart from us, and we desire not the knowledge of Your ways.’”
Are you not concerned that without the rabbinate’s authority over the institution of marriage, couples could marry unlawfully and have mamzer children? Or, God forbid, there could be invalid conversions leading to assimilation?
These things are happening today because of the rabbinate. I have written this more than once already.
I anticipated these remarks. 🙂
A very tendentious comment, at least part of which ignores things I wrote.
b. I mentioned the halakhah that sacrifices may be offered even without a Temple. I wrote that in practice people do not do this, and here too there is an overwhelming majority of opinions not to do it in practice for various reasons, and therefore there is no dilemma.
c. I addressed that as well. I did not mean literally that the Temple will descend from heaven. And when a great many excuses are written about something, that only means that none of them is convincing. Cf. the excuses for why Ruth is read on Shavuot and Esther on Purim.
It seems very strange to me that after you brought the fact that there are lots of explanations for Rashi in Sukkah, you brought Rashi’s words that the Temple is the handiwork of the righteous without bringing the obvious interpretation (which is not an excuse), namely that it is by virtue of the deeds of the righteous. Or perhaps the verse has been fulfilled in you that where there is tendentiousness, contradictions only help, because one can derive anything from them.
d. I did not invent the claim that “king” means a central Jewish government, not a king in the literal sense. This is very widespread, certainly in Religious Zionism, which speaks of the return of kingship to Israel. This is a public commandment.
Beyond that, there is an order to the three commandments that Israel was commanded upon entering the land. See, for example, a survey here: https://asif.co.il/download/kitvey-et/zolden/mlcot/1_7.pdf
I have already answered here more than once that before one explains what a Temple without sacrifices is, there is no point in discussing it. One can wax poetic about its virtues and provide many stories about what will happen when it exists. The question is whether the intention is not simply to establish a cultural center in Kfar Saba where they will play Hasidic music and give classes on Mesillat Yesharim. Flights of rhetoric about the meaning of the Temple, without saying what exactly is supposed to happen there, are pointless and not a basis for discussion.
e. Oh, how terrible and wondrous are the ways of tendentiousness. The acts of secular people are like the acts of a monkey, and therefore there is an all-Israel public?
Indeed, like lukewarm water on a sleepy soul. A good year to all of us.
Unfortunately there is a glitch on the site and the questions and comments are not reaching me. Others here have already preceded me.
If the need is that it cost him money, then let him give charity. Beyond that, many sacrifices do not come for sin.
I agree with every word. That is why I wrote that perhaps when I experience it I will understand more. The question is whether because of this I should now take practical steps toward restoring sacrifice. In my opinion, no.
I am occupied with restoring the Sanhedrin and halakhah and Jewish sovereignty (as distinct from the sovereignty we have today). I do not lack sacrifices.
I have much to reply to in this column (and in particular regarding a certain distortion of my words in note [1], but that another time, God willing), but the time does not permit me on the eve of Rosh Hashanah.
So I will content myself with the following question: as part of the changes in halakhah that you are promoting, have you deleted from the prayer books and festival prayer books the Musaf prayers? For the main content of the Musaf prayer (except for Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur) is a request for the rebuilding of the Temple and the restoration of the sacrificial service. (There is no need to quote; these texts are familiar to every worshipper.) I cannot imagine that you stand before the Holy One, blessed be He, and mumble a text with your mouth while your heart is not with you, in the manner of “They flattered Him with their mouth, and with their tongue they lied to Him. For their heart was not steadfast with Him, nor were they faithful in His covenant” (Psalms 78:36-37). True, according to your view there is nothing to learn from the Bible, but still – when you stand in prayer before the Holy One, blessed be He, whom are you fooling?
But surely you will answer me – read to the end of the verse: “Yet He, being compassionate, forgives iniquity and does not destroy; many times He turns His anger away and does not stir up all His wrath” … (ibid., v. 38). May it be His will.
A good year to you, your family, and all the people of Israel.
