VAYIKRA

"IF ANY MAN OF YOU BRING AN OFFERING TO THE L-RD..." (VAYIKRA 1:2)"

The Ramban (VaYikra 1:9) explains that one of the reasons that sacrifices are brought is that they serve as a visual aid to enhance a person's ability to do Teshuvah. Every aspect of bringing the Korban has deep significance. When the Semicha, pressing of hands on the animal's forehead is performed, this corresponds to the sins of his actions. The Vidui, verbal confession corresponds to his evil speech, and the burning of the innards of the animal correspond to his inner thoughts and temptations. The burning of the legs of the offering corresponds to the hands and feet that do the evil deeds. The blood that is sprinkled upon the altar is compared to the blood in his own body. All these acts are done so that the person who brought the korban should realize that he has sinned with his body and soul. In reality, it is his blood that should have been spilled, and it is his body that should have been burned, if not for the lovingkindness of Hashem who took for him a substitute. This offering is his replacement; its blood is in place of his blood. It's life is in exchange for his life. The Ramban later explains that the very word Korban comes from Karov- connoting coming closer to G-D.

Similarly, the Sephorno explains that this posuk, "Odom Ki Yakriv Michem..." actually means sacrificing of yourself, with vidui, confession, and submission to the will of Hashem. Thus we see from both the Ramban and the Sephorno that when one brought a Korban, it was a veritable "Yom Kippur" for him. It was a time for Teshuvah and Cheshbon HaNefesh, introspective calculation. It was a time of intense thinking and earnest spiritual elevation. It was a time to achieve Dvaikus Bashem, fusing oneself entirely with G-D.

Yet in the midst of this person being utterly absorbed and engrossed in this great spiritual ascension, we find that the Torah makes certain demands of him. The Baal HaTurim (VaYikra 2:3) says that VeSamach Yado, the requirement of pressing hands on the head of the animal with all one's strength is only applicable to a large animal. When, in fact, the offering is a smaller, weaker animal, the Torah states, "VeSamach Es Yado," to push down with less pressure, in order not to cause pain to these animals. Thus the Torah demands that in the midst of this monumental elevation of kedusha, climbing ever so closer to Hashem through the stimulation of the strongest feelings of Teshuvah, he must find of himself to push down only moderately upon the head of this animal, in order not to cause it pain.

One may perhaps ask: Is a person capable of concentrating on both of these acts simultaneously? Can a person so thoroughly engrossed in devoting oneself wholeheartedly to the spiritual elevation he is currently experiencing take special care to avoid paining this animal while pressing his hands on the animal's head? Is a person capable of "being up in the heavens" and down on earth at the same time? Furthermore, is it worthwhile for the Torah to demand of a person in the midst of this great spiritual ascension to interrupt this greatest and holiest of experiences simply to avoid causing pain to this animal? Especially since in but moments this animal will be slaughtered anyway! Isn't the act of specifically avoiding to hurt the animal rather trivial in light of the significance of every precious second of spiritual growth and Teshuvah lost that breaking this momentum will entail?

We clearly see from here that since the Torah does demand of a person so enraptured in this great spiritual ascension to take care not to hurt this animal by pressing too hard upon him, that a person has the capability of focusing his attention on both of these very important yet diverse concentrations, for if not the Torah would never have required it. We also see that the Torah teaches us that it is worthwhile to pause from this holiest of acts, and deny ourselves precious spiritual growth in order not to cause tzaar even to an animal... even to an animal that will immediately be slaughtered.

If this is true for an animal, how much more so must we be concerned not to cause pain to a human being no matter how preoccupied we are, as can be illustrated with a story of Rabbi Yisroel Salanter. Once, during the days approaching Yom Kippur, Reb Yisroel was walking in the streets of the city and greeted a very pious individual, only to be ignored by him. The pious man was so deep in thought concerning the impending Yom HaDin, that he was oblivious to the trivialities of greetings, and acknowledging the presence of another human being. Reb Yisroel remarked, "Because he is concerned with Yom HaDin, am I at fault?" The fact is that causing someone else pain is never trivial.