Using your Mishkan

Our relationship is a sacred realm that provides access to the depths of our own minds and hearts, as well as to the depths of experience.  Like the Mishkan we discussed in previous chapters, actions in the realm of our Mishkan of relationship are consistently transformative since they take place in so many dimensions at once.  For the Mishkan is the home of a special type of action that is simultaneously literal and symbolic, both meaningful in itself and imbued with archetypal meanings.  The Mishkan is home to the korban.

Korban is usually mistranslated as ‘sacrifice’, but the truer meaning of the word is based upon its root – KaRoV – ‘to be close’.  A korban is meant to bring a person close through giving up something valuable or important.  Every action and interaction in relationship could be a korban, bearing the possibility of deep positive – or negative – effect:  we can make dramatic forward movement with each expression of gratitude, apology, self-awareness, and aspiration.  A hug, a cold drink, a compassionate glance – all these, when imbued with the power of korban, can transform.

Korban has many redeeming qualities, as we shall discuss, but one of the most important and most liberating is the fact that these actions are directed toward the relationship, and not toward each other.  Through understanding the depths of korban, we come to see that most of our ‘transgressions’ are actually toward the relationship, not toward our partner per se.  When a woman gets angry with her partner, for example, she is damaging herself as well as her partner.  The locus of fixing, therefore, is the relationship and not an individual.  This perspective frees us from much of the dread we might hold that prevents us from apologizing or expressing gratitude.

With this in mind, we will discuss the various manifestations of korban and how they can guide us toward unimagined closeness.

There are many kinds of closeness

Many different kinds of sacrifices-korbanot are described in the book of Vaykira – Leviticus.  After all, there are many ways to come close to each other – approximately as many ways as there are to feel distant and disconnected from each other.  Sometimes I feel far from my partner because we have not spent enough time together.  Sometimes it is because I have angered her, or she has angered me.  Sometimes we are misunderstanding each other.  Sometimes we are bored.  Each of these calls for a unique path of return toward intimacy – whether through apologies, an explanation, through time spent, a gift offered, or a task performed.

Accordingly, the Torah describes many types of korbanot (plural of Korban) – the olah – elevation offering, which comes to recognize a deed not done, or to address confusion of the heart.  There are nedivot – offerings that arise from a moment’s desire to be closer.  We find shelamim - peace offerings, meant to show gratitude or as a celebration.  The Torah also describes chatat – sin offerings and asham – sins of omission or ignorance.

These korbanot translate into moments of encounter that we have with each other.  They take the form of words, deeds, body language, and intentions – any means by which we make a certain kind of contact or communicate a certain feeling.  Whenever we seek to come closer around a certain issue or moment, we are participating in korban.

Learning about the different offerings in their subtleties will help us learn how to come close to each other

Each type of offering provides a particular map that brings us from far to close.  The subtle topography of these maps sheds light on how to navigate that complicated physical-emotional-intellectual-spiritual journey.  It will be quite valuable to learn as much as we can about each type of offering, because each of them is a Divinely choreographed movement replete with bottomless wisdom about humanness in relationship.  For example, we might think we know how to apologize, but the Torah offers unique and invaluable guidance through the multi-dimensional obstacle course that leads to genuine apology.

Each offering consists of many details, including what kind of animal is brought (cow, goat, sheep, bird) male or female, how old the animal is, where it is slaughtered, what is done with the blood, which organs are burned, which parts of the animal are eaten, by whom, and where, how much grain is included, how much oil, how much wine, how much frankincense, until how long the animal can be eaten, who may eat it, who brings it, etc.

Each detail is the dramatization of a certain spiritual/emotional principle.  Thus the more we know about each detail of each type of sacrifice – if we can break the code – the better we will be able to use the sacrifices as maps for our own movements toward each other in relationship.  We will examine many of these details in hopes to inform our communication with the deep wisdom that the sacrifices carried.  They will point toward a refined sense of clarity, purpose, preparation, execution, and expectation in our shared korban moments.

The Torah does not describe all the details of any one offering at the same time

The way the Torah describes these different offerings and their constituent details is quite interesting.  Rather than explain all the details of one offering and then go on to the next, the Torah describes only certain aspects of one offering and then describes only certain aspects of the next offering.  Only later will it take up the task of relating the remainder of the details of the first offering.  Some offerings are described 3 or more times with quite a bit of narrative in between, with certain details of some offerings described only after a major dramatic event.  The way the description unfolds will give us valuable instruction as to how each strand of our relationship is expected to develop.