I believe I explained this well. I ask for it as a commandment, but I do not yearn for it. Do you propose that I lie to myself? Even if I wanted to, I could not (and I also do not want to). Alternatively, there is of course the way of the prophets, who reduced the praises of the Holy One, blessed be He, because His seal is truth and one who speaks lies cannot stand before Him. But I did not think my feelings and perceptions are so unequivocal as to justify changing the text of the prayer, and I explained in the column why.
A good year to you and your household as well.
It does not say there that they will offer only from the plant kingdom. Indeed, in the thanksgiving offering there is an addition of loaves and unleavened cakes, but the offering itself is an animal.
The point explained in the Midrash is that what will remain is only what is connected to thanksgiving to the Holy One, blessed be He; therefore the thanksgiving offering is not abolished, not because it is from the plant kingdom. In any case, there is no reason to force an interpretation that only the thanksgiving loaves will remain.
[Truthfully I felt it was unnecessary to write, but provocations like these cannot pass in silence 🙂 ]
c. Not excuses. There are Midrashim that say it will be built by human hands, and others that say it will be built by heaven. Especially in such situations, the *agreed* rule applies (agreed even by you) that halakhah is not learned from aggadah. Moreover, in my opinion, where there is an apparent contradiction, an attempt to reconcile the opinions is entirely reasonable, and in fact quite common as well (“we do not multiply disputes”).
As for Rashi – he himself wrote in many places that the Temple will be built by human hands: Ezekiel (43:11), Ecclesiastes (5:8), Sukkah (52b s.v. charashim), Exodus (25:9), and more (as cited under the entry “A Temple built by human hands – Rashi’s view” on the Temple Institute’s website). Especially in light of this, but even aside from it, your interpretation of his words (that the Temple will be built *by the merit of* the deeds of the righteous) is very, very forced. Furthermore, if we assume that Rashi is consistent, we would say that his exceptional explanation in Rosh Hashanah and Sukkah is a local explanation to resolve the flow of the Gemara, and as is known, the talmudic line that Rashi resolved by means of a heavenly Temple is one line in the Gemara, whereas the alternative line (that of Rav Nachman) is the one that was codified in halakhah.
In any case, bottom line, it does not matter all that much what Rashi wrote or thought; what matters is only that the agreed halakhah (by all enumerators of the commandments without exception) is that there is a commandment to build a Temple.
And as for what you wrote, that you do not learn from the Midrashim that the Temple will descend from heaven but rather that one should not be active – that is already a Midrash on the Midrash.
d. I did not quite understand your words. My claim is that whether a king means an actual king, or whether king means any elected body, there is no basis at all for the claim that we require a king in order to build a Temple. The precedents prove the opposite as well.
Regarding the assertion that today “there is no public”:
The chapters of the return to Zion explicitly teach us the opposite. The returnees from exile hastened to build the Temple despite the fact that the spiritual situation was on the brink of collapse. The overwhelming majority of the people remained in exile (Ezra 2; Yoma 9b), and even the few who ascended were from the lower strata of the people (Yevamot 37a; Kiddushin 71b). Likewise, in the land there was massive intermarriage (Ezra chapters 9-10; Nehemiah 13; Malachi 2:10-12), and Sabbath desecration was done openly (Nehemiah 13). Likewise, Torah knowledge among the public was exceedingly meager (Nehemiah 8), and social injustices also were not absent (Nehemiah 5).
In other words – if today there is no public, then in Ezra’s time as well there was no public. Yet we see that they did in fact build a Temple, and especially memorable is the cry of the prophet Haggai (1:2-4): “Thus says the Lord of Hosts, saying: This people say, ‘The time has not come, the time for the House of the Lord to be built.’ And the word of the Lord came by the hand of Haggai the prophet, saying: ‘Is it a time for you yourselves to dwell in your paneled houses while this House lies in ruins?’”
