Parashat Hashavua: Emor
The kehunah, or priesthood, is one of the most ancient features of Jewish life – and perhaps the feature which is most alien to the sensibilities of many contemporary Jews. In a world that emphasizes equality, democracy, and individual merit, the kehunah (priesthood) is a form of inherited religious leadership, tied to a form of sacrificial worship which has long vanished from our lives, and bringing with it both privileges and restrictions that are not shared by other Jews. What can we learn from the persistence of the priesthood – and its special mitzvot – in Jewish life?
While many of the rights and duties of the kohanim (priests) are no longer relevant today, one which is still practiced has its origins in this week’s parasha – Emor. This is the command that priests may not come near the bodies of the dead, except for a very restricted circle of immediate family. In the Torah’s system of ritual purity, the most severe form of impurity is that which comes from contact with a corpse, and the responsibilities of the kohanim (priests) in the sanctuary mean that they should not, except for a very few exceptions, willingly come near the dead. When it comes to the Kohen Gadol (the high priest who represents all of Am Yisrael on Yom Kippur), the restriction is even more extreme: he is forbidden from defiling himself even for his mother and father. While kohanim are not forbidden from performing other aspects of Jewish mourning, the prohibition on contact with the dead means not attending the funerals of dear friends and even many relatives who fall outside of the nuclear family – why would the Torah forbid its priests to say goodbye to those whom they love?
We can gain a deeper appreciation for this mitzvah(commandment) by reflecting on the broader purpose of the system at the center of which the kohanim sit. In his seminal commentaries, the Biblical scholar Jacob Milgrom argued that the underlying goal of the elaborate ritual world of Sefer Vaykira (Leviticus) is to sanctify life and to emphasize that the God of Israel desires life – that God is, in the words of the High Holiday liturgy, melekh chafetz hayim (the King who desires life). To this end, the Torah banishes human death from its sacred space, forcefully condemns the worship of the dead and overindulgence in mourning rituals, and requires of those individuals who are responsible for maintaining the system that they distance themselves from death to the greatest extent that is possible. Even the animal sacrifices that the priests perform, Milgrom argues, should be interpreted in this light, for according to the Torah הַדָּ֖ם ה֣וּא הַנָּ֑פֶשׁ – blood is the essence of life (Devarim 12:23).
Our world is one which is riven by tragedy and violence. While people often flee from these aspects of existence, they also possess a dark mystique that has the power to draw us in – to turn our faces away from the flourishing of this life and towards an unhealthy fascination with death. While the Torah and Rabbinic tradition do not forbid us from mourning our dead, we are forbidden from overindulging in aveilut (mourning practices) in a way that would keep us from living fully in this world. And the kohanim, whom the Torah singles out for an unusual way of life, are called upon to go an extra mile in their devotion to the Elohim Hayim (the God of Life), whose first command to humanity is to be fruitful, to multiply, and to create a world teeming and overflowing with life.
Rabbi Vincent Calabrese