For example, the Torah first tells us that these strands of relationship exist – chatat – sin offering, asham – guilt offering, peace offering, olah – elevation offering, etc.  This points toward just how important it is to first understand, appreciate the necessity of, and establish all the possible routes toward intimacy, even if they will not yet be fully developed until much later.  In order to thrive, every relationship must have some working model of all the key ingredients of relationship – like communication, vision, honesty, gratitude, and apology.  To illustrate, while it is essential to be able to make peace after a fight, it is an equally essential skill to avoid the fight through healthy communication.  A relationship that cannot stop a fight but can effectively make peace cannot last.  Thus the Torah wants us to awaken and develop, even in early stages, all of the necessary tools for being - and staying - close before we become experts in one or the other aspect.

Action: Make a list of all the different types of interactions you have, or should have: practical, romantic, apologetic, heated discussion, etc.  Are there any that you are quite adept at?  Are there any that you fail at every time?  Which kind of korban do you think you need to learn more about?

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As mentioned, there are many details of each Korban.  Each facet of each korban is a necessary means to express the emotions that are carried by the korban.  We will discuss some of those aspects shortly, but first we will address some details that are relevant to all korbanot.

Animals – the emotional currency of the ancient world

Behemot – the domesticated animals that can be used in korban - includes cows, sheep, and goats.  Based upon the particular need at the moment of offering, one would choose the most appropriate animal.  R’ Kook tells us that the cow would be offered at a time when our gross physicality - and the selfishness it breeds - has become damaging.  A sheep, on the other hand, comes to help with moments when physicality has not been damaging but is merely distracting or inhibitive.  The goat would provide the brazenness required to break through a certain situation in order to allow for renewal.

When facing a moment when we intend to move closer, we should consider what, specifically, is preventing that closeness, and make design our communication accordingly.  For example, a brazen attempt to smash barriers of communication (the goat) may not be the best apology for a moment of forgetfulness.

There are additional limitations as to what animals may be brought on the altar – no animal that has been worshipped or has killed a human being, for example, may become a korban.  In terms of relationship, when my goal is to re-connect, why would I bring my ‘sacred cow’ to the altar?  People often make promises they cannot possibly keep in order to bring resolution to a conflict.

And would I dare bring an offering of specific words or emotions that have caused such extensive damage in the past?  It is shocking how many attempted apologies actually make things worse because of their insensitivity.

Male and female animals – is it a matter of intention or of expression?

Mystically speaking, male and female represent two opposing and inter-dependent archetypes – the Giver (form) and the Receiver (material).  Sacrifices might come to address one or the other of these needs.  In the case of the Olah, for example, when all the necessary pieces of the relationship are present but disconnected, we ask for Male energy to give the formless material a sense of common direction.  On the other hand, if the situation were such that a good intention or idea was expressed in an unhealthy way, or met unforeseen obstacles to implementation, then a female offering might be required.

In both cases, however, the Torah tells us that an androgyne and hermaphrodite are unacceptable as sacrifices.  This hints toward the need to clarify what is needed in a given situation – better form (male) – a clearer vision or idea - or better material (female) – better means of expressing the idea or vision.  Ambiguity can be quite harmful.  Again, we see the essential importance of clarifying what, exactly, is needed in order for the relationship to move forward.

When preparing our ‘offering’ – be it an apology, a compliment, a gift, etc. – it is essential that we clarify for ourselves what need we are addressing, or what we are hoping to accomplish with that offering.  This can be quite challenging and requires courage, humility, and a degree of self-awareness and relationship-awareness.  It takes intelligence and guts to be absolutely clear about what is lacking or damaged in a relationship.

Be sure the offering toward the relationship is as flawless as possible

The animal offered must be tamim – without flaw.  One famous commentator, the Malbim, writes that a person must inspect the animal to be sure that it is without flaw before it is brought as a korban.  This connotes a famous Midrash where we are told that Hashem, before He speaks, ‘goes over’ His words three or four times to be sure they effectively communicate the idea.  If the Master of the Universe ‘needs’ to review His words before speaking them, we certainly must do so.

Many reactions can be anticipated if our words are thought through.  I must know by now that certain words are triggers for my wife, and she must know what pushes my buttons.  If I am careful, I can anticipate to some extent how certain forms of expression will be received, and I can avoid unnecessary provocations.  Thus, when I am preparing an offering to our relationship, I must inspect that offering to be sure it is tamim.

