Will there be Animal Sacrifices in the Third Temple?

This is a question my third grader often asks me - I am happy to share Shlomo Brody's response in the Jpost.
_________________________

Ask The Rabbi: Making a Sacrifice 
Shlomo Brody - Published 16/7/2013

Q:  Can we pray for the rebuilding of the Temple without wanting the restoration of animal sacrifices? Does God really expect us to slaughter animals in the Temple? - H.W., Houston 

A:  When I was an active member of Harvard Hillel, I always found it interesting to compare the various prayer books of the groups that prayed in the same building. Flipping through them, one could see that the answer to your question might depend on what siddur you use, as the denominations sharply disagree over the potential abrogation of animal sacrifices in the messianic era. In the 19th century, Reform siddurim excised all references to the Temple and sacrifices, deeming them primitive and uncouth for their progressive temples (modern synagogues). Recent Conservative siddurim have also omitted prayers to restore sacrifices, although many allude to them (in the past tense) within prayers for the rebuilding of the Temple. Orthodox Jews, on the other hand, continue to pray in numerous contexts for the complete restoration of the Temple service. This debate relates to a larger question regarding the abrogation of biblical mitzvot in the messianic era. In his 13 Principles of Faith, Maimonides (12th century, Spain/Egypt) interpreted the Torah's prohibition of adding or subtracting commandments (Deuteronomy 4:2) to mean that following Sinai, even a prophet cannot nullify or add to the 613 commandments. In the messianic era, he asserts, Jews will reinstate all dormant mitzvot, including Temple sacrifices (Hilchot Melachim 11:1-3). Maimonides seemingly bases this dogma on a rabbinic assertion that prophets cannot institute new commandments (Sifra Behukotai 8:7) Nonetheless, as Prof. Marc Shapiro has shown, a few scholars challenged this dogma. Maimonides' most important detractors was the esteemed medieval philosopher R. Yosef Albo (Spain, d. 1444). Albo asserted that the Bible merely prohibits adding or subtracting to the details of the commandments, fearing that the changes will stem from foreign influences (Sefer Ha'ikarim 3:14). More fundamentally, he contended that God always retains the power to change the mitzvot, and that a bona fide prophet in the messianic era might one day receive such a declaration (3:19). He further suggested that this is particularly logical with regard to prohibitions, such as the proscription of consuming certain animal fats, whose historical logic has expired (3:16). This notion, shared by R. Ya'acov Emden (18th century, Germany), echoes earlier rabbinic texts that speak of the nullification of commandments in the messianic era (Nidda 61b, Midrash Tehillim 146). Interestingly, in Guide for the Perplexed, Maimonides stated that God only permitted animal sacrifices because the Israelites could not easily abandon the idolatrous religious culture of Egypt (3:32). Rather than banning them, God regulated the sacrifices, ordaining that they be directed exclusively toward Him and performed under specific circumstances. Comparing them to breast milk that a baby needs before eating on her own, Maimonides implies that the Jewish people will ultimately be weaned from sacrifices toward a different form of worship. This position seems to contradict the above-cited Maimonidean vision of an unchanged Halacha in the messianic era, and scholars have spilled much ink trying to resolve this tension. Moreover, Maimonides was severely criticized by the prominent legalist and exegete Nahmanides (13th century, Spain), who contended that animal sacrifices contain integral value, as seen from the fact that Abel, Noah and Abraham offered sacrifices long before the Israelites descended to Egypt (Leviticus 1:9). Nahmanides further asserted that sacrifices have integral meaning and mystical significance, a position shared by many classic rabbinic figures. Zionism renewed interest in this topic, even as the issue remained entirely theoretical. Though the majority of Orthodox rabbis continue to believe in the restoration of sacrifices in a rebuilt Temple, two prominent religious Zionist rabbis, R. Abraham I. Kook (d. 1935) and R. Haim D. Halevi (d.1998), both asserted that at some point in the messianic era, Jews will only offer sacrifices from grains, but not from animals. This position resonates with a rabbinic dictum that with the exception of the thanksgiving offering, sacrifices will be nullified in the messianic era (Leviticus Rabba 9:7), although this passage has been differently interpreted by others. One less prominent yet fascinating American rabbi, R. Haim Hirschensohn (d. 1935), went further, contending that modern religious Jews will not be able to adapt to the sacrificial culture and that therefore a future Temple will not restore sacrifices. Interestingly, R. Kook himself ostracized R. Hirschensohn, claiming that he was overly influenced by Western thought, and that it was preferable to believe that the complete sacrificial order will be restored (Igrot Hare'iya 4:994). In a separate essay promoting vegetarianism, R. Kook further challenged modern critics of sacrifices for hypocritically failing to abstain from slaughtering animals for their mundane dietary needs. This intricate array of factors makes this a fascinating topic in Judaism's vision for the future of religious worship. 