As for the order – the Gemara states that this is a binding order upon entering the land, not beyond that. The explanations of how each thing was fulfilled through the generations are only homiletic. In particular I would note that in the time of the return to Zion they did not wipe out any Amalek and did not establish any king (or any other governing body), since the few Jews who ascended had no independent rule at all; the rule was entirely Persian.
I also did not understand the matter of a Temple without sacrifices. I did not write about that. The commandment is to build a Temple with sacrifices (what will happen in practice nobody knows, but in any case that is the commandment imposed upon us).
e. I did not get to the bottom of your answer, so I will repeat my claim: if in your view a commandment-act by secular people has no halakhic significance, why should they be counted when we come to discuss the level of the public’s commitment to Torah?
In any event, I repeat my point that the very demand for this or that level of commitment, and any other spiritual condition, lacks basis and is contradicted by the precedents.
1. It is true that de facto there is a connection, but I think we are tasked with undoing it. a. Because that is the truth. b. Because it is more tactically effective. I do not know whether you intended this or whether it just came out that way, but that is *exactly* what they do in the Temple besides offering sacrifices: there is a council of rabbis there, a congress (in Greek: Sanhedrin…), and a troupe of singers. These two things belong by definition to the Temple. Both the song of the Levites and the Sanhedrin – after all, with regard to the rebellious elder we learned that if he found them outside their place, he is not executed. Therefore, if we want to restore these, we are tasked with engineering public consciousness and severing the incorrect conditioning between the Temple and sacrifices, both because that is the truth and because it is effective.
2. I do not understand. If we manage to establish the Temple as such, we can certainly later understand that perhaps not everything is suitable. And indeed, even if in principle we really encourage the offering of sacrifices, it could be that this will not truly be possible immediately. And in truth, if we do not lie to ourselves – there is no difference at all between a situation in which there is a Temple and a situation in which there is no Temple with respect to this question. If you hold that conditions of reality are good enough reason not to offer sacrifices, then the question of whether there is a Temple is completely trivial. I see no reason not to aspire to the establishment of a Temple in this context.
3. I do not know… it may very well be that Rabbi Shimon, the disciple of Rabbi Akiva, who declares that “had we been in the Sanhedrin, no person would ever have been executed” (Makkot 7a), and who himself declares that “I can exempt the whole world from judgment from the day I was created until now” (Sukkah 45b), did not exactly view the state of judicial punishment as a particularly ideal one (even if he knew that the day would come when judgment would return. What about a possible reduction of the laws? I do not know).
4. a. Forgive me, but here you fell into what you yourself have often warned against: stories of the good old wonderful past. When exactly was the whole people of Israel ever a great public scrupulously devoted to keeping the commandments? Maybe there were one or two generations according to the aggadot of Hazal – Hezekiah, who stuck a sword in the study hall, the generation of Rabbi Shimon bar Yohai, and a few such generations. But as a rule, there were always ignoramuses, who are almost identical to the average secular person today (and perhaps even worse). I think the criterion must be different; namely, anyone who does not reject in principle a connection to religion, who believes in God, even if he thinks that “He will forgive and understand” (or he does not think at all / prefers to repress it. And there are quite a few such people, if not most of the public). That may not be the most perfect faith possible, and still. b. Suppose you are right; so what? Even if you are the only one who feels committed to religion, and your criterion is correct – you are the public and the public is you. Is that not so?
One can establish a Sanhedrin without any connection to the Temple?? The Chamber of Hewn Stone is not very essential to its functioning??
“And these are the ordinances” – that you should place the Sanhedrin next to the Temple.
“The Sanhedrin went into exile and sat in the shops” – the practical difference was for capital cases.
“‘And you shall do according to the word… from that place’ – this teaches that the place is what causes [the law to apply]” (Avodah Zarah 8b and Tosafot).
And many more.
And by private providence it came about that the column dealing with the building of the House is number 412, the numerical value of “House.”
Rabbi Michi,
Read http://inbari.co.il/stone.pdf. I think it will speak to you.