This, of course, requires patience and self-control, resisting the urge to blurt out whatever comes to mind.  But the sacrifices in the Mishkan required deep preparation as well – the priest had to know who it was for, for what purpose, and the laws of the offering being brought.  If we are intent on accessing the full transformative power of the Mishkan of Relationship, we must bring a similar level of prepration.

Offerings must be made face to face

Some offerings must be brought all the way to the opening of the Tent of Meeting.  It is praiseworthy for the one who brings the offering to bring it as far into the Temple as is permitted, rather than send it by messenger, which is permitted but not ideal.

Often times, we toss words at each other – even apologies or gratitude.  The words are in front, and the person is somewhere behind them.  The ideal, however, is for the person to be present with the words.  The true presence of the person gives the words their depth and character.

A person must want to make the offering

The Torah mentions that all sacrifices must be lir’tzo-no – according to the giver’s will.  And yet, the previous words are ‘yakriv oto – he must bring it.  Rashi explains that he must bring it, and he must want to bring it.  He has no choice but to bring it, and the bringing must be an act of will.  As Rashi explains, we force him until he says ‘I want to’.

A reluctant apology is not an apology.  With children, just saying ‘I’m sorry’ may be enough.  But for adults in a committed relationship, all expressions of apology or gratitude or desire must be as sincere as possible.  If the person does not want to be saying what he is saying, it will be blatantly obvious, and the words lose most of their value.

And yet, in some situations, we cannot wait for the person to evolve to the point where he or she wants to say those important words like ‘thank you’ or ‘I’m sorry’.  We must navigate the impasse, and this is the only way.  That person must recognize the need to reach sincerity and do so, by whatever means necessary.  Such is the nature of real relationship.  There is no other option.

The offering must be made with full intent to bring resolution

Many offerings require semicha – the leaning of the hands. At such moments, a person shows that he or she is depending on that animal as a means of communicating something very important.  Whereas it is possible to toss words or deeds toward our partner without really meaning it, such lack of commitment to the word or deed can be sensed immediately, and it devalues the exchange.  Though it is difficult to depend on a dozen roses, a back rub, a few choice words, or a cup of tea as a means of communicating something so essential, we sometimes must express deep emotions or concerns with frail words or coarse objects.  In such situations, it is our sincerity and dependency that gives the frail offering its depth and meaning.

Redirection of energy

The act of slaughtering is the crucial moment in the Temple offering.  It is the act of cutting off the life force of the animal so that its life force may be focused in a new direction – toward the altar and the Temple of the relationship.  More specifically, when one partner brings the offering, slaughtering implies giving up control of what is being offered so that the energy contained therein can truly reinvigorate the relationship:  energy that was once divisive can now contribute to cooperation.

As an example, an apology can very easily have strings attached – I am apologizing so that you will apologize in return, or leave me alone, or the like.  The energy contained in the apology is still tied up in me, and cannot truly benefit the relationship.  By slaughtering it, so to speak, I am truly giving over the apology and everything it contains into the betterment of the relationship.

G-d helps the offering accomplish its goal

Once the offering is slaughtered, the Kohanim-priests must take over.  There is only so much I can do to ensure that this offering will accomplish its purpose.  I can choose the right words or means of expression, I can be sure that my intention is proper and that the moment has proper weight in my mind – and then I must let go and allow the Kohanim to take over.

The Kohen, says R’ Kook, represents the innermost part of ourselves.  While the sacrifice itself is the arrow that I launch toward its target, the innermost dimension within me – the Kohen – is what propels it forward.  I must be sure that the arrow is perfectly straight and properly balanced, but I must recognize that the very power of who I am, at the core, is what will make this offering find its mark.

Directing the energy of the offering toward where it is most needed

Once the life-force, as contained in the blood, is disconnected from its original source in the animal, it is refocused toward one or more of the essential points whereby illumination can enter the relationship.  In so doing, we open up access to a source of illumination that can redirect the raw energy we have been investing in the relationship.

For example, we might spend an enormous amount of energy holding on to blame, anger, frustration, wounded-ness, and sadness.  Once we sever the connection between that quantity of energy and the way we are expressing that energy, it is available to be used toward a different end.  We learn how to redirect that energy by accessing a source of illumination, like a friend, text, therapist, or prayer moment.

