The Hand That Does Not Reach

Headshot of Gail Labovitz
Headshot of Gail Labovitz
Rabbi Gail Labovitz, PhD

Professor, Rabbinic Studies

Ziegler School of Rabbinic Studies

Rabbi Gail Labovitz, PhD, is Associate Professor of Rabbinic Literature and former Chair of the Department of Rabbinics for the Ziegler School of Rabbinic Studies. She also enjoys serving as the Ziegler School’s faculty advisor for “InterSem,” a dialogue program for students training for religious leadership at Jewish and Christian seminaries around the Los Angeles area. Dr. Labovitz formerly taught at the Jewish Theological Seminary of America (JTS) and the Academy for Jewish Religion in New York. Prior to joining the faculty at AJU, Dr. Labovitz worked as the Senior Research Analyst in Judaism for the Feminist Sexual Ethics Project at Brandeis University, and as the Coordinator for the Jewish Women’s Research Group, a project of the Women’s Studies Program at JTS. Rabbi Labovitz is also preparing a teshuva (rabbinic responsum) for consideration by the Committee on Jewish Law and Standards of the Rabbinical Assembly on whether a person who is unable to fast for medical reasons may nonetheless serve as a leader of communal prayer on Yom Kippur.

posted on April 3, 2019
Torah Reading
Haftarah Reading
Maftir Reading

We like to think of childbirth as miraculous and joyful (which we certainly hope it will be), but it is also

a bloody, painful, and sometimes dangerous process. Even today, after the advent of modern

medicine, women continue to face perilous complications and even the risk of death during

pregnancy and labor. It is thus not surprising, at least to me, that in the biblical world – as we see in

Chap. 12 of Leviticus, the opening of this week’s parashah, Tazriah – that giving birth was a source

of ritual impurity, which often marks proximity to blood and death, and that once a woman had

completed the process, she would be required to bring a sacrifice both to lift that impurity and to

mark having come through this awesome experience:



Lev. 12:6-7: On the completion of her period of purification, for either son or daughter, she shall bring

to the priest, at the entrance of the Tent of Meeting, a lamb in its first year for a burnt offering, and a

pigeon or a turtledove for a purification offering. He shall offer it before the Lord and make expiation

on her behalf…



It is true that while the basic concepts of impurity and sacrifice may make sense in the biblical

context, there are many questions about how these concepts are applied in this case, including the

length of the impurity (which is twice as long if the baby is female than if it is male) and why the

woman’s offering is for the purpose of “expiation,” rather than, let us say, Thanksgiving. However,

many scholars have already devoted much attention to these questions, so instead, I would like to

focus here on a different aspect of the laws of this sacrifice.



Although we will be soon singing at our seders about a goat purchased for a mere “2 zuzim,”

bringing even a small animal such as a sheep or goat for sacrifice could be a considerable expense

for an ordinary person in the ancient world, and hence the Torah ends the chapter and its discussion

of this topic by allowing for this modification to its original requirement:

Lev. 12:8 If, however, her means do not suffice for a sheep, she shall take two turtledoves or two

pigeons, one for a burnt offering and the other for a purification offering. The priest shall make

expiation on her behalf, and she shall be pure.



In fact, this is one of three examples in Lev. where the Torah makes such an exception. Lev. 5

addresses a person who has sinned accidentally through a lapse of memory (as for example

forgetting having come into contact with a source of ritual impurity and therefore contaminating

something else, or having made an oath and therefore violating it) but later realizes their error. The

prescribed atonement for such an inadvertent sin is a sacrifice of a female sheep or goat, but:

Lev. 5:7 …if his means do not suffice for a sheep, he shall bring to the Lord, as his penalty for that of

which he is guilty, two turtledoves or two pigeons, one for a purification offering and the other for a

burnt offering.



Indeed, 5:11 even allows for the possibility that the sinner won’t even be able to afford a bird offering

and substitutes a grain offering in such a case instead. Similarly, in Lev. 14 (which we will read next

week), a person who has recovered from the skin disease known in the bible as “tzara’at” is

expected to bring three lambs (two male and one female) for the final purification process, but once

again:



Lev. 14:21-22 If, however, he is poor and his means are insufficient, he shall take one male lamb for

a reparation offering… and two turtledoves or two pigeons, depending on his means, one to be the

purification offering and the other the burnt offering.