But if you are entering into the considerations you raised, I will add similar considerations. Would you be willing to restore the impurity laws of menstruation and isolate a menstruant in the house of impurity? To prevent a menstruant from going out into the public domain unless she announces that she is impure (following Rambam’s opinion that all those who convey impurity to humans must cry out “Impure, impure”)? To prevent any possibility of public transportation because every car is a seat and carriage? To prevent all imports because everything produced abroad is impure with the impurity of the lands of the nations?
To restore the social-ranking laws with the social tension built into them? And according to Rambam their whole purpose is that social tension.
Indeed. One can certainly extend the point further.
May I know where the Midrash cited in note 2 is found?
Are you saying that with shemittah this is a law applying to the public and not to most individuals? In any case, if it is a law applying to the public, then my remarks should apply there as well. I believe I wrote this explicitly regarding “do not show them favor” in the context of sovereignty (not ownership), both in the context of political agreements and in the context of the sale permit in the Sabbatical year.
The main thing that makes our current situation unique is that there is no general connection whatsoever to the Holy One, blessed be He, and to Torah. In my opinion that was never the case before (even when they worshipped idols, it was a rebellion against the Holy One, blessed be He. He was always present there). Even when the kingdom is split, this is debatable (it depends on the question whether a situation is possible in which part of the people of Israel functions as a Jewish collective separately).
Those are local and technical flaws in its functioning. The Sanhedrin went into exile to Usha and Yavneh and still functioned as a Sanhedrin. People have already written about the ability to renew central authority even in our own time. So at most capital cases are nullified (and even that can be done extra-legally), and some other detail or two.
The site glitch is still continuing and I do not see comments. Again I missed this one.
As for the question itself, I seem to remember that I once saw it. But now I tried to search and found only this.
In any case, it really is written here. I saw that people argue and prove from here that the abolition of sacrifices here is not a result of concern for animal suffering. I am not at all sure of that. But in any event, one sees in this Midrash that in practice only one sacrifice will remain, meaning that the vast majority of sacrifices are abolished (possibly also, or only, because of animal suffering). A thanksgiving offering is something a person decides whether and when to bring.
And for our purposes, if this contradicts the eternity of the Torah, then this Midrash is definitely a relevant source. Why does abolishing the other sacrifices not contradict the eternity of the Torah? Like commandments that are nullified in the future.
In any case, if Hazal could expound the abolition of sacrifices for their own reasons, I do not see why one cannot expound the abolition of sacrifices on the basis of animal suffering.
For the time being, the Rabbi can use this page
https://mikyab.net/%d7%a9%d7%95%d7%a0%d7%95%d7%aa/%d7%aa%d7%92%d7%95%d7%91%d7%95%d7%aa-%d7%90%d7%97%d7%a8%d7%95%d7%a0%d7%95%d7%aa
With God’s help, ערב שבת קודש “for it shall not be forgotten from the mouth of his seed” 5782
One cannot say that sacrifices will be abolished in the future in the simple sense, for Isaiah the prophet foretells: “And I will bring them to My holy mountain and make them joyful in My house of prayer; their burnt offerings and their sacrifices shall be accepted upon My altar, for My house shall be called a house of prayer for all peoples.” Thus even in the future there will be burnt offerings and sacrifices.
After all, even in the days of Adam, when the eating of animals was forbidden to human beings, Abel innovated that animals could be offered as sacrifices. And perhaps for that very reason Cain killed him, arguing that slaughtering the firstborn of his flock was like murder. But the Creator of the world agreed with Abel’s innovation and turned to his offering.
Perhaps the intent of the Midrash is about individual offerings, whether those that come for sin or those that come as a voluntary gift, for there will be no need for them, since in the rectified world people will not sin (or will scarcely sin). Even the voluntary burnt offering contains an element of atonement, for the burnt offering comes to atone for sinful thoughts of the heart, and such failings will not exist (or will scarcely exist) in the reality of “And the Lord your God will circumcise your heart…”
Only the communal offerings will remain – the continual offerings of Sabbaths and festivals – as Solomon said to the king of Tyre (II Chronicles 2) regarding these offerings: “this is forever incumbent upon Israel.” In this rectified reality, where there are no sins requiring atonement, only thanksgiving offerings will remain.
