Keep Up The World
Korbanos – Sacrifice – upholds the universe. [- Gemarah] Why might that be??
1. Rashi explains that when people gain atonement they 1. don’t give up even after sinning, and 2. the universe will never load up to lethal levels of sin. Both on a personal and cosmic level, sacrifice keeps things righteous, and clears the slate.
2. One of the kinderlach suggested that the holy intentions people bringing Korbanos have: drawing close to Hashem, doing Tshuvah, religious awakening – these keep the world spiritually afloat.
3. Another child pointed out that Sacrifice is the only DIRECT service we do to Hashem. All Mitzvos fulfill His Will, but don’t service Him directly. A Korban is bringing a present to Him Himself. This is why Korbanos are different than all other mitzvos. Direct service, is different than all others, and upholds the universe.
4. The Rambam explains that Sacrifice is a ‘chok’ – a little understood Mitzvah. Doing such mitzvos display subservience to Hashem, even when we do not understand Him. Doing a Mitzvah that makes no sense to us is truly serving Hashem, because we do only because He said so, not because we see its point!
5. Avraham tied Yitzchak onto the mizbeach, but Hashem stopped that sacrifice. Avraham then sacrificed a ram ‘in place of his son’. Avraham could not bring Yitzchak, and brought something else. Essentially, the two are unconnected. So what does ‘in place of’ mean; is there is any relationship between them? Herein is the essence of korban. Korban means sacrificing oneself on the mizbeach, not in person, perhaps, but via proxy: the animal stands in one’s place. When Avraham brought the ram, it substituted for Yitzchak. (Rabbi Sampson Rephael Hirsch z”l)
The gemarah tells us that the ashes of Yitzchak are piled always in front of Hashem, as if he was actually sacrificed. In a sense he was! Anyone who brings a korban is piled in front of Hashem too, I suppose. Hashem has extra mercy on him. Perhaps this upholds the universe!
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The Name And Nature Of Chatos
The Torah explains that we must slaughter the Chatos ‘in the place of the Olah’, sprinkle its blood ‘upon the Mizbeach of the Olah’, and then we take its insides ‘like we take the insides of the Shlamim’ and offer them upon the Mizbeach. So Chatos is compared with these other offerings. How, indeed, is the Chatos tied to Olah and Shlamim?
Rashi explains that the reason Shlamim is called so is 1. because everyone partakes in it – Hashem, the Kohen and the owner, so all are happy, and 2. because this Korban brings Shalom in the world.
Chatos, a sin-offering, also brings Shalom. That is symbolized by offering the insides on the Mizbeach. And its also a peace-offering, a make up gift, and in that it has parts of an Olah.
How does Chatos bring Shalom? When a person sins, besides the affront to Hashem, besides the spiritual damage caused to the sinner and to the world, there is also a secondary fallout effect. Things are not as they should be. Interrelating parts and pieces of the universe fall out of synchronicity, at loggerheads with their co-parts. The line-up is out of tandem. Chatos straightens out loose ends caused by sin, and brings them back into play with each other. This is the Shalom – shleimus and wholeness – that Chatos brings.
So a Chatos is part Olah, Olah being the prototype of a Reyach Nechoach, a pleasant affair that brings Hashem joy, and also part Shlamim, fixing and bringing wholeness and alignment.
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Not Too Sweet, Nor Too Sour
No chametz is allowed in Minachos because that indicates sourdough is present; no sourdough or honey is allowed. Why not?
Some explain that these two represent the Yetzer HaRa: sin begins terribly sweet, and grows like yeast. We keep these representatives out of our sacrifice, please.
We suggested that honey and yeast represent the sweetest and sourest things possible, the extreme ends of the spectrum. The Torah wants us off extremes, even in sacrifice, and certainly in behavior. The takeaway is: please avoid the acute angle. Indeed, the very fact that its acute hints that its likely wrong. Truth is rarely black and white. Nuance is!
Another thought is that while designating the Mizbeach to be Hashem’s ‘meal’ place, where He ‘eats’ korbanos, we need to keep perspective: Hashem doesn’t enjoy food as we do. He is not physical. Foods people love – sweet things and yeasty stuff – are not allowed on the Mizbeach. Its a small reminder of who we are really dealing with!
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Mincha, Anyone?
Why was the animal or bird Olah incinerated on the mizbeach, but the Mincha Olah given to the Kohanim to eat?
The Baal HaTurim answers that a poor man suffered much embarrassment coming to the bais hamikdash with his tiny offering. He would often stand off to the side, (that’s why it does not say ‘L’fnei Hashem’ by his korban,) and suffer the comparison of his puny offering to Hashem with the fine, dignified, offerings everyone else was bringing. So the torah minimized his discomfort by having his korban brought in the most discreet manner possible – instead of it being publicly sacrificed; it was eaten privately by Aharon and his children.
