What does it mean to “be without blemish?”
בְּשָׁעָה שֶׁיָּצְאוּ יִשְׂרָאֵל מִמִּצְרַיִם הָיוּ כָּל רֻבָּן בַּעֲלֵי מוּמִין, לָמָּה מִפְּנֵי שֶׁהָיוּ יְגֵעִים בַּטִּיט וּבַלְּבֵנִים וְעוֹלִים לְרֹאשׁ הַבִּנְיָן וּמִי שֶׁהוּא בּוֹנֶה עַל יְדֵי שֶׁהָיוּ עוֹלִין לְרָאשֵׁי הַדָּמוֹסִין, אוֹ הָאֶבֶן נוֹפֶלֶת וְקוֹטַעַת יָדוֹ, אוֹ הַקּוֹרָה אוֹ הַטִּיט נִכְנָס בְּעֵינָיו וְהוּא נִסְמָא. וְהָיוּ בַּעֲלֵי מוּמִין.
When the Israelites left Egypt, all were blemished, because they labored with clay and bricks and ascended to the top of the building. And whoever was a builder would ascend on ladders made of those bricks. Either a stone would fall and cut his hand, or a beam or a piece of clay would enter his eye and blind him. They were all blemished. (BaMidbar Rabbah 7.1)
This week in our Triennial Cycle minhag (“custom”) of Torah study, we begin the parashat hashavua here:
אִ֣ישׁ אִישׁ֩ מִבֵּ֨ית יִשְׂרָאֵ֜ל וּמִן־הַגֵּ֣ר בְּיִשְׂרָאֵ֗ל אֲשֶׁ֨ר יַקְרִ֤יב קׇרְבָּנוֹ֙ לְכׇל־נִדְרֵיהֶם֙ וּלְכׇל־נִדְבוֹתָ֔ם אֲשֶׁר־יַקְרִ֥יבוּ לה’ לְעֹלָֽה לִֽרְצֹנְכֶ֑ם תָּמִ֣ים זָכָ֔ר בַּבָּקָ֕ר בַּכְּשָׂבִ֖ים וּבָֽעִזִּֽים
When any person of the house of Israel or of the strangers in Israel presents a burnt offering as the offering for any vow or any freewill offering that they offer to ‘ה, it must, to be acceptable in your favor, be a zakhar tamim [“a male without blemish”], from cattle or sheep or goats (Lev. 22.18-19)
Earlier in the parashah, Levites with blemishes are similarly (not identically, however) disqualified from serving as priests. What can we moderns do when confronted with this teaching, other than disavow it as out of touch with our understanding of the equal worth of all human beings?
In our Torah-centered community, for example, we are dedicated to the mitzvah of equal access for all who seek to learn Torah. In order to actualize that goal, we’ve made attending Torah study free of charge, and we’ve made sure that all our community gatherings are on the first floor of the Eastside Jewish Commons. We use microphones to amplify voices and provide a link for those who access best by screen.
What can we learn from this Torah? First, we must remember the basic tenet that every word of Torah is capable of teaching us – sometimes we just can’t see it right away. If our human instinct is to refuse to leave anyone out who wishes to participate, then we must also extend that expectation to the words of Torah themselves: if we reject the idea of blemished people being unable to serve, then let us begin to examine this disturbing Torah from the perspective that no word of Torah is so blemished that it cannot be offered in the sacred service of Torah learning.
What might be the deeper understandings, beyond the surface peshat, of this idea that each of us who wishes to come close to HaShem must be zakhar tamim?
Zakhar: this word is translated both as “male” and as “memory.” Were men expected to be storytellers, preserving the identity of the community through transmitting its history? Or are the two words merely homonyms, spelled the same but entirely different in meaning? If you know my teachings at all you’ve heard me suggest that what is required of us is not to bring all our males before HaShem in order to be acceptable, but to bring our memory, our history, our tradition, with us when we encounter HaShem.
