Parashat Achrei Mot – Kedoshim, Leviticus 16:1-20:27
Haftarah Amos 9:7-15
Dear TBE Community,
There is a term that has gained traction in recent years, a term that lumps together many of the burdens we experience in our lives: “adulting.” It means having to fend for oneself, make a living, do the dishes, run errands, follow through, sit in an office from nine to five—in short, being a responsible human being.
The term is meant to contrast adulthood with the remembered insouciance of childhood, when it seemed that actions did not really have consequences because parents would take care of them. Honestly: I am not fond of the term. Especially because it is usually used by adults, and that to me reveals a strange disconnect between the seriousness of life and the expressed attitude toward it.
And even childhood is not as consequence-free as the term suggests. Even as minors, we must learn that our actions matter, even if we are not yet fully held legally or developmentally accountable.
Much as I struggle with the term, I understand the sentiment behind it: the wish to be rid of responsibility, the fantasy of beginning again from scratch, of dumping all failures and shortcomings onto someone or something else and sending them away, deep into the desert, into the arms of the Azazel-demon, off a cliff.
Such is the logic behind the ritual of the scapegoat, introduced in this week’s parashah as part of the first Yom Kippur the Israelites are commanded to observe:
Aaron shall bring forward the goat designated by lot for GOD, which he is to offer as a purgation offering; while the goat designated by lot for Azazel shall be left standing alive before GOD, to make expiation with it and to send it off to the wilderness for Azazel. (…) Aaron shall lay both his hands upon the head of the live goat and confess over it all the iniquities and transgressions of the Israelites, whatever their sins, putting them on the head of the goat; and it shall be sent off to the wilderness through a designated agent. Thus the goat shall carry on it all their iniquities to an inaccessible region; and the goat shall be set free in the wilderness. (Leviticus 16:9-10; 21-22)
The Torah itself does not elaborate on what happens to the goat. Scholars such as Jacob Milgrom argue that, in the plain meaning of the text, the goat was not pushed off a cliff or otherwise killed, as later Talmudic sages, the Yom Kippur liturgy, and most medieval commentators tend to insist. Rather, it was simply released, carrying away the sins and shortcomings of the Israelites – out of sight, out of mind – and was, in the words of Rashbam left “to graze with the other goats in the wilderness.”
That’s almost cute. The sin-laden scapegoat happily grazing with the other goats. So why did later interpreters shift toward the idea that the goat had to die? Milgrom suggests that perhaps at some point a scapegoat found its way back to civilization—still metaphorically laden with Israel’s sins. Quite a disaster!
Imagine that: all your sins and failures returning to you, like a portrait of Dorian Gray. Understandably, later generations would prefer an interpretation that guaranteed complete disappearance, oblivion!
But even though these passages are the traditional Yom Kippur Torah reading, Judaism today does not let us live that fantasy. Judaism, too, had to “adult”: to accept that we cannot simply blame others for our mistakes and send them away into the wilderness for good. We are called to confront our shortcomings, to face them honestly, to reckon with them before God and before ourselves. And sometimes that work can feel as daunting as facing a desert demon or as standing on the verge of a cliff. But once we have lived up to such a task, how good, how proud can it make us feel. “Adulting” is such a great thing.
Shabbat Shalom!
Rabbi Julia Knobloch