What Does Aaron Teach Us About Loss?
Understanding The Human Side Of Aaron The High Priest
Rabbi David Fohrman
Founder and Lead Scholar
What do we know about the inner emotional experience of Aaron the High Priest? Of Eleazar and Ithamar, Aaron's two younger sons, also Priests?
In this week's video, Rabbi Fohrman tackles a very strange scene: after the sudden death of Nadab and Abihu, Aaron's two sons, Moses gets in a disagreement with Aaron's other two sons about a sacrifice they should have brought. What was this argument fundamentally about?
This lesser known story of Aaron, Eleazar, and Ithamar gives us a peek into how the family dealt with their sudden loss. Was the sacrifice mix-up by Eleazar and Ithamar an intentional or accidental transgression? An even bigger question is: Why didn't they die for it, like their dearly departed brothers?
By looking closer at the argument between Aaron and Moses, we get a rare glimpse at the human emotional side of Aaron, Eleazar, and Ithamar, behind their ritual obligations as Priests. By following the story of Aaron, Eleazar, and Ithamar, we find a poignant message about about overcoming loss.
Hi everybody, this is Rabbi David Fohrman and welcome to Parshat Shemini. You are watching Aleph Beta. This video is dedicated in blessed memory of [Glynnis Sher 0:11:00], Gittel Bas Eliyahu, by her loving son [Danny], her daughter-in-law [Jenny], and her grandchildren [Joshua, Cassie and Leo]. Thank you so much for your generosity.
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This week's Parsha contains the famous story of the deaths of the two sons of Aaron, Nadav and Avihu, during the consecration of the Tabernacle procedure. When they bring incense in a way that wasn't commanded, a fire comes out from the Kodesh Kedoshim, from the Holy of Holies, consuming them, and they die. The tragic moment, much ink has been spilled in trying to understand it, we took a stab at this in last year's video on Parshat Shemini, I encourage you to take a look.
But right now I'd like to focus with you on a very obscure story that takes place right afterwards, the story doesn't get a lot of press because it is so obscure, but here's what happens.
The Lesser Known Bible Story of Aaron, Eleazar, and IthamarRight after the deaths of Nadav and Avihu evidently there was a Chatat – a sin offering – that was to be brought in the Tabernacle and a dispute erupts between, of all people, Moses and the two surviving sons of Aaron.
The dispute concerns how it was that the Chatat was offered. Moses says that it wasn't offered properly and Aaron comes to their defense and says that it really was, and they talk about just these really arcane laws and you're thinking, why is it that they're even discussing this? I mean there was this terrible tragedy, their brothers have just died and now we're getting into whether they messed up and exactly how it is that they offered the Chatat, whether they ate the meat, they didn't eat the meat? Who even cares about this? Also, the placement of the story seems so strange. The brothers of these people have died, now you're arguing with them over whether a Chatat was eaten properly? Why are we debating sacrificial law now?
But I think if you look carefully at the story, that's actually what the story is about, it's about what it means to struggle with the death of your brothers. Let me explain what I mean here, and in order to do that I really need to take you back to a paradigm that I introduced to you back in Parshat Vayikra, as to how to understand three basic types of offerings; an Olah, a Shlamim and a Chatat.
Studying the Backstory to Understand Aaron's ReactionThe Chatat is the sin offering, what we're talking about over here in our little story involving Aaron and his children and Moses. In order to really understand what was happening with that Chatat and what the significance of eating that Chatat is, I want to contrast it for you with an Olah offering, and this was really the argument that I made to you back in Parshat Vayikra. That when you look at an Olah, an offering that goes entirely up to G-d and you look at a Chatat, an offering that part of its meat is consumed by the Kohanim, these two offerings, the Olah and the Chatat, are actually sort of inverses of each other.
Let's talk about the tension between an Olah and a Chatat. So the argument I made to you back in Vayikra, is that in order to understand a Chatat, you sort of have to go back to the first great sin of humanity, the eating of forbidden fruit. G-d had given a world of paradise to humanity, all these trees, but instead we didn't go for any of the trees that we were permitted to eat from, the only thing that made a difference for us was the one tree we couldn't have. You see the tree of knowledge of good and evil was the master's tree and the desire to eat from it on some level was the desire to play god, to pretend that I could have the master's one tree, that I could play master of the garden.
That was the first transgression, the first thing that was off-limits to mankind. Later on when the Torah is given, the Torah introduces other things that are off-limits, but by extension in every one of these negative commandments, there's a little bit of the tree of knowledge of good and evil. There's a sense that by honoring those commands, we're honoring G-d's sovereignty, we're acknowledging that this world that we have is a gift from G-d, and therefore we honor the restrictions that He places upon us. It's the least we can do to show that we understand that we're guests in this great garden that G-d has given us, in this world that G-d has given us.
