Sinners Cause Cosmic Consequences
It is no secret that many liberals and progressives are permissive regarding biblical proscriptions. This is especially true in the case of the recent weekly Torah portions in which a wide variety of intimate relationships are forbidden but are viewed in many sectors of modern society as archaic and no longer relevant.
This week, we combine two weekly readings, Acharei Mot and Kedoshim (Leviticus 16:1-20:27). Toward the very end of this dual and, therefore, quite lengthy parsha, we encounter a forbidden behavior which even the most lenient progressive ethicist would not permit. Indeed, he would find it unforgiveable and even heinous.
I am referring to the primitive mode of worship which involved sacrificing one’s children to the pagan deity known as Molekh. I am quite certain that even in current permissive times, there is a universal consensus that casting one’s own children upon the fiery altars of some reprehensible, and incomprehensible, “god” would be condemned as abhorrent, evil, and intolerable.
Let us examine the text of the passage describing the prohibition against “worshipping” Molekh and the punishment for doing so. I will italicize selected phrases which have special import. The entire text appears in Leviticus 20:1-5:
The Lord spoke to Moshe: “Tell the Israelites: Any person—any one among the Israelites—or among the strangers residing in Israel—who sacrifices any of his children to Molekh shall be put to death. The people of the land shall stone him, and I Myself will set My face against that person; I will sever him from his people because, in sacrificing his children to Molekh, he defiles My Mikdash; he desecrates My holy name. If the people of the land should shut their eyes to that man as he sacrifices his children to Molekh—if they do not put him to death … I will sever him from his people…”
Rabbi Moshe ben Nachman, Ramban, has much to say about this entire passage. For one thing, he quotes his famous predecessor, Rashi, in translating the word Mikdash in the text above. That word is often translated as “sanctuary,” implying that the Molekh worshipper has somehow defiled the Mishkan, Tabernacle, or perhaps the Beit HaMikdash, Holy Temple.
But does an idolatrous act practiced elsewhere defile the Sanctuary? Definitely not!
Therefore, both Rashi and Ramban insist that in this case, Mikdash refers to the Almighty’s holy people, Knesset Yisrael, the Community of Israel. Of all the titles that are applied to the Jewish people, I firmly believe that Knesset Yisrael is the most inclusive of all.
Ramban notes that the Molekh worshipper defiles not just himself and those who emulate his horrendous mode of worship but somehow defiles us all! This, continues Ramban, is also stressed in our text which repetitively refers to “the people of the land,” asserting that in some manner, all the people of the land, the am Haaretz, are affected by one person’s sin and must act in unison to rid themselves of the Molekh worshipper.
Ramban takes this as an indication of the power of the individual to corrupt others, whether those others are close friends or family of the idolator or are total strangers dwelling in far-flung corners of the planet, thousands of miles away.
Ramban extends his message of the power of one individual to affect others to claim that he can even affect the cosmos itself. The sinner causes cosmic consequences.
To broaden his case, Ramban reminds us of another “prohibition,” much less severe than casting one’s offspring into the furnaces of Molekh, but one which is much more commonly violated. He alludes to a passage in the Babylonian Talmud, Tractate Berakhot 35b. It reads in part:
He who derives pleasure from this world and does not recite the appropriate blessing beforehand has “stolen” from the Holy One Blessed Be He and from Knesset Yisrael,” the “Community of Israel” … He is a “colleague” of the evil king Jeroboam ben Nevat, who sinned and caused many others to sin as well.
Ramban offers this passage as a parallel to our Molekh worshipper. He acted alone, and his dastardly act affected the entire world community of Israel. So too did the person who neglectfully failed to recite the blessing “… borei pri ha’adama” impact all of Israel.
How can one equate overlooking a beracha with sacrificing his own offspring?
In response, Ramban eloquently explains, and I paraphrase:
The Almighty’s purpose in Creation was to have mankind express blessing to His great name and thereby contribute to the maintenance of the Universe. And if we fail to do so, the Shechina, God’s presence, will abandon us. If this is true of one who neglects to recite a beracha, a relatively minor infraction, then it is certainly true of one who sacrifices his “fruit” to Molekh. Such a vile individual blasphemes the “pride of Jacob” and His dwelling place.”
Ramban, as he often does, concludes this powerful teaching with reference to Kabbalistic sources which convey this message: Individuals influence others, even the entire human race, and in some mystical sense even the cosmos itself.
Many will find these exceptional teachings difficult to accept. But they reflect a basic teaching: “One should say to himself: the world was created for me,” (Talmud Bavli Sanhedrin 37a) Is that a prescription for grandiosity and arrogance? The answer is, “No!” Rather, it is advice that we all must take to heart.
Each of us as individuals, no matter our status, no matter our material means or our intellectual capacities, has the ability to influence others. We can do so intentionally, by serving as models of proper behavior for others to emulate. Or we can act neglectfully, or knowingly, in ways which are, if not reprehensible like the Molekh worshipper, are missed opportunities to inspire other people to recognize the Master of the Universe, His omnipotence and omniscience, and His charge to all of us to “turn away from evil and do good.”
The sinner may cause cosmic consequences, yes. But each one of us, as individuals, can cause compassion and kindness, helpfulness and sensitivity, unity and friendship, and a world at peace.