Our journey starts in the book of Sifrei Devarim, which lays out some pretty specific rules about where and how sacrifices should be made. But here's the twist: it wasn’t always so clear-cut.
Before the mishkan, the portable sanctuary, landed in Shiloh, the bamoth were permitted. What are bamoth, you ask? They’re best understood as "high places," essentially local altars where people could offer sacrifices. Think of them as decentralized places of worship, scattered across the land. As the text says, “Before they came to Shiloh, the bamoth were permitted." Simple enough. But then everything changed. Once the mishkan, the Tabernacle, found its home in Shiloh, these local altars became forbidden. Centralization was the name of the game. It was all about unifying worship in one designated spot.
And just when you think you've got it figured out, the story takes another turn! The mishkan moved again, this time to Nov and Giveon. And guess what? The bamoth were permitted once more! It's like the rules kept changing along with the location of the central sanctuary.
Finally, we arrive at Jerusalem. This is where things get permanent. With the establishment of the Temple in Jerusalem, the bamoth were forbidden, “and not permitted again.” This time, the rule stuck. The Temple became the singular, exclusive place for sacrifice. The text emphasizes this permanence with the verse "You shall not do as all that we do here today.” It's like saying, "This is how we do things NOW, and it's not going back!"
So, what’s the reasoning behind all this back-and-forth?
Sifrei Devarim offers a clue: "Today, bamoth are forbidden to us. When we come to Eretz Yisrael, the Land of Israel, we do not move the mishkan and bamoth are permitted to us.” The idea seems to be about stability and permanence in the promised land. Once settled, the central sanctuary remains fixed, and local altars are no longer needed or allowed.
But here's another interesting perspective, offered by Rabbi Yehudah. He clarifies that even when bamoth were permitted, there was a distinction between individual and communal sacrifice. "I might think that the congregation sacrificed on a bamah; it is, therefore, written 'a man, all that is fitting in his eyes' — An individual sacrifices on a bamah, but not the congregation.” In other words, even during the periods when local altars were allowed, they were primarily for personal offerings, not large-scale communal rituals.
What does this all mean? It’s a reminder that religious practice isn't always static. It evolves with circumstances, reflecting the changing needs and aspirations of a community. The story of the bamoth shows us a dynamic relationship between centralized authority and local expression, between the universal and the individual, in the spiritual life of ancient Israel. It makes you wonder, doesn't it, how our own traditions have shifted and adapted over time, and what that says about us today?