Tamim: I noted that the comparison to sacrifices is not exact. The word tamim does not apply to the priests as it does to the animals. So: Torah does not expect that we sacrifice ourselves to HaShem; it uses the word tamim to mean something else when applied to human beings. If we compare to other usages in Torah, we see this:
אֵ֚לֶּה תּוֹלְדֹ֣ת נֹ֔חַ נֹ֗חַ אִ֥ישׁ צַדִּ֛יק תָּמִ֥ים הָיָ֖ה בְּדֹֽרֹתָ֑יו אֶת־הָֽאֱלֹהִ֖ים הִֽתְהַלֶּךְ־נֹֽחַ׃
This is the line of Noah.—Noah was a righteous man; he was blameless in his age; Noah walked with HaShem (Gen. 6.9)
וַיְהִ֣י אַבְרָ֔ם בֶּן־תִּשְׁעִ֥ים שָׁנָ֖ה וְתֵ֣שַׁע שָׁנִ֑ים וַיֵּרָ֨א יְהוָ֜ה אֶל־אַבְרָ֗ם וַיֹּ֤אמֶר אֵלָיו֙ אֲנִי־אֵ֣ל שַׁדַּ֔י הִתְהַלֵּ֥ךְ לְפָנַ֖י וֶהְיֵ֥ה תָמִֽים׃
When Abram was ninety-nine years old, ‘ה appeared to Abram and said to him, “I am El Shaddai. Walk in My ways and be blameless (Gen. 17.1)
תָּמִ֣ים תִּֽהְיֶ֔ה עִ֖ם ה’ אֱלֹהֶֽיךָ
You must be wholehearted with your God ‘ה (Deut. 18.13)
As the sages point out, Noah, described as “blameless in his age” was certainly not perfect – his age was so wicked that it brought about the destruction of the world. Abram is similarly a human being, and not perfect – even if we hold him up as our exemplar, the final use of the term makes it clear: we, all of us imperfect beings, are all to be tamim with HaShem, which in context here means loyal to HaShem only. To be “whole- hearted” is to be spiritually whole.
It is worth considering that among the deeper meanings of this teaching is this: that just as in the case of tzara’at, a visible blemish is an opportunity to learn by way of symbolism. Tamim in this way of understanding refers to spiritual wholeness, complete trust, and that rarest of modern qualities, a personal sense of integrity.
If we are to approach HaShem, then, the Torah may be hinting to us, we need to be zakhar tamim, fully aware of our place and responsibility within the vast Memory of our people, and in possession of a personal sense of peace and wholeness within us.
May our kehillah kedoshah always do all we can to make that wholeness and that belonging as accessible as we can possibly can for each other, so that we can fulfill the mitzvah of standing before HaShem as we are meant to: together, aware, and whole.
בְּשָׁעָה שֶׁיָּצְאוּ יִשְׂרָאֵל מִמִּצְרַיִם הָיוּ כָּל רֻבָּן בַּעֲלֵי מוּמִין, לָמָּה מִפְּנֵי שֶׁהָיוּ יְגֵעִים בַּטִּיט וּבַלְּבֵנִים וְעוֹלִים לְרֹאשׁ הַבִּנְיָן וּמִי שֶׁהוּא בּוֹנֶה עַל יְדֵי שֶׁהָיוּ עוֹלִין לְרָאשֵׁי הַדָּמוֹסִין, אוֹ הָאֶבֶן נוֹפֶלֶת וְקוֹטַעַת יָדוֹ, אוֹ הַקּוֹרָה אוֹ הַטִּיט נִכְנָס בְּעֵינָיו וְהוּא נִסְמָא. וְהָיוּ בַּעֲלֵי מוּמִין.
When the Israelites left Egypt, all were blemished, because they labored with clay and bricks and ascended to the top of the building. And whoever was a builder would ascend on ladders made of those bricks. Either a stone would fall and cut his hand, or a beam or a piece of clay would enter his eye and blind him. They were all blemished. – BaMidbar Rabbah 7.1
Torah for the 21st Century by Rabbi Ariel Stone 