The ancient Israelites certainly did. And sometimes, even the best of us can feel that way, right?
Imagine a powerful ruler entering your town, surrounded by criminals in chains. It’d be pretty intimidating! One person whispers, "Wow, that ruler is scary!" But another replies, "If you're loyal, you've got nothing to worry about." That little story, that's how Rabbi Aḥa opens up our exploration of Vayikra Rabbah 9. It perfectly sets the scene.
Vayikra Rabbah, by the way, is a Midrash, a collection of rabbinic teachings, on the Book of Leviticus. And Leviticus? Well, it’s full of details about sacrifices and offerings!
So, picture the Israelites hearing all about these offerings, all these ways to atone for sins… especially the unintentional ones. It must have been terrifying! “Oh no,” they might have thought, “I didn't even know I was doing something wrong!”
But Moses, ever the reassuring leader, tells them not to fear. His advice? Engage in Torah study. Dive into the wisdom, the teachings, and you'll find you have nothing to fear from these offerings. As it says in Leviticus 7:37, "This is the Torah for the burnt offering, for the meal offering, for the sin offering, for the guilt offering, for the investiture offering, and for the peace offering." It’s all right there.
And why is the peace offering, the shelamim, mentioned last in that list?
Rabbi Simon has a wonderful analogy. Think of a delicious dish of mixed fruits and nuts served at the end of a meal. Why last? Because it's got so many different elements, so many flavors all coming together.
The peace offering is similar. It involves so many different parties and components. Blood and fats go to the altar, the breast and thigh to the priest, and the hide and flesh back to the owners. Everyone gets a piece!
Rabbi Shimon takes this idea even further. He says that someone who is shalem, complete or whole, brings a peace offering. But someone in acute mourning – someone whose relative died that very day and hasn’t yet been buried – does not bring a peace offering.
Why? Because they're not shalem, not whole in that moment. They’re understandably consumed by grief. It’s a time for mourning, for processing loss, not for offering sacrifices of peace.
So, what does it all mean? Maybe it's a reminder that engaging with our traditions, studying the Torah, isn’t about fear or guilt. It’s about striving for wholeness, for shalem. It’s about finding our place in the community, and understanding our role in the world. And maybe, just maybe, finding a little peace along the way.