Korbanot & Mental Health

This week’s parsha, Vayikra, offers a deep dive into the world of korbanot, sacrifices. Although there are many kinds of sacrifices, the majority of them are animal sacrifices. This leads to a debate between Nachmanides and Maimonides. Nachmanides argues that sacrifices are an ideal and an important way of man connecting with God. Maimonides, on the other hand, argues that they are a concession to man’s base nature, because man could not so easily be weaned off idolatry. I recommend reading Nehama Leibowitz’s essay comparing and contrasting the two approaches (link here) for a more robust treatment.

I’m a Nachmanides fan. He writes (I’m using the quote from the Leibowitz essay below)

A more acceptable rationale is the one set out as follows: Seeing that human conduct is expressed in thought, speech and action, God instituted that a person who has committed a transgression and offers a sacrifice, shall place his hands on it-symbolizing the deed, make a confession- as a reminder of the misused power of speech, and burn with fire the bowels and kidneys- which are the organs of thought and lust, and the legs- symbol of the human hands and feet, instruments which serve man in all his activities. And the blood shall be sprinkled on the altar- representing his life-blood. All this should make him realize that having sinned against God with his body and soul, he would deserve to have his blood spilled and his body burnt. However, God in His infinite mercy, accepts this substitute for an atonement, and in its blood in lieu of his, its main organs in place of his, the portion (of the sacrifice eaten by the priests) so as to sustain the teachers of the Torah that they may pray for him. Accordingly, the daily sacrifice is offered up because of the masses who are constantly caught up in the web of sin. This explanation is plausible and appeals to the mind even as the expositions of the Aggadah.

-page 9

We are currently facing a youth mental health crisis in America. And even when it comes to adults, poor mental health is on the rise. And I think a very real reason this is so, leaving aside the issues of brain biochemistry, hormonal imbalances and other physical causes for poor mental health, is that we do not know how to productively deal with essential and terrifying emotions.

Shame. Guilt. Fear. Terror. Regret. Pain.

And it is because we do not know how to deal with these emotions in a productive way that we end up dealing with them in unproductive ways. Maladaptive coping mechanisms such as cutting, restricting food, promiscuity and indiscriminate sex, substance use, alcoholism and the like exist because they are providing us with something. They are helping us cope with something enormous, something that would otherwise drown us. The role of the therapist and the role of medication is to assist us in coping in a different way, in a way that is more healthy and less self-defeating.

But consider for a moment the world of the Mishkan [Tabernacle] or the Beit Hamikdash [Temple]. This was a world where when you did something that caused you immense shame, regret, personal disgust, self-hatred, self-loathing and the like…there was a clear and present resolution for it. Korbanot existed so that you could offer them and hit the reset button- a clean slate so you could once again go forward in your service of God.

And korbanot existed for every human emotion. Are you overflowing with love and joy? Bring a thanksgiving offering, a korban shelamim. Is it a holiday? Celebrate with the entire community - whether it is Pesach, Sukkot or Shavuot. There is no such thing as current and contemporary loneliness- the kind of loneliness that eats away at a person and makes them miserable during the holidays- because the holidays must be celebrated in and with community. Indeed, because you cannot have any leftovers of the Paschal lamb, families would join together in order to eat together! And if you have sinned, if you are feeling shame, guilt, misery, feeling totally distant from God, there are korbanot for that. If you have just gone through a life-changing event, whether it is giving birth to a child or being saved from certain death, there are korbanot for that!

And korbanot speak to our need to atone on a visceral level. I have been privileged to have the opportunity to attend two shechitas, the slaughter of two cows. I watched the preparation, I watched the slaughtering of the cow, and I watched as every part of the cow was divided up, portioned out and sectioned off. It was an incredible experience. It was powerful. (Click here to learn more about my experience attending a shechita- note that the link contains pictures that are graphic.)

If I truly believed that cow represented me, it would be a form of watching myself die and then realize I am being reborn. That entire experience- the blood, the smell, each specific detail and the importance of following every minute aspect of the ceremony- would move me. Indeed, when people talk about cutting and why they cut, I am reminded of what the Ramban writes about the experience of offering a korban. People cut to release pain and to remind themselves they are alive. If you identified with the animal to the extend Ramban writes, watching that animal die and burn is like watching the ugly aspect of yourself- whichever aspect sinned, causing you these unbearable feelings of guilt, pain and misery- die. And that leaves only the pure part of you, the clean slate, the ability to begin again.