Even in the process of accessing illumination there are different points in the process that are preventing transmission.  R’ Kook calls our attention toward three places where the blood would be sprinkled – between the poles of the Ark, on the curtain that separates the Holy from the Holy of Holies, and on the gold altar.  Between the poles represents the source of illumination; the curtain represents its power to extend from the Source into the world; and the altar represents our capacity to receive that illumination.  Based upon where the blockage is, the blood would be sprinkled in that place to open the channels of illumination all the way into the real world.

Taking relationship to the next level - The Olah- elevation offering - Part I

The Olah comes to address a particular forward move that has not happened.  Sometimes we offend our partners by a foolish act – like saying hurtful words or neglecting common space or objects.  At other times, though, the offense is in not doing something that must be done.  This might be a neglected act, like forgetting a birthday or not having said thank-you, but it might also be lack of knowledge as to how to move forward. Sins of commission and sins of omission both cause suffering, but the way back to intimacy is by quite different routes.

Inability to be proactive leaves a hole – an essential ingredient for establishing or maintaining connection is absent.  This inability manifests a dynamic in the relationship whereby a complicated set of reasons renders forward movement difficult or impossible.  Something else must come along to establish that connection – the olah offering.  The olah, acknowledging the gap between us, points toward the reconfiguration of the relationship.  This is accomplished by connecting the disconnected parts of our relationship in a new narrative.

The offering must open us both up to something larger

The Olah must be brought to the Tent of Meeting, which, writes R’ Kook, represents access to the Word of G-d.  When we are trying to achieve a higher unity of the constituent parts of our relationship, the guiding principle must transcend both you and I, for we are the parts that must be unified in a greater whole.  Thus we must bring our offering to the Tent of Meeting, to the Source that can unify us beyond our current limitations of awareness.  This may take several different forms.  It might happen in the context of learning an inspiring piece of Torah together, or seeking the advice of a mutual friend or advisor.  In both cases, we must be unified in our commitment to seek a higher unity in our relationship.

The Olah invites mystically transformative energy into the relationship

As mentioned above, the slaughter of the animal is the liberation of the energy contained therein so that it may serve the higher purpose of nourishing the relationship rather than inhibiting it.  However, the specific compass point around the altar where the slaughter takes place is of great significance.  The Olah is slaughtered at the north of the altar.  The very word for north, tzafon, means hidden (as in the moment in the seder when we eat the afikoman).  For R’ Kook, the hidden-ness symbolized by the north connotes the alchemical mystery of transformation.  Since the Olah seeks to present a unity where none has been apparent, it must tap into this mysterious element.

It is often lost to us how something that has divided us can unite us – how an uncomfortable gap or paralysis can actually serve as the womb of renewal.  But we acknowledge, when we bring an Olah on the altar of our relationship, that we sometimes need those mystical energies in order to move beyond our current block.

The offering is meant to bring all aspects of relationship around to their ultimate usefulness

The blood of the Olah is sprinkled around the altar.  R’ Kook tells us that the function of sprinkling the blood around the altar is to bring that which seems painful or destructive around into the light.  In its parts, a relationship could seem broken and unsatisfying.  But by rising up to the place where the entirety of the relationship can be seen like a tapestry, whose patterns are only visible from afar, those moments of brokenness can be seen for what they are – openings to new possibility.  Even the failure that created the need for an Olah can bring us closer if seen in the right light.

The process shows us the issues that underlie our difficulties

Once the blood has been sprinkled, the body of the animal is skinned and flayed.  The skinning, says R’ Kook, is the necessary removal of the externality – the ‘form’ - of the problem, so that the inner dimension – the substance - can rise.  As such, when an issue arises within the relationship, it is most often not about the toothpaste cap, the dishes, or the forgotten birthday.  In order for the depths of the issue to take their place within the larger patterns of the relationship, the external manifestation of the issue must be opened up.

The flaying of the body reminds us how important it is for the details – the guts - of the issue to be seen and honored.  Each organ is removed, washed, and burned - because every issue has a heart, lungs, liver, stomach, and kidneys.  The details will reveal the depths.

The offering cannot work without a warm environment

Once the issue or moment is freed of its external manifestation and seen for all its constituent parts, they are all fed to the holy fire that is held by the altar.  Now the offering can feed the source.  But the fire’s capacity to burn, says R’ Kook, is secondary to its capacity to provide warmth.   It is only the warmth of the relationship that can absorb mistakes and turn them into growth.  Without it, the offering does not work.