With blessings, Nehorai Shraga Agmi-Psisovitz
I am using it. It is just that until I discovered it, I apparently missed a few comments.
Isaiah was in the First Temple period, and perhaps he was prophesying about the Second Temple.
With God’s help, 4 Tishrei 5782
To “Midrashiyah” – greetings,
In the Second Temple there was a beginning of the realization of the prophecy about the ingathering of Israel’s dispersed and the beginning of Judaism’s influence on the nations of the world, but still most of Israel remained in exile and most of the world remained idolatrous.
The full realization of Isaiah’s prophecy will be when “the mountain of the Lord’s house shall be established at the top of the mountains… and all the nations shall stream to it” to learn the ways of the God of Israel, and then “nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war any more.”
Then there will be the complete ingathering of the exiles, and then the destiny will also be fully realized: “their burnt offerings and their sacrifices shall be accepted upon My altar, for My house shall be called a house of prayer for all peoples.”
With blessings for a good Shabbat, Nasaf
And this is without even mentioning
that “Mikhael David Avraham” has the numerical value of “the messiah.”
What luck that “Mikhael” still has the yud.
So how are we praying? Our prayers are not just the chirping of a starling; they are falsehood toward Heaven.
Our Rabbi, perhaps because of the glitch you missed the comment. I would be glad for your reply.
And without the yud, “Mikhael David Avraham,” it has the numerical value of “joy” – an acronym for the four principles of faith:
Shulchan Arukh, mikveh, midnight devotion, and hitbodedut
I saw your words and I did not see in them anything that had not already been answered.
c. There is no point in chewing this over again and again. I did not write that halakhically there is no commandment to build a Temple. I wrote only about activism.
d. Building the Temple is a public obligation, and the institution of the public that is supposed to carry it out is called a king (= Jewish government). That is all.
My claim that there is no Jewish public is not connected to the public’s level of fear of Heaven. The question is whether the public conducts itself within the framework of halakhah or not. Even idol worshippers of old rebelled against the Torah and the Holy One, blessed be He. Today nobody is rebelling. The Holy One and the Torah are not even in the game.
As for the order – I referred you to Rav Zoldan’s article. See there.
e. I am not counting secular people; I am looking to see whether there is today a public that conducts itself in a Jewish manner. My answer is no.
I meant that if Mikhael abandons the yud (the Yiddishkeit), then he will in any case no longer be “the messiah” who brings halakhah out of the fog into the light, because there is a limit to how far one can publicize things if one also wants them to be seriously weighed.
As the Rabbi noted, the striving to build a Temple is relevant even to our day when we are speaking of pushing for the building of the Temple in our time. But if I may add, prayer too is based on the sacrifices (we pray “and the additional offerings of this day __ we shall perform and offer,” etc.), and therefore this issue is relevant also to one who chooses the passivity you mention in your conclusion!
The answer that a Sanhedrin established in the future could change the halakhah and the prayer text was fixed by the Men of the Great Assembly.
The absurdity is that today there is no ability to convene a Sanhedrin because there is no Temple, but there is no Temple because none of the rabbis aspire to it. So the result is a religion stuck without progress, and people (perhaps like you) who pray for things they do not believe in – the offering of sacrifices?
Yes, I understood that; that was actually the sting here.
These are the accepted principles, as is known, among Breslov Hasidim, who emphasized the matter of the “yid” more than anyone…
I think one needs to distinguish among 3 parts of the commandment of the Temple –
a. Building the Temple. b. Offering sacrifices. c. Animal sacrifices.
Today the moral reservation is almost entirely only about stage c.
One can use the above arguments – that it is a commandment on the public (which in my opinion definitely exists, but that is a different discussion), that the Temple will descend from heaven, that we will wait for the possibility of changing halakhah – in an almost artificial and very goal-directed way, in order to evade stage c. But there is no reason to do this in order to progress from the current state.
