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Menachem's Writings The Place of the Holy Beth haMikdash Today This week* the Samaritans (Shomronim in Hebrew or Kuthim in the Mishna) celebrate Pesaḥ, Passover. The Samaritans keep the laws of the Tora explicitly, without any reference to our Oral Law, the Talmud, the Mishnah and Gemara. As they intercalate independently, and are not restricted as to the day of the week on which a festivals falls, there is sometimes a disparity between their dates and ours. Another important difference between the Samaritans and us is that, in addition to not accepting the Oral Law, they only possess the Tora plus a version of the book of Y'hoshua which is quite different to our masoretic text. As such they have no tradition of the Beth haMikdash in Yerushalayim. Yerushalayim is only chosen as the place of haShem's presence in our world in the Books of Sh'muel, revealed to King David. Whenever the Tora refers to the holy service, it is always "the place which haShem will select". Considering that the Tora was given in the Sinai desert and on the plains of Moav, before the entry of the Descendants of Israel into western Israel, this is not unreasonable. No-one remembered the geography of the Promised Land, so specifying a particular place would be meaningless. An amazing, though little known fact, is that when the Israelites crossed over the Jordan River, near Y'riḥo, their first action was not the conquest of that city, though they did do that soon enough. Instead, the entire nation travelled westward, from the Jordan Valley into the Samarian mountains, to the twin peaks of Eval and Gerizim, the mountains of the Curses and Blessings respectively**. The tribes were commanded to assemble at this location into two groups. One congregation stood on Har G'rizim and the other on the facing Har Eval. In the valley in between (today the city of Sh'khem, Nablus in Arabic), stood the cohanim, reciting blessings and curses. As each blessing or curse was announced, the people answered Amen in unison. Interestingly the Tora names these mountains and provides data as to their location. They are visible from Moav where the command was given. At this time, Y'hoshua built an altar and sacrificed to haShem on Har Eval. By this act, claim the Samaritans, Y'hoshua revealed haShem's choice for the location of His House. The Samaritans' tradition of this episode relates the building of Yehoshua's altar on Har G'rizim. Why the change? I can only assume they considered it inappropriate for the House of haShem to be built on the cursed mountain. For reasons which I shall not detail here, it is actually more likely that Har G'rizim is the mountain we today call Har Kabir, opposite the altar on Eval. The town of Alon Moreh is located here. I asked the Samaritans why today they do not rebuild their Beth haMikdash on Har Gerizim. The political problems we face over our site in Yerushalayim does not apply to them. They retorted, "While we were once a nation of over a million souls, today we number less than eight hundred. We need to build up our population before we could undertake such a far-reaching project". I think that rebuilding would provide them a focus they now lack and afford them a rallying point. The Tora teaches us diverse sacrifices. Broadly speaking, one aspect differentiating these is who eats from the offering. At the highest level, Olah, only the altar benefits, namely the entire animal is burnt. The next level provides food, in addition to the altar, for the cohanim. Other offerings provide for the altar, the cohanim and the owners, those who bring the animal. The Pascal sacrifice falls into a category called Sh'lamim, from the Hebrew root for both peace and whole. The implication is that, as many people together benefit from the offering, peace is brought into the world. Once a year, each Jew (and Samaritan) is commanded by the Tora to join a family group and offer a lamb or kid, in commemoration of the events preceding our leaving bondage in Egypt. As in Egypt, each group ends the commemoration partaking of the meat, with matza and maror. According to our Talmudic tradition and also to that of the Samaritans, the Beth haMikdash needs to be standing in order for altar offerings to be made. And no sacrifice may be performed outside the Beth haMikdash. The only exception is the Pascal Lamb. We do not need the built Beth haMikdash, merely the location of the altar. We may build a temporary earthen structure for the purpose. And we know where our altar stood. The reason we do not carry out this part of Passover today is purely political. The site of the Samaritan temple does not engender similar emotions or politics. And they do perform the annual Pesaḥ rite. Many of us eagerly await the return, speedily in our days, to again sacrifice, first the Pascal Lamb, and soon after, with the rebuilding of our Beth haMikdash, all the other rituals which were performed there. The Rambam in his Yad Ḥazaka, enumerates the biblical commandments which apply to all times. He includes all of the Beth haMikdash Service. Many of our prayers, especially the musaf supplications, focus on this reinstitution. "Our God, the God of our fathers, oh merciful King ... build our House [Beth haMikdash] as it was at first ... return the cohanim to their work ... where we will sacrifice with love." Three times a day, we beseech haShem to "rebuild the Beth haMikdash speedily in our days ... and there we will carry out the Beth haMikdash service, in fear, as in days of old." Sadly, today it appears that most of our Jews do not care about rebuilding our Beth haMikdash in Yerushalayim nor about restoring animal sacrifices. Especially not restoring animal sacrifice! Why? Let us first examine the sacrificial process. A person who inadvertently commits a sin, or someone who wants to thank haShem for His goodness [there are other cases] selects an animal which he explicitly dedicates. The beast must be of high quality, without blemish. The owner brings it to Yerushalayim, to the Beth haMikdash compound. Four acts are common to every type of sacrifice. The animal is slaughtered according to specific rules, designed to cause the animal minimal discomfort. This may be done either by the owner or by one of the cohanim. The next three steps must be carried out by cohanim. A side-effect of the slaughter process is that blood quickly exits the animal's jugular. A cohen catches some of this into a bowl, which he carries to the mizbe'aḥ, the outdoor altar. When close enough to the altar, he sprinkles some blood onto it. This sprinkling ends the process of atonement and allows the next stage to occur. This varies with each type of offering. With the pesaḥ, it is