Shnayim Mikra

G-d called to Moshe and gave him instructions about sacrifices. Sacrifices could only be brought from cattle, sheep and goats.

A korban olah (burnt offering) taken from cattle must be a male without any defects. It must be brought voluntarily and the owner would place his hands on the animal's head before handing it over to the kohanim. The animal would be slaughtered and its blood sprinkled on the altar. Then, the animal would be skinned and cut up. The kohanim would arrange the pieces on the altar. (The intestines and legs would have to be washed before placing them on the altar.) A korban olah is burned in entirety; no part of it is eaten.

If one wished to bring a korban olah of a sheep or a goat, it must likewise be a defect-free male and the process is essentially similar.

One could also bring a korban olah from a bird, specifically a pigeon or a dove. (The name "turtle dove" is actually derived not from turtles, but from the Hebrew word "tor," as opposed to a regular dove, which is a "yonah." We'll just stick with the common, if less ornithologically precise, translation of "pigeons and doves.")

In a process called melika, the kohein would slit the bird's throat with an overgrown thumbnail. The blood would be drained, the crop would be discarded into the altar's ash pile, and the bird would be taken by the wings and partially separated. The kohein would then burn it on the altar.

The korban mincha was made from premium wheat flour with oil and frankincense. In a process called kemitza, the kohein would scoop out three fingers' full of the flour, which would then be burned. The rest of the flour then belonged to the kohanim and could be eaten. (All the frankincense would be burned.)

A korban mincha could also be brought from already-baked loaves of bread. They could either be loaves of wheat flour and olive oil or matzas rubbed with olive oil. Flour could also be fried in a pan with olive oil. In any of these cases, the mincha would be broken up into small pieces, then oil would be poured on it.

A mincha could also consist of flour and oil cooked in a pot. No matter how it was prepared, the kohein would first burn the appropriate portion, then the rest would belong to the kohanim. None of the flour offerings were allowed to be leavened or mixed with fruit juice. Dates and other produce are fine as first fruit offerings, but they don't belong on the altar.

Flour offerings also had to be salted, as did animal sacrifices. (From here we derive our custom to dip bread in salt. Ironically, most people do this only on Shabbos but the Mishna Brurah discusses it as a regular part of the meal on weekdays - see MB 167:33.)

A korban mincha was to be brought from one's first grain, as soon as it became ripe on the stalk. This would consist of whole roasted kernels ground into flour, then offered with olive oil and frankincense like other flour offerings.

A korban shlamim ("peace offering") could be brought from either male or female cattle, so long as they were free of imperfections. The owner would place his hands on the animal's head before giving it over to the kohanim for sacrificing. The parts burned included the stomach fat and other intestinal fats, the kidneys and the lobe of the liver. A person could also bring a male or female sheep as a korban shlamim. If he brought a sheep, he would also have to include the fat tail among the parts to be burned.

The internal fats that were burned as part of the korban shlamim are perpetually forbidden to be eaten, in all times and contexts, just like blood. (The forbidden fats are called cheilev in Hebrew; fats that may be eaten are called shuman. See also 7:22.)

There are certain sins for which the penalty is spiritual excision ("kareis") if committed intentionally. If a person committed one of these acts inadvertently, he would bring a sin offering or "korban chatas."

If the High Priest committed such an act, he would have to bring a defect-free young bull as a sacrifice. He would lay his hands upon the animal's head and slaughter it, then sprinkle its blood in the direction of the partition. He would put some blood on the golden incense altar, then pour the rest out at the base of the copper altar. He would remove and burn the same innards and fats as from a korban shlamim (as in the previous aliyah). The rest of the bull would be taken outside the camp and burned in the place where the ashes were disposed.

If the people as a whole committed the requisite kind of an act, having been misled by a bad ruling on the part of the courts, they would also offer a young bull. In this case, the leaders of the people would lay their hands on the animal before it was sacrificed. The procedure is otherwise the same as the korban chatas for the Kohein Gadol.

If the king committed such a sin, he would also bring a korban chatas, except his would be a defect-free male goat. He would place his hands on the goats head and have it slaughtered. The kohein would place blood on the "horns" of the altar, then spill the rest out at the altar's base. The fat would be burned in the same way as it was done for peace offerings.

If just a regular person - not the king, High Priest or the community as a whole - committed an inadvertent sin, his chatas would consist of a defect-free female goat. He would place his hands on the goat's head, the goat would be slaughtered, and the kohein would proceed as he did for the goat of the king.

A regular person could also use a female sheep for his korban chatas. In such a case, he would have to include the fat tail among the portions burned on the altar, the same as with a korban shlamim.

Here's a new scenario. Let's say a person does one of the following things: (1) he took an oath in court to the effect that he had no information, but he lied; (2) he touched something ritually impure, then ate sanctified food or entered a holy area forgetting to first purify himself; (3) he violated an oath he forgot he made. In any of these situations, the offender must admit his wrongdoing and bring a guilt offering, or "korban asham." Unlike other sacrifices, this asham is variable in that the offender can give according to his means. (In Hebrew, it's also called a korban oleh v'yoreid, meaning that its value can go up and down.)

The basic korban oleh v'yoreid is a female sheep, but the person has the option of bringing two birds (pigeons or doves) if he can't afford the sheep. In such a case, one bird would be a chatas (sin offering) and the other would be an olah (burnt offering).

If the two birds pose a financial hardship, the person could bring a flour offering. Because it's being brought as a sin offering, it would not have oil or frankincense placed on it.