Small offerings can go a long way

Animals were not the only options available for sacrifice – the Torah also presents the option of a grain offering as an Olah.  The verse that describes the minchah reads, ‘When a nefesh (soul) brings a grain offering…’  Rashi writes, ‘the word nefesh is not used by any other voluntary sacrifice – only by the grain - minchah.  Who would bring a grain offering?  A poor person.  The Holy One says, “I consider it as if he brought his entire soul [as a sacrifice].”’

We need to have proper perspective on the size of the incidents and accidents of our relationship.  Sometimes I do something quite small, but it is really quite big.  Similarly, ‘small’ offerings can have enormous ramifications.  For those who cannot even say the words ‘I’m sorry’, the mere utterance of them, even without deep intention or sincerity, is like moving a boulder.  We need the openness to see when our partner has brought his or her whole soul to the moment, and to respond accordingly.

But we also need the courage to bring a handful of grain when we think we should be bringing cows.  Self-knowledge and humility give us the capacity to joyfully offer what we have, without shame.

The grain offering is brought soaked in olive oil and crowned with a sprig of frankincense.  The olive oil serves as a conduit for the spiritual into the physical.  Even the minimal grain offering, if it is truly to serve the relationship, can bring access to the holy.

Rav Kook sees the levonah - frankincense as the means by which abstract ideas reach the real world.   This is especially important when the offering is ‘impoverished’, and relatively devoid of thoroughness and clear impact.  When we can only mumble a few words of half-hearted apology, it is hard to imagine real change being affected.  But the frankincense helps us realize that our words and actions can have vast implications and effects.

The offering is not there for our enjoyment

There are many kinds of grain offerings, including fried and baked biscuits, but none of them can include honey or chometz – leavened grain, except the offering of First Fruits and the Gratitude Offering, which we will talk about in their place.  What is it about chometz that makes it anathema to the offering? R’ Shlomo of Radomsk, in his book Tiferet Shlomo, writes that both honey and leaven are indulgences, serving only for physical pleasure.  R’ Kook echoes this idea as well, noting that honey and leaven and the pleasure they bring can certainly be elevated and are essential parts of a life of holiness.  But Hashem knows that there is a danger that enjoyment of the sacrifices on a surface level can profane the entire experience.

Similarly, the offerings we make toward our relationship may well be enjoyable, but that experience of pleasure should not be a goal in itself at that moment.  Some people, for example, love apologizing not because it nourishes the other but because it feeds their own sense of self-righteousness.  Just as the removing of the skin connotes the removing of the external manifestation so that the inner dimension could be recognized, withholding honey and chometz reminds us that we are bringing this offering for the sake of the relationship, and not for self-gratification.

Getting it just right

The last essential ingredient in the grain offering, and in all offerings, is salt. R’ Kook notes that salt prevents things from growing.  The balance achieved in the moment of offering to the relationship is delicate, and if the many thoughts and emotions that went into that moment continued to expand, the mixture might lose its potency and its character.  It is difficult to sustain a particular level of attention and intention for a length of time, but it is quite possible to focus on one particular point in time.  Put another way, I may be quite capable of apologizing tomorrow at 3:30 when we meet for coffee, but I cannot maintain an air of apology from now until Friday.  If I were to try, I might become frustrated and my expression might become distorted.  Salt, then, comes to freeze the moment, to encapsulate all the preparation and thoughts and emotions without letting them grow beyond their well-intended conclusions.

In conclusion, the Olah comes to unite the disparate parts of our relationship through elevating them out of their isolation.  This fragmentation often comes not because of spite, but because of a lack of clarity.  It is this very lack of clarity that the Olah addresses.  Like all offerings, it requires taking a particular instance, stripping its particularity, honoring its complexity, and using it is a way to approach a deep source of wisdom to bring about growth and change.  Once the energy investment in the obstacle is cut off, the life force can be addressed to help one or both partners open themselves up to receiving that wisdom and affecting change in the relationship.

The Shelamim – peace offering Part I

What makes the shelamim offering distinct is that some of it is consumed by the altar, some by the Kohanim, and some by those who brought it.  They can then share it with whomever they please.  Since the shelamim offering comes to address issues of capacity to connect with others, it is appropriate that the offering connects many facets of the relationship – the shared and the individual, the inner and the outer.  While the Olah brings clarity as to how the parts fit together, the shelamim focuses on the mechanisms by which that clarity is realized.