Between the current state and the stage at which human morality (as it now stands) revolts, there is still a very long road. I do not think there is a need to crowd oneself into such tendentious interpretation and action before reaching the crossroads where the plain meaning of halakhah and modern morality part ways.
The Rambam at the end of the laws of Me’ilah writes exactly the opposite of what you say.
People already pointed that out. I confused it with the Guide for the Perplexed.
I would like it not to come, because no one really wants to return to the past.
Would the following quotation be acceptable?
It may be argued that the destruction of the Temple in Jerusalem by Titus in the year 70 CE, following the Jewish revolt, is the most significant factor in the very slow transformation of religion, to which we owe, among other things, European culture. The Jews certainly ought to thank Titus, whose memory is abhorrent to them, for having destroyed their Temple a second time and for having forced them, against their will, to free themselves from sacrifice and its ritual violence before any other society. “Against their will,” because it seems they immediately agreed to Julian’s proposal, the new Cyrus, to rebuild the Temple more than three hundred years after it had been destroyed.
Every time I wonder anew whether, when I peek here on the internet, I am not transgressing “and do not stray after your hearts,” as the first Bi’ur Halakhah wrote, that “after your hearts” means mistaken and false opinions. And the truth is that I have been skipping much more – actually, ever since R. Chaim Kanievsky zt”l passed away, I withdrew from all news of this world, from visual media, audio media, and the written media in newspapers and online. To the point that if I happen to be on a short drive with my wife and she wants to listen to one minute of news, I cannot even bear hearing their voices without the content; it is like someone who quit smoking and cannot stand the smell of a cigarette. And therefore I have not even visited the posts here, not for a blink of an eye (as it is written regarding neglect of Torah study, “Will you make your eyes fly to it, and it is gone?”). In the past I was really addicted to news (and to general knowledge and philosophy), and I knew how to interpret the future better than all the commentators I used to listen to pointlessly. And blessed be God that I was cured of it – believe me, I have never experienced such good and tranquil life. What does a person lack when he can reach a state of being shut up in his house and learning only Torah for 14 hours? (If it is Gemara in depth, there are no words that can describe on this dim platform those feelings.) And work, and connecting in mind and feeling to the service of God, ethics, and character refinement – I know of no happiness, pleasure, and enjoyment in life greater than this. There is so much to accomplish, learn, and know that it is simply a shame for all of us to waste this time. When we arrive above – as it says in the Midrash on Proverbs, about the great test in the Valley of Jehoshaphat, that the Holy One will ask us: “Set forth what you have read”; one who has Scripture but not Mishnah, etc., up to the Account of the Chariot, see there further – truly not pleasant. But now, on Tisha B’Av 5782, when learning is forbidden, I wanted to write some insight to Rabbi Michael regarding providence that I have from the natural sciences, and then I came across the column here and saw the Rabbi’s distinction that right now he does not connect to the sacrificial service, but perhaps in the future, when the Temple is built, he will experience something else. And I remembered that a few days ago I happened to glance (I am currently learning another tractate) at the Gemara in Bava Metzia, in the story the Gemara tells about the difference between the sufferings of R. Elazar son of R. Shimon, called sufferings of love, who could say to them “go away from me” in the morning so they would not disturb his learning, and the sufferings of Rabbi [Yehudah HaNasi], who could not do so because they came through an act and went through an act. What was the act because of which they came upon him? Once, as he was walking, a calf fleeing those who wanted to slaughter it hid in his cloak, and Rabbi said to it, “Go, for this you were created.” And in heaven they saw in this some flaw of cruelty relative to Rabbi’s level, and gave him 13 years of suffering (stones in the urinary tract, to the point that it is described there that Rabbi’s horse-keeper would time the feeding of Rabbi’s many horses, whose neighing could be heard as far as three parasangs away, to the moment Rabbi entered the lavatory, so that his cries of pain would not be heard – and it did not help; the sound of his cries overpowered the sounds of his horses). And then in the course of my learning I thought to myself: if that were to happen to me, given how I know myself, I apparently would pity it. And if it had a young cute face like a puppy or kitten, all the more so I would pet it and perhaps even cry