This is what atonement is. And we no longer have it. We don’t have the ability to atone, to make restitution in the clear, visceral, imagery-laden way we once did. We have words, we have the process of repentance…but it is not the same.

The problem with repentance, as we experience it nowadays, is that we never know whether we are forgiven. What if I am sorry, but I am not sorry enough? What if I’ve apologized to God, but there’s a piece of me that still longs to repeat the sin? Everything is in my head. I don’t get to see the change. I want to believe that God has accepted my repentance, but I don’t know it, not on the heart level that I would if I literally saw the animal being offered up, participated in the ceremony with the priest and felt that I had expiated myself, atoned, and could now move forward. And I am a visual creature. I need, I want to see. I want that clarity.

But don’t take my word for it. Andrew Solomon, author of The Noonday Demon, a masterpiece of a book on depression, has an incredible essay that illustrates the point. It’s entitled “Naked, Covered in Ram’s Blood, Drinking a Coke and Feeling Pretty Good.” I recommend reading the whole thing. But I’ll excerpt one part.

And so when one of my dearest friends, David, who was living for a little while in Senegal, said to me, “Do you know about the tribal rituals that are used for the treatment of depression here?” I said, “No, I don’t know about them. But I would like to know about them.”

And he said, “Well, if you come for a visit, we could try to do some research on this topic.”

[…]

She said, “You don’t look that great yourself. Are you suffering from depression?”

And I said, “Well, yes. It was very acute. It’s a little better now, but I still do actually suffer from depression.”

She said, “Well, I’ve certainly never done this for a toubab before, but I could actually do an ndeup for you.”

And I said, “Oh! What an interesting idea. Well, um, yes, sure. Yeah, absolutely, yes, let’s do that. I’ll have an ndeup.”

[…]

And then the women all filled their mouths with water and began spitting water all over me — it was a surround-shower effect — rinsing the blood away from me. It gradually came off, and when I was clean, they gave me back my jeans. And everyone danced, and they barbecued the ram, and we had this dinner.

And I felt so up. I felt so up! It had been quite an astonishing experience. Even though I didn’t believe in the animist principles behind it, all of these people had been gathered together, cheering for me, and it was very exhilarating.

And I had a very odd experience five years later, when I was working on my current book, and I was in Rwanda doing something else altogether. I got into a conversation with someone there, and I described the experience I had had in Senegal, and he said, “Oh, you know, we have something that’s a little like that. That’s West Africa. This is East Africa. It’s quite different, but there are some similarities to rituals here.”

He said, “You know, we had a lot of trouble with Western mental health workers who came here immediately after the genocide, and we had to ask some of them to leave.”

I said, “What was the problem?”

And he said, “Their practice did not involve being outside in the sun, like you’re describing, which is, after all, where you begin to feel better. There was no music or drumming to get your blood flowing again when you’re depressed, and you’re low, and you need to have your blood flowing. There was no sense that everyone had taken the day off so that the entire community could come together to try to lift you up and bring you back to joy. There was no acknowledgment that the depression is something invasive and external that could actually be cast out of you again.

“Instead, they would take people one at a time into these dingy little rooms and have them sit around for an hour or so and talk about bad things that had happened to them. We had to get them to leave the country.”

I am not saying that if we had Korbanot back there would be no mental health crisis. Mental health is complicated and it includes a lot of factors - genetics, environment, the way a person was raised, and much more. But I am saying that there are many people who do not know how to cope with their emotions who would be able to cope with them far more productively if we had the system of Korbanot back. I know I am one of them.

So I look forward to a third Beit Hamikdash and a world with Korbanot. I look forward to the imagery filled, scent filled, experience filled world where I can connect to God - and reconnect to God- taking practical steps and following clear formulae. Where I can feel like I am forgiven through going through an experiential process that gets me there and helps me process my more negative emotions. Because I believe these rituals were provided to psychologically benefit us, and I think we need them back.

(This is a picture of the chelev, fat. As you can see, it looks like lace. When you see it, you understand why the other organs were wrapped up in it and burned before God- it was a way of beautifying the offering.)