We suggested another thought; a korban is usually a representative, a virtual person. Perhaps this only applies to an animal which can represent another living being. A mincha, a handful of meal, cannot represent a human being. Instead, it’s a mincha – which translates literally as: a present. Its a souvenir, a token gift. (The presents Yaakov sent Yosef were also a token gift, and called a Mincha as well.) The dynamic is different, and the laws too; an animal representative is brought up wholly, as the person bringing it would wish himself to be totally sacrificed to Hashem. However a mincha can be eaten by kohanim, as befits a present to Hashem.
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Story Time:
The Medrash tells the tale of Chaim the rich man, plotting sin. Suddenly, taking account that his thoughts were improper, he regretted his ideas, and resolved in bringing a korban to the Beis Hamikdash the next day, in repentance. He waltzed into the sanctuary with two doves, as an Olah. The officiating kohen glanced at Chaim’s respectable clothes, and said ‘Sorry Sir, but I cannot bring these for you: these are not your korban!’
Chaim was crushed, and returned home crestfallen. When a neighbor popped in to visit, he saw how sad Chaim looked, and asked what had happened. Chaim told him about the kohen, and what he said to him. The neighbor said ‘Why, of course! You are a most wealthy man; you ought to bring a bull for a korban, not a dove!’ Chaim was taken aback; ‘Really!?’ he exclaimed. ‘A bull, for a mere stray thought? Is sin that serious!? Wow! If so, I resolve to never do it again!’
From that day onward, Chaim changed. All day he kept busy with business as usual, and went to sleep at nightfall like anyone else, but now he would awaken early, while still night outside. He would collect a few friends, and together they would learn until daybreak. Soon, he became so learned, that he was known as ‘Chaim the Other’, for he had completely changed.
Years later, one of the chachamim went to visit him, and found that he had sold his business, giving half the money to tzeddakah, and investing the second half, so to be free to learn all day long. When one takes a korban to heart, there is no telling where he can reach!
Losing the Beis Hamikdash also meant losing our barometer to the seriousness of sin!
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Going For The Glory
The Torah uses the phrase ‘re’ach ni’cho’ach’ – a pleasant scent – by animal Korban, bird Korban and by Mincha. This teaches us that much or a little makes no difference, so long as one intends for the glory of Hashem. (Rashi)
We asked the kinderlach: Can a rich man can get away with a cheap mincha instead of an animal-korban? No, no. This would not be promoting Hashem’s glory at all. On the contrary, he demonstrates in how little esteem he holds Hashem; passing Him off with a cheapo offering.
The moral here, is that from different people different things are expected. What is acceptable for one is not for the other, who may be more talented, and thus more is expected from. Although the talented person accomplishes much, both he and the small fellow are fulfilling their mission to the exact same degree. A twenty-five watt bulb, doing its job, is as upstanding as a hundred watt bulb, if they both do their job. It has a role, and is fulfilling it perfectly. So don’t compare, ok?
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Opening Up
Why tear open the bird korban when sacrificing it. What does opening it do? Does it facilitate better burning on the mizbeach, or somehow advance the korban?
One of the kinderlach suggested that since the pauper brings such a puny korban, we are instructed to make of it the biggest affair that we can, doing things that are unnecessary, overkill. We tear it open along the back to make a to-do, that there be lots of action, in order to honor the contribution of the poor man.
Another consideration is that every animal Olah is dismembered, although all of it is sacrificed. We do not sling the entire cow onto the mizbeach. So too, it makes sense that a bird Olah is opened too. Bird Chatos, however, is not torn open at all…
Why indeed are korbanos dismembering before bring offered on the mizbeach? (Even korbanos such as the chataos that were burned outside the beis hamikdash, were cut up before being burnt.) A few people told me that just as food for ones table is cut up before eating, so too are korbanos butchered and prepared – the mizbeach needs to be genteel too.
Another suggestion is that a korban could not retain its own identity as an animal. Or that it needed to be somewhat of a human creation, not merely nature served up. Therefore it was cut up, to change it into meat.
Any suggestions?
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Mix Your Own Mincha
There are many different types of Mincha – plain flour and oil, fried, sauteed, baked and more. For most minachos there is no specification, rather, one can bring whatever they desire. So what determines what he ought to bring? How does one choose from the menu? On what basis?
Rav Hirsch says that each kind of Miincha represented a different idea, and was apropos to a specific situation.
We suggested that a person ought to bring what he prefers eating. Even if Hashem would eat – which indeed He does not – there is no reason to assume that He would prefer your tastes. And so, as He does not eat anyhow, its all about you, the bringer. And its more meaningful a gift to bring something you personally like.
The kinderlach suggested that the bringer of a mincha would check in with the Beis HaMikdash staff, and ask the kohanim what they preferred for lunch today, or what kind of mincha was in short supply. One chose his mincha based on the kohanim’s need. Sounds nice, doesn’t it?