Me'ilah is when someone took an item consecrated for use in the Temple (or the Tabernacle) and made personal use of it. If someone did this by accident, he would have to bring a ram for a guilt offering. He would also have to replace whatever he used, adding one-fifth.

Another type of guilt offering was the asham talui, or "conditional guilt offering." This sacrifice was brought when a person wasn't sure if he violated certain laws (the kind that carry the penalty of kareis - excision - if committed intentionally). The asham talui was a ram offered "just in case."

A person sins not only against another person but also against G-d when he acquires property dishonestly, no matter how it came into his possession. Whether a person steals something outright, cheats another in business, refuses to return an object he was watching or denied finding a lost item, he must return the property to its rightful owner and add one-fifth to it. Then, he should bring a ram as a guilt offering.

In case you ever fretted about one's inability to fulfill every mitzvah in the Torah, returning a misappropriated object is a mitzvah one can't fulfill without first acquiring something illegally. Some mitzvos are better off not being necessary.

This week’s haftarah calls our attention to the question of sacrifice, as did the Torah reading. Those who know the book of Isaiah at all are accustomed to his complaining about the Jewish people’s excessive focus on sacrifice, but our selection fits better with the Torah reading, avoiding negativity about sacrifice while drawing our attention to broader underlying concerns.

Sacrifice, Sin, and Substitutes for God

God opens with a complaint about the Jews’ failure to call out to Him, despite His having made them His people. Making it worse, they not only do not call out to God, they do not bring their sacrifices to Him, despite God’s having refrained from imposing excessive burdens of sacrifice upon them. Worse still, as opposed to bringing what they were supposed to, they have “burdened” God with their sins.

The mention of sin leads into two sections (separated by a brief break in the traditional writing of the text, indicating a separation that may yet imply some connection), in both of which the prophet speaks for God in stressing that God is the source of all punishment and forgiveness. In the first, God reminds us that our earlier ancestors sinned towards God (Radak understands that to refer to Ahaz, Hezekiah’s father, who encouraged people to offer sacrifices outside the Temple, which dates this prophecy to the early years of Isaiah’s career and adds a further sacrifice aspect to it), leading God to punish the Jews.

With but a brief pause, God then turns to the opposite tack, stressing the Divine concern for the Jews, the plan to forgive and purify them, bringing about a time when many Jews will return to God and once again assert their fidelity to God and to the traditions of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.

As we try to track the chain of reasoning (so we can know how it all hangs together), we need to remember that Isaiah started with calling out to God, which led to his mentioning sacrifices and the Jews’ failures in that regard. Since much of sacrifice is brought to atone for sin (although not all—this week’s Torah reading also offers examples of freewill offerings, where a person voluntarily decides to offer a sacrifice to God), at least the connection to the complaint about the Jews’ sins and the assertion of God’s being the source of forgiveness makes some sense.

A Disquisition on Idolatry

The haftarah then spends fifteen verses (out of a total of thirty one) complaining about idolatry, especially its inherent contradictions. After three verses about how God, as first and last, is the only source of true forgiveness and/or salvation, the haftarah turns its attention to those who worship idols.

The prophet points out that people ignore the uncomfortable the fact that they are the ones crafting these idols out of ordinary materials and then endowing them with divinity. In the most pungent expression of this idea, Isaiah notes that some people chop wood, use half of it for ordinary house needs, such as fire for heat, and build an idol with the other half.

To perhaps even further stress why this issue is so distressing, the last three verses again return to the theme of our need to pay attention to God, the only real source of either forgiveness or salvation.

So Many Ways to Be Led Away from God

This flow of ideas brings to the fore an important undercurrent of Jewish thought that we ought to notice more fully. The Jews of Isaiah’s time allowed themselves to believe that sacrifices were how they got forgiven by God, as well as how they insured a good future. That error, which Nachmanides stresses in many places, can take several forms, since its basis lies in seeking ultimate security in some source other than God.

In the continuum of religion, one’s focus on sacrifice (or lack of it) is not all that distant from idolatry. One who invests too much in the power of sacrifice is likely to neglect other of God’s concerns, meaning that they are not truly worshiping God, they are using the magic of sacrifice to provide the security they crave.

So, too, one who does not bring sacrifices often enough (such as when s/he has sinned) is losing sight of God as the true and only source of forgiveness. Once God is not the source of forgiveness, the difference among the other sources one can seek to avail oneself of is fairly small, since they all share the crucial (flawed) assumption that forgiving sin is more magical than anything else. Rather than introspection and rectification, forgiveness for such people involves finding the right magic (sacrifice or idols, in this selection) to wipe away the blemish.

Idolatry in Our Time

We may allow ourselves to tune out prophetic discussions of idolatry, believing such practices to be forgotten relics of the past. Whether or not that is true (there are, in the Western world today, many who have become attracted to ancient pagan practices, such as feng shui), the haftarah takes the discussion in a direction that is unequivocally relevant today. As opposed to limiting idolatry to the problem of believing in a deity or power other than God (although it would be interesting to consider whether believing in Nature to the exclusion of God is a form of idolatry), Isaiah is also bothered by people’s trusting their own creations more than God.

That suggests that our haftarah is warning us that people tend to get too caught up in seeking security in ways they can control, such as idols or (to put it in relevant contemporary terms) money. The only real security, however, lies with God, just like the only real forgiveness lies in using korbanot (or, in their forced absence, prayer) as a way to fully repent our sins and return to God.