The two goats sacrificed on Yom Kippur are a phenomenon with which we are familiar. But what can their sacrifice teach us? What lies behind the Torah narrative. Here Hanassi member Rabbi Paul Bloom takes a deeper look.
Two
Goats, One Truth: Lessons from Parashat Acharei Mot
This week’s Torah reading presents a rich
overlap: Acharei Mot and Kedoshim are
often read together in a non-leap year, creating an expansive canvas of mitzvot
and spiritual lessons. I’d like to focus on a fascinating insight from Acharei Mot.
The Yom Kippur
Service—And a Hidden Revelation
An illuminating comment by the Vilna Gaon
reveals something subtle yet profound. Although we instinctively associate this
passage with Yom Kippur, the Torah only mentions Yom Kippur explicitly after describing the ritual. The
verses describe Aaron’s entry into the Holy of Holies in great detail—yet only
conclude by saying "And this shall be the service of Yom Kippur for all
generations."
The Vilna Gaon explains: During the 40
years in the wilderness, Aaron HaKohen was permitted to enter the Kodesh
HaKodashim on any day of the year—as
long as he performed the full ritual described. It was only for subsequent
generations that this service became limited to Yom Kippur.
Some commentators tie this exceptional
status to Aaron’s unique character as a relentless pursuer of peace. His
personal sanctity was so elevated that every day of his service bore the holiness of Yom Kippur. This
insight, once noticed, becomes strikingly clear from the text—and reminds us of
the immense spiritual power of the individual tzaddik.
The Scapegoat: The Most
Potent Act of Atonement
Among the numerous Yom Kippur rituals,
one might assume that the climax is the Kohen Gadol’s entry into the Holy of
Holies. Yet the Sages teach otherwise. The most powerful act of atonement does
not occur within the sacred confines of the Temple at all—but rather through
the mysterious ritual of the two goats.
The Torah instructs that two identical
goats—matching in appearance, size, and age—are brought before the Kohen Gadol.
Lots are drawn: one goat is designated "for God" and is sacrificed in
the Temple, while the other is sent into the wilderness—La’Azazel. This second goat is led far from the city and ultimately
pushed off a cliff, bearing, as the Torah describes, the sins of the Jewish
people.This raises profound theological questions. What is the meaning of
sending a goat to what seems to be a demonic force? Isn’t that dangerously
close to idolatry? Indeed, Chazal themselves seem uneasy with this and often
refer to it not as La’Azazel but
rather as the Se’ir HaMishtale’ach—the
goat that is simply "sent away."
Ramban’s Kabbalistic Lens
The Ramban, a great mystic, addresses the
symbolism directly. He explains that the goat to Azazel is a kind of bribe to the Satan. Using a vivid metaphor: imagine trying to enter the king’s palace
while ferocious guard dogs threaten to attack. To gain entry, you distract them
with a juicy steak, allowing you safe passage to the king.So too, says the
Ramban, the Se’ir La’Azazel distracts
the prosecuting angels—the cosmic forces that aim to obstruct our atonement. By
"feeding" them this goat, we gain unimpeded access to divine
forgiveness.
Rav Dessler’s
Psychological Reading
Rav Dessler offers a brilliant
psychological interpretation of this mystical idea. He points to a mitzvah in
the Torah: when besieging a city in war, we are commanded to leave an escape
route. The reason? When enemies feel cornered, they fight with desperate
ferocity; an escape option calms their defense.
Similarly, the Yetzer Hara—our inner
negative drive—fights hardest when it feels totally eradicated. If a person
declares, "I will never speak lashon hara (gossip) again," the inner
resistance becomes overwhelming. But if one says, "Today, until noon, I
will refrain," the challenge feels manageable, and over time, true
transformation can take root.
The scapegoat, then, symbolizes the wisdom of gradual growth and concessions—psychologically
"bribing" the Yetzer Hara to step aside as we strengthen our
spiritual muscles.
Rav Hirsch: The Illusion
of Freedom
Rav Samson Raphael Hirsch adds yet
another dimension. Imagine the scene from the goats’ perspective: the goat for
God is swiftly slaughtered and offered in sacred service, while the Azazel goat
embarks on what seems like a carefree journey into the wilderness. To the
unknowing eye, the latter appears "free" and unburdened.
Yet the end is stark: the goat to Azazel
meets a destructive fate, while the other achieves sanctity and purpose. Rav
Hirsch explains that this teaches a crucial life lesson. A life committed to
God may seem restrictive at first glance, but it leads to profound connection
and holiness. In contrast, a life of apparent freedom—disconnected from higher
purpose—ultimately ends in emptiness and ruin.
The dual readings of Acharei Mot and Kedoshim remind us
that holiness is found not only in ritual but in the way we live every day. The
mysterious goats of Yom Kippur symbolize deep truths: the power of incremental
growth, the importance of seeing beyond short-term illusions, and the ultimate
goal of aligning ourselves with God’s will.
May we internalize these lessons—finding strength in gradual spiritual progress and seeking true freedom through commitment and purpose.