eating. However not all the animal is eaten by the owners. Some portions are given to the cohanim and certain fats and entrails are burnt on the altar. Eating too has restrictions, largely relating to ritual purity and timing. Each animal offering is accompanied by two vegetable based components: minḥa or meal offering (a mixture of fine flour and oil) which is burnt on the altar, and a wine libation which is poured onto the altar. In addition, all offerings must include salt. Thus animal offerings all include elements of the animal kingdom, the plant kingdom and the inanimate. A look at the architecture of the Beth haMikdash. It strongly resembles the structure of residential housing at the time. We can still view many examples of houses from this period in the mountain areas of Israel. Homes consisted of one or two chambers, a living room and perhaps an inner bedroom. The kitchen was not indoors. Food was prepared in the courtyard, where an oven was located. Houses were generally simply furnished: in the living room, a table for eating, an oil lamp and perhaps an incense burner. In the bedroom, a sanctum, a bed. In our region, the ideal direction for the opening of your dwelling is towards the east, the rising sun. You capture the beautiful morning light, and avoid the heat of the day. The Beth haMikdash is built on this architectural model. In the courtyard are the food preparation facilities. This has the lowest level of holiness: cohanim performing their ritual tasks, L'vi'im singing accompaniments. The owner of the animal is permitted to be present during his offering. Holiness increases in the hekhal, the main Beth haMikdash building. Only cohanim with very specific tasks may enter. The menora candelabrum is here. So too is the table, on which bread is always present. The last hekhal item is the golden altar, on which twice a day a cohen burns fine incense. At the far end of the Heikhal, in the west, is a wall (or later, a pair of curtains) separating off a private area. This is the holiest place on the earth. Only the High Priest may enter, once a year. Inside this Holy of Holies is the Ark, containing the stones of the Ten Statements given to Moshe by haShem on Har Sinai. On the lid of this Ark are the figures of two cherubs, one male, the second, female. I find it interesting that the Tora first introduces us to sacrifice in the narrative of Kayin and Hevel. Both of them, after a productive year, offer a portion of their produce to haShem. They were not commanded to do this -- it was, like natural justice and the language instinct, a built-in desire of man. It existed across the gamut of humanity. This desire seems to have dissipated around two thousand years, not long after the destruction of our Beth haMikdash. In most societies, prayer and meditation took the place of animal offerings. Sadly today even prayer is a disappearing form, perhaps being replaced by intellectualism. Today's criticism of animal sacrifice is centred on the practice being primitive in today's post-modern world. Why? Nearly all of us enjoy eating meat, but very few see animals other than on their plate. Some see it, sanitised, nicely shrink-wrapped in the supermarket refrigerator. Cruel factory farms are intentionally kept out of the sight of potential consumers. Almost no-one visits an abattoir. So no-one can be disgusted by the way animals are mistreated. We do not think of any of this when we go out to a restaurant and order a rare sirloin steak, a thick piece of meat, the animal's juices oozing out onto your plate. Some love to soak their bread into the gravy mixture to fully appreciate their piece of animal -- and of course to wash it all down with a good glass of red wine. Perhaps one of the problems with the use of animals in the Beth haMikdash is that the preparation of the food is carried out very publicly. First the owner pushes his hands down onto the cow's head and confesses his sin[s]. Then the four stages of sacrifice I described above are carried out. The altar is however merely a metaphor for our restaurant table. Meat, bread, wine. Man's meal corresponds closely to this Divine menu. Why do we enjoy eating this, but are uncomfortable watching it in front of our eyes in technicolor detail? Is it because in the Beth haMikdash context it comes to represent our own frailty of life? Vibrantly full one moment -- suddenly ended with the flick of a blade? Our blood and fat, the same biological substance as the cow or sheep? I think that this is an important lesson that many choose to ignore. They fail to the see the eternity that the Beth haMikdash teaches. In sacrifices like the Pesaḥ, most of the animal is eaten by us, the common people. Why is this different from the barbecues in which we, especially Israelis (cf mangal, bar-b-que) love to partake? Because here the animal arrives nicely chopped and packaged? If it mooed all morning in your yard, awaiting the ritual slaughterer, how many would absent themselves from the following feast? Only our intentions differentiate holy eating from regular meals. To simplify matters for the squeamish, only one member of the clan is required to accompany the Pascal Lamb to the Beth haMikdash. The rest of the family eagerly waits at home. Then the already butchered meat is barbecued. Who could have a problem with this? I for one pray daily for the speedy rebuilding of the Beth haMikdash where we, all the Jews, and Gentiles too as prophesied by Y'shayahu and Z'kharya, will be able to come close to haShem via the sharing of our food with Him and with people.
Menachem Kuchar, 26th April, 2010 * I wrote this article on 12th Iyar, 5770. The 14th Iyar is our Pesaḥ Sheni, the day the Tora allotted to people unable to bring the Pesaḥ a month earlier. This year the Samaritans' actual Pesaḥ, which they call Zevaḥ, took place on that same date. As our calendars are not fully aligned, during some years I am able to be with them for this major event in the calendar. * There is much discussion amongst the commentators on how this scenario actually played out. Moshe's command was for the entire nation to go up to these mountains immediately on arrival into the Land. From Y'hoshua it seems that this event only took place a few weeks later, following the war at haAy. A compromise position, which today seems to have been substantiated by the archaeological findings of a small round mizbe'aḥ under a more massive oblong shaped mizbe'aḥ on Eval. This finding by the late Prof Adam Zertal supports a proposition that a vanguard group from all the tribes, immediately on crossing the Yarden, went to the mountains, while the majority of the nation were setting up camp on the steppes of Y'riḥo.
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