for it. Then I say to myself: are you more merciful than Rabbi? Impossible. If I were now to enter Rabbi’s four cubits, I would be burned from holiness (see there in the Gemara about one of the Amoraim who asked Elijah to show him in a vision [or dream] the state of the holy ones above; Elijah warned him that regarding R. Chiya, he could not at his own level here gaze upon him, but he could not restrain himself and looked, and his eyes were destroyed. In this connection, once the cantor in Brisk got a bit puffed up and asked R. Chaim whether he could sing in King David’s choir. R. Chaim answered him: it is established that if King David were here, we would be burned by holiness, so imagine to yourself “a burned cantor in David’s choir singing” – that is what you could be). Returning to our matter concerning Rabbi: am I greater than Rabbi? Did we not only recently receive some notions of greatness at the funeral of R. Chaim Kanievsky – how far we are from every virtue and trait in every matter, we have no grasp of him at all (whoever wants even nowadays to get a weakness of spirit and know his place, as they say, should go to YouTube and type “Rav Yisrael Shneur” and see what is happening there; I am sure he will receive humility in an overflowing dose that will render all worldly matters, including the discussions here, utterly insignificant). Then I thought to myself that apparently those feelings of mine, supposedly more compassionate than Rabbi, come not from holiness at all but from invalid places and alien spirits that penetrated us because we opened ourselves to what lies outside the study hall. And identifying where they come from is not all that hard; we all know the propaganda of various “animal suffering” organizations that sprang up like mushrooms after the rain, and I do not know whether there is even a kernel of truth in them. The common denominator of all of them is that they and their deeds are like beasts, and they have no concept of the exaltedness of man and his level (and by the way, here is the time and place to strike while the iron is hot: there are five, not four, categories in creation – inanimate, living, vegetative, speaking, and Jew. Perhaps this understanding would make several former posts here unnecessary). Therefore they see themselves as beasts, without distinction between the two, and then it is hard for them – what difference is there between them and animals? And from there comes their abstention, supposedly, from animal products, and not from any exalted humanitarianism whatsoever (it is known of that great sage of the generation who saw the phenomenon in Germany before the Holocaust of concern for animals and applied to them the verse “They who sacrifice men kiss calves” – which is indeed what finally happened). So from there probably comes my own “alien spirit” of supposed compassion. And then, continuing the Gemara there, I received “confirmation” that this is indeed a correct self-diagnosis. Later it is told there what act caused Rabbi’s sufferings to leave him: once Rabbi saw his maid wanting to drive from his house a litter of weasels, and Rabbi said to her, why do you do this? Leave them be; it is written, “And His mercies are over all His works.” Now if it is true that my feelings come from a holy place, how is it that if I were to encounter such a thing in my house, not only would I drive them away to all the winds, but I would vent my fury on them and the like – where did my merciful feelings disappear? (It is explained there in the commentators that the lowliest creature in creation is the weasel, for everything that exists on land exists in the sea, except the weasel, as in the verse “Hear this, inhabitants of the world.”) That means Rabbi’s compassion went much, much farther than my imagined visions, even to the lowliest creature in creation – something I do not have and never will have. (And what did Rabbi originally think with regard to the calf? The commentators also explain there that since for human need it is written that one may pluck a feather from a living creature for a broom or to write with it, Rabbi thought that the calf too was for the need of eating and was permitted. The Maharsha explains that the mistake was that a calf in its youth is meant for labor, not for slaughter; only later, when it grows, is that so. But sending away the litter of weasels was not for any positive use at all, they simply bothered me aesthetically and disgusted me by their existence there. In contrast, Rabbi, at his lofty level of compassion, which I do not possess, said to his maid, “And His mercies are over all His works.”) Therefore I am not impressed by our distance from all matters of sacrifices and the Temple. Do not worry – it testifies to our lowly level, not to any virtue whatsoever. And the Rabbi is right that in the future, if he merits, when the fat covering our loins is removed, we will understand how autistic we were, in the sense of someone deathly ill who does not know he is ill; his state is far worse and more terrible than that of someone who knows he is ill.
