How do we clean the slate and move on?

Our ancient people made this process clear and predictable. In this week's Torah portion, Acharei Mot/Kiddushin (a double portion), the High Priest would approach the Holy of Holies on the tenth day of the seventh month to clean the slate for all the Israelites. It was, after all, Yom Kippur, and a powerful ritual was required for purifying the spirit our people. While the High Priest's ritual may seem mighty primitive to us, upon reflection, we can appreciate his intention.

The central action, as explained in Leviticus chapter 16, portrays the High Priest taking two live goats and casting lots over them. One goat was marked for "Adonai” and the other goat for "Azazel.” The goat marked for Adonai was slaughtered, and its blood sprinkled on the altar seven times. The High Priest then placed his hands on the head of the goat designated for Azazel and proceeded to confess all of the mistakes of the entire Hebrew community. These sins were transferred from the High Priest's mind and heart, through his hands, onto the head of the goat. This goat was then sent off into the wilderness, carrying with it the sins of the entire community.

Since this Azazel goat is sent away to perish in the wilderness, the word "scapegoat” has come to mean an innocent person (or people) who is blamed and punished for the sins, crimes or sufferings of others, generally as a way of distracting attention from the real cause.

We would like to think that this kind of scapegoat treatment ended eons ago, but alas, we have seen it over and over again, from our people being blamed by fascists regimes for economic woes to immigrants and those who are "other” being used as convenient outlets for irresponsible anger.

Why did our Biblical ancestors perform the ritual of Azazel? Why do we still look for a scapegoat for our problems? There is a human need to externalize conflict, to place the pain outside of ourselves and then destroy the evidence. And there are ways of doing this that are useful and don't harm anyone else.

Some of us are aware of techniques such as writing a letter to someone with whom there has been deep conflict and then, once completed, burning the letter. We even use that concretizing of transgressions when we, on Rosh Hashanah, endow small pieces of bread with our transgressions and toss them into the water for fish or birds to consume.

You and I both know that staying clean in our spiritual life requires more than externalizing inner conflict and destroying the evidence; it takes ongoing vigilance. One insight into how to keep our inner life from going foul is found in Leviticus chapter 19: 17–18. It has to do with keeping our communication clear with people closest to us. It reads:

You shall not hate your neighbor in your heart. Reprove your neighbor but incur no guilt because of him or her. You shall not take vengeance or bear a grudge against your neighbor. Love your neighbor as yourself: I am Adonai.

With the courage to keep communication open, to listen more than we speak, we have the hope to live in balance without placing blame on the innocent. May we be blessed to take this Torah's message into our hearts: not to scapegoat, but rather to take more responsibility in our relationship and choices.

Shalom,

Rabbis Nancy and David