What is also noteworthy is that in each of these cases, sufficiency or lack is characterized through

Hebrew phrases that literally translated speak of the “reach” of someone’s hand: “im lo tagi’ah yado/if

his hand does not arrive at” (5:7); “im lo timtzah yada/if her hand does not find” (12:8); “v’en yado

maseget/and his hand does not reach (far enough)” (14:21; see also 5:11).



Moreover, given that the first two of these are nearly identical in language (the verbs are different but

function in a similar manner), the earliest rabbinic commentary to Lev. makes the identical comment

to both, other than that one is framed in the masculine and the other feminine, as in the verses:

One does not say to him/her to borrow [the money] or to work at his/her craft [to eventually earn

enough].



That is a person who cannot at this moment afford the “regular” sacrifice is not to be delayed, or

shamed or compelled into incurring an obligation beyond that person’s current means. And, in fact,

the rabbis take this one step further:



If s/he has a lamb but does not have [its/his] needs, from [in the verse do we know that] s/he brings

the poor person’s sacrifice? This is what it says: “enough for a lamb.”



This can be understood in (at least) two ways. One possibility is that the person can afford the lamb,

but not the accompanying items that typically should be brought with an animal sacrifice (such as

wine for libations – that is, “its,” the sacrifice’s, needs) – and thus is exempted from sacrificing the

lamb, so as not to have to incur the additional outlay. The other is that the lamb itself currently

represents the person’s needs; i.e., the sum of the person’s wealth and economic welfare are

invested in the ownership of the lamb and its earning potential, and without it the person would risk

impoverishment. Surely this person should not be required to sacrifice the lamb nonetheless. In

either understanding, the same theme continues: where God has allowed for mercy and

understanding of a person’s circumstances, so that no one be deprived of an opportunity for

atonement, purification, re-admittance into the fullness of the community and its rites, so too the

human beings who administer the sacrificial system must be attentive and merciful and flexible

enough to treat each person as they are.



A similar concern, with another possible resolution, also appears in our special maftir reading this

week for Shabbat haHodesh, which we read each year on the Shabbat before or (as is the case this

year) of Rosh Hodesh Nisan, in preparation for Passover. The passage we read, Ex. 12:1-20, begins

by indicating that Nisan will become the first month of the Jewish calendar (yes, even if our New

Year, Rosh Hashanah takes place in the seventh month, Tishrei) – hence the reason we read it at

this occasion. It then turns to the commandment for the Israelites to perform the first-ever Passover

sacrifice, a prerequisite to the communal redemption from slavery that is imminent:

Ex. 12:3 …on the tenth of this month each of them shall take a lamb to a family, a lamb to a

household.



And as in our cases in Lev., this is immediately followed by an important qualification:

Ex. 12:4 But if the household is too small for a lamb, let him share one with a neighbor who dwells

nearby…



The most basic, literalist meaning of the verse is that the household has too few members to be able

to consume an entire lamb themselves. But here I want to make note of the commentary in Etz

Hayyim, which in turn paraphrases the commentary of Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch, a German

rabbi of the nineteenth century:



…Pesah, although a family celebration, is not to be observed in isolation. It is an occasion for

families to join with other families and create a community. More than the poor need the rich, the rich

need the poor. Let those whose households are too small to absorb all the blessings that God has

given them seek out their neighbors and share the bounty with them.



Those who have the means to acquire more than they themselves can consume (because their

household is small in numbers) should take in and provide for others. And I would suggest, the other

side of the same coin is that when a family is small in means, unable to provide for their own lamb, it

is the responsibility of others in the community to be sure they are nonetheless included among and

together with other households.



There is a careful and crucial balance being struck in both Ex. and Lev., in both these means of

making participation possible for all. In both, persons of limited means are not exempted from the

ritual. Atonement, purity, redemption – these do demand something of us, every one of us, an

investment, a sacrifice. But where accommodations can be made to ensure everyone has the ability

to participate, where some might not be able to participate otherwise, these accommodations must

be made.



We are approaching the holiday that celebrates the redemptive power of God’s “mighty hand and

outstretched arm” – but we do so amidst human beings whose hands cannot always attain the

means they need. May we follow the Divine commands of Ex. and Lev. so that every person will be

able to participate without being shamed or stretched beyond their limits, yet can also each be

proudly invested in their own and the community’s liberation.



Shabbat Shalom (and Hodesh tov)!