From the very beginning of the history of the Jewish people, there has been a tension between those who see the text as G-d’s timeless document, and those who seek to overlay the “modern” way of thinking on what the Torah says, in order to suggest that there are higher and better ways to understand what G-d really wants from us.
To some extent, every generation is guilty of the latter. Common Jewish words like “mazal” (from “mazal tov”) come from Akkadian and Babylonian astrology, for example. Hellenism similarly left a deep impression on Judaism, and the method of debate and argumentation found in the crystallized Jewish Oral Law are reflective of the way the non-Jewish world taught logic at the time. Had the Oral Law been written down a few centuries earlier – or later – the language and process would not look the same – even if the law itself probably would not have meaningfully differed.
For Jews, Christianity was, in its own way, one of these departures from the Torah. To this cynical author, Christianity accepted every commandment that made sense (like those concerned with murder and theft), but decided that every commandment that was not obviously meaningful (like the dietary code or the laws of ritual impurity) was “fulfilled” and could thus be considered no longer relevant to a more modern practice of faith.
To some extent, Jews have always done this, too. Today, the concept of “Ethical Judaism” reflects “socially conscious” goals, often including different flavors of social justice, environmentalism, or vegetarianism. This is when it is more obvious. But even subtle changes percolate slowly throughout. For example, tolerance of homosexual relationships, because of their acceptance across so much of secular society, is at an all-time historical high among Jews – even subtly affecting the reactions of the most observant within the Jewish world. None of us is immune from our surroundings.
Here’s the challenge: When we accept alterations, are we doing it because we truly think G-d wants it? Or are we really deciding what we think G-d should want?
This is a fundamental question for all Jews today: does G-d still expect us to fulfill the commandments that are given in the Torah? Specifically, do we believe (and indeed hope and pray) that the rebuilt Temple will require animal sacrifice? Or do we, at some level, believe that we can or should “move on” to a more cerebral and perhaps less gory way to connect to G-d?
Even among the most Orthodox of Jews, there is no clarity. Our sages are not unanimous, and today’s rabbis prefer to punt the ball, and suggest that “G-d will tell us” in order to avoid being pinned down either way. There is an oral tradition, captured in the midrash, that animal sacrifices will not resume. The famous Moses Maimonides, known as Rambam, suggests in his Guide to the Perplexed that prayer is a suitable proxy for animal sacrifice. Rabbi Kook seems to agree. Source. And yet: the Torah makes the commandment clear. What are we supposed to think?
For my part, I believe that the Torah must be applicable, in full, all the way through. I believe that we are commanded to bring sacrifices, and so we must work toward doing so. It remains clear that the sacrifices are never meant to be offered without any associated meaning (we have many prophets exhorting us that the sacrifices are meant to teach us to practice loving-kindness!).
But offered properly, I suggest that the very reason we recoil at the idea of animal sacrifice is precisely why those sacrifices can be so effective – and even necessary. We are too far from G-d. We are commanded to bring offerings to come closer to Him.
What About Elements That are Lost To Us?
What is the difference between animal sacrifices and, say, the requirement to have Aharon’s staff and the tablets and Manna (and something else) in the Ark, the Aron?
I believe the relics in the Aron were just advanced training wheels – but still not necessary. They reminded us of miracles. Once we don’t need reminding, we don’t need them.
In that sense, the relics are like other elements in the Torah that the people moved on from: the clouds and pillar of fire (used to remind us G-d’s presence) and manna are all in the wilderness – and they all end. And so we would not expect any of these elements in the future rebuilding of divine service in Jerusalem, just as there are no commandments regarding them.
(The exception might be the high priest’s urim and tumim, mysterious semi-oracular interpretive aids, which were also lost. Unless they are somehow replaced, there is no way for us to consult them.)
How Do We Proceed?
According to many opinions, we can bring the korban pesach, the Passover Offering, today. Some have been trying to do this (the Israeli authorities strictly forbid it).
Other sacrifices require preconditions to be met: we have to be able to become ritually pure, able to elevate. So, for example, we are commanded to have the red heifer, the parah adumah in order for the priests to serve. Without a red heifer that meets specification, almost all divine service is forbidden. There are farms devoted to growing such animals! You can see five of them in Shiloh today.
But opposing all of this is a deep reluctance among many observant Jews. Driven primarily by a deep and instinctive respect for precedent (a nice word for inertia), most observant Jews have chosen passivity, unwilling and unable to suggest that we should be acting differently than the Jewish people have over the past 2,000 years.
Which brings us back to the initial question: Are we being true to the Torah if we drag our feet?