In our context, the shelamim offering comes to address and connect three important strata of relationship - me as an individual, us as a partnership, and our partnership in relation to the larger world.  Each stratum must be healthy for the relationship to be healthy, and the relationship between one stratum and another must be healthy.  That is to say, we must be sure that each of us is healthy, but that our individual health does not come at the expense of our relationship’s health.  And if our relationship is thriving but is not providing for the larger world, this is a problem as well.

What exactly is shalom - peace? Shalom implies shleimut – completeness. When we have shalom, both partners feel they are bringing all of themselves to the relationship.  Neither feels like he or she must leave aspects of him or herself behind in order to coexist.  So the goal of the shelamim offering is to bring all parts of all participants into alignment with one another.  It is meant to ensure that the needs of he individuals are not sacrificed for the needs of the relationship, and that the relationship is not sacrificed for the needs of the individuals.

It is also meant to ensure that the needs of the individual and the needs of the relationship do not overshadow tzarchei ma’alah – the Needs of Above, the sanctification of G-d’s name in the world through espousing Jewish values and tikkun olam.  The couple’s responsibility toward the world may be illustrated by the following custom:  When Jews are married, the glass is broken to remind us that the world is broken.  The marriage cannot ever feel whole when the world remains broken.  In a sense, the bride and groom dedicate their marriage to being a place of health and positivity and holiness that will serve the larger need of repairing the world.  Thus the Torah describes the shelamim offering as ‘bread for G-d.’

When we notice that one of these needs is not being met the shelamim offering would be brought.  The details of this offering will give us important guidelines as to how to address breakdowns in connection between different points in our relationship, its functions, and its priorities.

The details of the Shelamim - addressing breakdown

When we become aware that the parts of our relationship are not functioning in concert, we need to make all attempts to understand why: is it because we don’t spend enough leisure time together?  Perhaps we need a conversation on distribution of labor in the home.  Or maybe we got wrapped in a certain project and let ourselves fall out of touch with friends or family.

Once we diagnose the problem we can better address how to bring ourselves back to wholeness.  One of the first questions is whether the breakdown is a function of vision or execution.  Thus the shelamim, unlike the Olah, can be either male or female.  The problems it addresses may be male – a particular vision of how the relationship should function, or female – an inability to execute that vision because of the circumstance of the relationship.

Unlike the Olah, which must be slaughtered at the north of the altar, the shelamim can be slaughtered at any compass point.  Just as each point has its own nature- north is hidden, south brings wisdom, west is ‘before G-d’, east implies newness – the offerer must have a clear sense of what sort of energy the relationship needs in order to bring about a better capacity to connect.  It might need a hidden, alchemical transformation, but then again it might require bringing something that is already hidden to light.  It might require an infusion of something new, or it might require bringing something that is already there ‘before G-d.’

This offering is brought ‘on top of the Olah’ (Lev. 3:5).  The Olah is essential in providing the vision itself, while the shelamim addresses implementation of the vision that the olah provides.

Unlike the olah, one can bring a goat as a shelamim offering.  The goat, in Hebrew, is ez – which, for R’ Kook, connotes the brazenness (azut) that is sometimes required in order to break through a situation so that it can be renewed.  When the relationship needs a new vision, breakage is not necessary – we need only rise above the confusion.  But with shelamim, we must break certain assumptions about how the relationship functions in order for real peace to happen.  Sometimes invisible walls, boundaries, limitations and assumptions need to be broken for real peace to happen.

Oops!  The chatat – sin offering part I

While the olah and shelamim issues of vision, structure, and overall functioning, the chatat addresses a mistake borne of lack of consciousness.  The Torah describes two primary kinds of mistakes – a mistake in perception of reality, like thinking today is Tuesday and not Shabbat, and a mistake in knowing right and wrong, such as thinking that certain things that are prohibited on Shabbat are not.  The Torah does not see them on the same level as intentional misdeeds, but it also does not excuse them.  This is a brilliant innovation.

How many times have you said, ‘well, I didn’t mean to do it’ or ‘I didn’t know’?  And of course you are sincere in your apology, but is that enough?  When we make mistakes, there is an implied lack of consciousness.  Even if I didn’t know I was not conscious, it is still my responsibility to have known, and I must own that.  Lack of consciousness - 'I didn't know' - is no longer a viable excuse.  It is my duty to pursue the knowledge that I do not have. It is my duty to know what day it is and what is on my schedule for that day.   It is my duty to know when your birthday is and what you’d like to do.  It is my duty to know your size if I want to buy you an article for clothing for your birthday.

