This week's Torah portion is called Shemini (Leviticus 9.1 - 11.47), and it's one of those strange ones that people puzzle over a lot. Most of it is what you might call "legalese," and not terribly entertaining (more about that in a minute) but suddenly in the middle, we have a mysterious high drama.
The parasha starts out with a detailed description of the ritual sacrifice, including the duties of Aaron, the High Priest, and those of his sons, and this section ends with the children of Israel being rewarded for their diligence when "the glory of the Lord appeared to all the people."
But then a terrible thing happens. Two of Aaron's sons, Nadab and Abihu, make an offering of "strange fire," something apparently out of the ordinary that had not been included in their specific instructions. And they're immediately burnt to a cinder. Now it's not clear what, if anything, they did wrong, but there is perhaps a clue in the nature of the rest of the parasha. After describing the rather circumscribed mourning process that follows the deaths of these two men, the text returns to its careful description of sacrificial rites. And then it goes on to describe, in minute detail, the dietary requirements to which Jews are expected to adhere. If you have any questions about what is or is not permitted under the laws of kashrut, you can find them here.
There are no end of hypotheses about the social, medical and theological foundations of the strict rules that govern what is and is not "kosher," but some say that all of these discussions are just so much hot air. The halacha (Jewish law) has no "rationale," according to this view, and isn't meant to be "understood." It's only meant to be obeyed, without question, deviation or innovation. And so, in the midst of a rather dry recitation of The Law, we find this story of two men, sons of the High Priest, no less, who took it upon themselves to get a little creative in their devotion and paid the ultimate price.
To me, this story says a lot about the circular roots of fundamentalism, and the chasm that yawns between those whose lives are guided by such principles and those who consider them from a distance. For those of us who believe that each person must find his or her own path to God, that sincere efforts tend to lead in that direction and that there is no single "right way," the dogmatism expressed in this week's Torah portion is unpalatable. But for those who strive to live the words of this Torah (or the New Testament or the Koran) in their day-to-day lives, the text simply points out the ultimate error and vanity of such "open" thinking.
The struggle to develop a democratic society in which both of these views can co-exist side by side is indeed a daunting one. Something of which I am reminded this week, as the State of Israel continues in that struggle along with the others that make for more dramatic headlines.
Shabbat Shalom.