In your past you were interested in general knowledge and philosophy, and you also knew how to predict the future better than the commentators; whereas today you are firmly convinced that a Jew is a different kind of person from non-Jews, and you also have pangs of conscience over the evil inclination of compassion for animals that sometimes sneaks into your heart. It sounds like you are moving backward, atonement, like the most outlandish fanatics, and all that remains to you is to struggle to convince yourself (apparently it turns out it is pretty easy to fool you) that you are indeed successful and special. Pathetic.
My comment was intended for the Rabbi and not for Ben Bli…. I ask your forgiveness that you were hurt by the blessing I recited today as yesterday, “who has not made me a gentile” – mere idle chatter?
Hello Rabbi, and thank you.
Forgive me for the length,
but I would like to note the following –
1. Why do you start from the assumption that there is a decisive dependency between the Temple and sacrifices? That is simply not true, in either direction: sacrifices can be offered even without a Temple, and the Temple serves as a spiritual center for other things besides sacrifices (especially the Sanhedrin).
2. Must the quantity of sacrifices *really* be such that the priests are knee-deep in blood? More generally, I feel that one of the impressions accompanying the article throughout is that in the classic / “normal” state of the Temple, the slaughter of animals is carried out as an ideal. That, of course, is not true. Burnt offerings, overall, are not all that numerous, especially if for the moment we set aside individual offerings (which presumably indeed will not occur in the near future). What will remain? Two daily offerings in the morning and evening, plus a few additional offerings on appointed occasions? As for all the other sacrifices, I do not understand – I personally have refrained from eating meat for quite some time, and I think I have more than once influenced people (especially religious ones…) to change their attitude toward vegetarianism. But as long as human beings do still eat meat heartily, what would happen if they did so within a Temple framework as well? Because of a few limbs (the choicest ones) that they would place on the altar, has the act become less moral? On the contrary: in such a case at least the animal went for a higher purpose (or at least we can explain it to ourselves that way…), and not *only* to please our palate. One can, of course, argue that in the Temple the moral level ought to be higher, but it does not seem that this intuition motivates many people.
3. For the idea of something positive coming about through circuitous paths, I found a much more impressive parallel – Jerusalem Talmud (Vilna), Sanhedrin, chapter 1, halakhah 1: “It was taught: Forty years before the Temple was destroyed, capital cases were removed, and in the days of Shimon ben Shetach monetary cases were removed. Rabbi Shimon ben Yohai said: Blessed is the Merciful One, for I am not wise enough to judge.”
4. I find it hard to understand your remarks regarding the public. True, you are a person of philosophical temperament, and for you the commitment to thought is great. But for the ordinary person there is quite a significant distance between the mind and action, and in general most people do not begin troubling themselves to form an opinion about things they see, and not everything they encounter turns into an ethical / logical dilemma for them. Why do you assume there is no public? Most of the public in Israel is neither religious nor secular, but rather “not religious but potentially commandment-observant.” Go and see: a man’s grandmother dies, and he begins keeping Shabbat. So what happened? Did he suddenly become wiser? Did he diligently devote himself to Torah and worship? Or did it simply give him the “push”?
5. Perhaps it is worth noting, simply for the sake of fairness, that in his old age Rav Kook did not reject sacrifices, although he apparently thought that the day would come when they too would cease.
6. Despite all this, I think I must note that I definitely enjoyed the column, and in order to appease my vegetarian feelings I am adding here, with your permission, for the benefit of the readers, a link to your important column on the subject, about indifference and denial – our attitude toward animals (Column 45): https://mikyab.net/posts/2357