How often we take refuge in our ignorance!  It is a wonder just how much we rely on the exit ‘I did not know’ or ‘I forgot’ provides for us.  In relationship to the Divine it is not an acceptable excuse.  Neither should it be in our most primary relationships.

Not being conscious is considered a particular kind of misstep, with its own particular causes and effects, as well its own remedies.  The offering brought is female – either a goat or a lamb.  The female offering implies that there already is a vision or idea available, but it is coupled with an inability to incorporate it because of a flaw in the material of the receiver.  The conversation or interaction represented by this chatat offering will revolve around the reason why I forget what I need to know, or do not pursue the knowledge I need.

Furthermore, when the blood is sprinkled, it is sprinkled on the altar, meaning there was access to wisdom from above, and that wisdom was fully capable of reaching the individual, but something in the individual’s own heart prevented him or her from receiving it.  Both of these imply flaws on the part of the receiver, as noted above.  This is a time to take responsibility, rather than claiming it was impossible to attain the necessary information.  It takes great courage - and is actually quite relieving - to admit to being unconscious, and to recognize that it is both necessary and within reach to become more conscious.

A further detail of the chatat is the blood being put on the four corners of the altar.  R’ Kook writes that the four compass points as represented in the altar represent the four compass points of the entire world.  Thus, when the Kohen would rise up to do the work of bringing atonement for a specific situation, he has the opportunity to bring fixing on a much larger scale.  In the local sense, the mending of a specific violation of the relationship has the capacity to repair much larger aspects of the relationship - forgetting a birthday, for example, can point toward a much deeper discussion.

The Kohen would walk up the altar’s ramp, dip his finger into the bowl of blood, and place a bit of blood on the northeast, southeast, southwest, and northwest corners of the altar.  Rav Kook sees this as a process of rising up toward wisdom.  Wisdom brings with it the shine (east, as the word mizrach is rooted in zarach – shone) that is Torah – that is to say, a clearer understanding of what needs to be done.  With this clearer understanding comes the illumination of what went wrong, along with the hidden light within what went wrong, which then brings a person to the west, which is the presence of G-d.

It is an elegant reading – climbing the ramp echoes the olah, which offers the opportunity to rise to a new level of understanding that will clear a path forward.  The key, however, is the need to ‘shed light’ on the hidden factors that lead to unconsciousness, which will bring the relationship back into the feeling of Presence.

The choice of whether to bring a goat or a lamb would depend on the reason why the person was unable to achieve necessary levels of awareness.  Is the problem simply remedied through an adjustment of sensibilities and priorities, which would require only a lamb, or does it require a more systemic change, requiring a goat?  The Torah mentions the possibility of the goat first.  From this we might learn that, more often than not, unconsciousness implies a need for systemic change.  The search for the roots of unconsciousness can take us quite deep into the ground and may indicate a need for extremely deep work.  Our chatat offering is the beginning of that conversation.

The Asham – guilt offering part I

According to Ibn Ezra, the asham offering comes to atone for one who once knew that something is forbidden, but forgot.  What is worse – not ever knowing, or knowing and forgetting?  According to Pirkei Avot (3:8), one who learns Torah and then forgets it is ‘liable for his soul’.  But this is only true if he truly absorbed and integrated the information.

When we apply this rule to important relationships, they both seem rather ‘punishable’ – whether I once knew it and forgot it, or whether I never really came to know it well, both situations imply a certain negligence on my part.  Why didn’t I absorb the information you needed me to absorb?  Or how could I forget it?

More specifically, however, some asham offerings come to atone for a situation in which the person forgets whether he or she did something wrong.  This is of course equally strange - expectations in sacred relationships are high.  In relationship to the Divine, it is quite fair to expect us to remember our obligations, to be fully prepared to address wrong-doing or misstep, and to take steps to fix the relationship in the most effective way possible.  The sacred relationship of marriage is no different.

When we have an asham conversation or interaction, we are addressing issues of caring for the other.  Like with the chatat, we are acknowledging and addressing fundamental issues of self-centeredness and the memory lapses it brings.  This is one of the most central and difficult of all existential entanglements, and any movement we have toward overcoming this powerful force brings great blessing to our shared and individual lives.