So what happens then when you inadvertently transgress one of these negative commands? When you've done this you've engaged in a kind of sin, an imbalance has been introduced into your relationship with G-d. And, with a sin offering you try symbolically at least to correct that imbalance, to re-balance the scale, with a curious kind of reciprocity. Going back to that paradigmatic Garden of Eden sin, you ate from something that was out of bounds, that was in G-d's world, so you give something back to G-d to be eaten. Now obviously G-d doesn't have a mouth to eat something but that's what the Kohanim are there for, G-d gives the Kohanim this meat from the Chatat offering, and says, you have this on behalf of Me, and it will bring balance back to this relationship again.
So if that's what a Chatat is, what is an Olah, the inverse of a Chatat? If the impetus for a Chatat is that I crossed over illegitimately, so to speak, into G-d's domain and there was one special thing for G-d and I took that one special thing, then the impetus for an Olah, is that in my domain there's one special thing, the thing that is most mine, and I just feel like I have to abandon that, I have to abandon everything and just give it to G-d, just voluntarily. Because there really is no domain that's mine, everything is G-d's.
Back in Parshat Vayikra we talked about the Akeidah – the Binding of Isaac – as the great paradigm for Olahs. What's the one special thing you have, it's your child, and Abraham was ready to give back his child. G-d didn't take it, but that was the sense of abandonment. Atah yadati ki yareh Elokim atah – the angel says; now I know that you're someone who is in awe of G-d. That's what awe is, just a feeling of complete abandonment, nothing is mine, even the thing that appears to be most mine, I give everything to You.
So now let's come back to our story. Does this remind you of anything?
They had given everything – that which was most theirs, their own kin, they had watched G-d take that. Vayidom Aharon – and Aharon had been silent. How could he accept it? It's an outrage. How could You do this, how could You take them, they were just trying to come close to You? But in his silence, Aaron had touched that energy, that energy of awe, that energy of abandonment. Abraham in one of the very first Olahs that the Torah ever records had been asked to give the thing that was most his, his child, back to G-d, but at the last moment G-d had said, no. But here at the last moment G-d didn't say no, G-d took that one thing from Aaron, his children, and Aaron had been silent and accepted it, it was the abandonment energy of the Olah.
Why Did Moses Fight with the Priests Aaron, Eleazar, and Ithamar?Now let's go to the text and read this little dispute here, just after the deaths of Nadav and Avihu. A Chatat is offered in the Mishkan, on behalf of the entire community, but it wasn't offered properly. V'et se'ir hachatat darosh darash Moshe – Moshe enquired after this Chatat and found – v'hinei soraf – it was entirely burned, as if it were an Olah.
Vayiktzof al Elazar v'al Itamar benei Aharon – and he became angry at Elazar and Itamar the surviving sons of Aharon. He said to them; Maduah loh achaltem et hachatat – why didn't you eat the Chatat? Ki kadosh kedoshim hi – it's the holiest of the holies; V'otah natan lachem laseit et avon ha'eidah – the meat of the Chatat is given to you in order to attain atonement for the people.
Moses is making the point about how a Chatat works. People are giving something to G-d, so to speak, to eat, it becomes Kadosh Kedoshim, it becomes taken in by G-d's domain, it's the Holiest of the Holies. Then the Kohanim, they eat the meat to complete the circle, to affect atonement. What's the role of the Kohanim here? They're being called upon to take something and in so doing, they restore the boundaries of the Divine Estate. Those boundaries had been violated in a sin, with the eating of a Chatat the circle is closed and the boundary is restored. The ones who illegitimately ate from something which should have been G-d's, have now given something back for G-d, so to speak, to eat, and the Kohanim do their part to restore that boundary.
But what had these Kohanim, Elazar and Itamar, they had lived through the completely opposite energy of a Chatat, the energy of an Olah.
Understanding the Loss of Aaron, Eleazar, and IthamarThey ended up treating this offering, this Chatat, not as a Chatat, but allowing it to be entirely consumed as if it were an Olah. They didn't eat the meat, they felt they couldn't take it on behalf of G-d somehow. Yes, they were Kohanim but they were also human beings, and as a human, as a private, individual citizen what had they just lived through? Utter loss, utter abandonment, no boundaries whatsoever. If you're Aaron, grappling with the unspeakable loss, you say to yourself, boundaries? The very word is an outrage, there are no boundaries. I am nothing, I can take nothing, everything has been taken from me, all I can do is to stand still and allow that to happen.
That's the energy of an Olah. That's what they had gone through. That's Aaron's response to Moses. Today the Chatat was brought, he said; Vatikrenah oti ka'eileh – but look what has befallen me, the loss of my children. V'achalti chatat hayom – and on that day would I eat a Chatat on behalf of G-d? Hayitav b'einei Hashem – do you think G-d would find that pleasing? How could I take even on behalf of G-d – how could I assert boundaries even on behalf of G-d, when I have nothing left to give, when everything has been taken from me? When I feel that there's just no boundaries left, there's no boundary that I can assert.