Reflections on Yom Kippur by Peter Beyfus
In the Book of Leviticus, chapter 16, we are given a description of the service performed on Yom Kippur by the Kohen Gadol, the High priest, in the Temple in Jerusalem. The climax of the service is when the high priest entered the kodesh Hakodoshim, the Holy of Holies. There he placed the ketoret, incense, containing eleven herbs and balms, over the burning coals and waited for the sanctum to fill with aromatic smoke, and then departed in haste.
Before this dramatic event, Aaron, the first High priest, selected by lot two he-goats, equal in age, size and appearance. Rashi informs us that the high priest, supported by two subordinates, took from a wooden case two labels, one inscribed “for the Lord” and the other “for Azazel”. The goat assigned to G-d was sacrificed as a sin-offering and the blood sprinkled on the ark-cover, which atoned for the holy places polluted because of the sins of the people. In verse 18 we are told the altar was atoned, or purified, by sprinkling on it the blood from a bullock and goat. This expiated the iniquities of the high priest and his family and restored the sacred places to G-d, but what of atonement for the ordinary Israelites? Enter the second goat, the one earmarked for Azazel. Unlike other offerings the goat was not slain. In Vayikra 1621-22 Aaron laid hands on it and confessed the sins of the congregation, thus transferring them to the goat’s head. The goat was then taken away and sent into the wilderness, bearing away the transgressions of the people. Later references in the Talmud elaborate this account by mentioning the attachment of a scarlet woollen thread to the head of the goat. After which various confessional prayers were said on behalf of the people. The creature was then taken into the desert, to a mountain, where the scarlet thread was divided in two, one of which was tied to the rock and the other to the goat’s horns, and then the animal was pushed down. The scarlet thread is symbolically referenced in Isaiah 118; and in the Talmud it states that during the forty years Simon the Righteous (3-2 centuries B.C.E.) was high priest, the thread turned white as soon as the goat was thrown over the precipice: a sign that the sins of the people were forgiven.
So much for the accounts in the Torah and Talmud, but who or what was Azazel? That is a question that has perplexed scholars to this very day. No explanation is found in the text, and the word ‘Azazel’ does not occur elsewhere in the Tanach. There is however a reference in the Apocrypha (Hidden Jewish Literature not included in the Hebrew Bible), in the Book of Enoch. Here Azazel is regarded as a fallen angel, perhaps Lucifer himself. Etymology does not help inform us that much either. Azazel is possibly a combination of two words: azaz, meaning angel; and el, meaning one of the names for G-d , or power. What Abraham Ibn Ezra (11-12 centuries B.C.E) hints at and Nachmanides clearly states, that Azazel belonged to a class of Se’irim, goat-like demons that haunted the desert, is now accepted by biblical scholars as credible. The desert, as those of you who have been to the Negev will know, can be a frightening place, with extremes of temperature, strange life forms, and certainly the possible abode of some pretty nasty deities.
Another approach is to apply Jungian psychology to the mystery of Azazel. In this context one may speculate that Azazel was G-d’s counter-part; his “shadow”. The notion of an all-loving G-d is not consistent with the portrayal of Him in the Torah. He demonstrates powerful emotions which we identify with anger, jealousy, cruelness. So we are left to ponder: (WHAT IS AZAZEL.A mystery of G- d: a pairing of opposite
Among ultra-Othodox Jews, kapparot, meaning atonement, is a custom preformed on the eve of Yom Kippur, in anticipation of the account of the scapegoat in Vaiyikra. In this ceremony a rooster is circled around the head three times before being ritually slaughtered and then given to the poor and needy. An acceptable alternative is to circle money around one’s head before donating it to the poor. This act of tzedakah and teshuvah has no direct basis in Torah, and generated much debate among the rabbis. Nachmanides, Shlomo ben Aderet and rabbi Joseph ben Ephraim Karo, the author of the Shulchan Aruch, perhaps the most important sources of current Orthodox Halacha, opposed this custom, arguing it was essentially un-Jewish. Needless-to-say, there were counter-arguments. Rabbi Moses Isserles, asserting the Ashkenazi tradition, accepted the practice as being meaningful, and the Kabbalist, Hasidim and others continue the ritual; and even the Sephardim, in a late nineteenth century work Kaf Hachaim, approved the custom for Sephardi Jews as well. There is, I think, a valid argument that to use a rooster, white or otherwise, is likely to cause distress to the bird, and so, on the basis of limiting animal cruelty, I favour the giving of alms to those less fortunate than ourselves.
The fact is we cannot transfer our shortcomings, sins, to others, be them goats or chickens, although in western society we tend to want to blame others for what we have failed to achieve. Facing up to our own failures is tough, but, if we are to be honest, it is the only way to grow as spiritual beings. The Yamim Noraim provide an opportunity to make amends for wrongs we may have committed against our friends, family or strangers; and to set right our relationship with G-d; whether we engage with the process of renewal is entirely up to us but each new year reminds us it is never too late to return to the right path.
We shall probably never discover the origins of Azazel and why our ancestors performed a complex ritual to appease what they perceived as a real threat. Yom Kippur challenges us to confront our own demons and drive them out by exposing them to the light of honesty. We no longer have a temple, officiated by a priestly clan that did intercede with G-d on our behalf, and the scapegoat is long since dead. We still use the word scapegoat, meaning literally escape goat, to avoid responsibility for our own actions. We have all blamed others for our own shortcomings, but, as we know all too well from history, when the blame-culture is politicised the consequences can be catastrophic.
May we be inscribed in the Book of Life for another year, and let us say amen.