The writer, editor of TraditionOnline.org, teaches at Yeshivat Hakotel and is pursuing a doctorate in Jewish philosophy in Hebrew University.  JPostRabbi@yahoo.com

Moving Davening off your Checklist

In a recent bookjed review of We're Missing the Point: What's Wrong with the Orthodox Jewish Community and How to Fix It by Gidon Rothstein, Franics Nataf writes:

In We’re Missing the Point, Rothstein correctly tells us that much of the Orthodox community has lost its way. Echoing A. J. Heschel's castigation of our community as pan-halachic, he writes that by becoming "checklisters and ritualists," we not only miss the forest from the trees but are not even able to differentiate between big trees and small trees. His answer is to try to identify a blueprint of the goals of Judaism and explain how various mitzvot connect with these goals. As he writes in his introduction, such an agenda should be obvious and to this reader it was. Yet I am reminded of the introduction of Messilat Yesharim which says the same and yet became a classic for much the same reason one would like to see the current work become a classic – because people often ignore the obvious.

I would go one step further and suggest that many of the fights that are raging between various sectors of Orthodoxy would be less divisive if halacha was viewed contextually as Rothstein suggests. By this, I mean that the community would do well to understand more overtly that we should not see our aim as doing a particular mitzvah per se, but rather achieving the goal it – as part of a larger system – is supposed to accomplish. Were that the case, Orthodox feminists would likely feel less desperate to legitimate women’s participation in all sorts of mitzvot that remain controversial. At the same time, more conservative elements would likely get less hot under the collar if certain communities struck a certain halachic position that allowed such participation.

I haven't read the original work by Rothstein, but I think that Nataf's comments must cause us pause about the trending over ritualization of our teffilot. I once heard it said that the conservative streams of Judaism overly emphasize structure and lack a proper teaching of the spirit while the liberal streams overly emphasize the spirit but lack the proper teaching of structure - how can we practice, teach and maintain this balance?  This is at the top of my checklist!

Davening at 40,000 Feet

Everyone who has flown to Israel, usually on El Al but not exclusively, has a davening story. Whether it was being surrounded by shucklers, awoken with a request to join a minyan, attacked by a bag when someone opens the overhead compartment to take out their tallit and tefillin, or just mesmerized but the struggles of people to pass the beverage cart to get to or from their seats for a minyan.  And these are just anecdotes from my most recent flight on El Al (which by the way does offer some tefilla guidelines).  By all time favorite anecdote was the religious woman next to the window who had a blush kit with a mirror and a special Tefilat Haderech engraved into the leather case.

I think that reading some rabbis responsas on travelling tefilla frames the character of prayer in general for the individual as they relate to the group of worshipers.  Rabbi Herschel Schachter refers to it as a common mistake people make when travelling by airplane.  He writes clearly in strong Orthodox terminology: 

Another common mistake people make is regarding davening with a minyan. The Talmud emphasizes the importance of tefillah btzibur; and one who davens with a minyan stands a much better chance of having his prayers answered than one who lacks a minyan. However, it is highly improper for the chazzan of a minyan on an airplane to shout at the top of his lungs to enable the other mispalelim to hear him over the airplane noise, and thereby wake up all the passengers around him. It is true that there is a halachic principle of kofin al hamitzvos, i.e. that beis din has an obligation to force people to observe the mitzvos even when they're not interested in doing so, but this only applies when pressuring an individual will result in his becoming observant. However, when Orthodox Jews disturb non-observant Jewish passengers with their davening, the non-observant passengers sill remain non-observant and now just have another point about which to be upset with the Orthodox. The practice of the Orthodox passengers under such circumstances appears simply as an act of harassment. Rather than having accomplished the hidur mitzvah of davening tefillah btzibur, they have violated lifnei iver by causing the non-observant passengers to become more antagonistic towards shemiras hamitzvos. The shouting tone of voice employed by the shaliach tzibbur to overcome the noise on the airplane clearly does not constitute a kavod hatefillah.

The halacha states that when traveling, if it is too difficult to stand for shemoneh esrei even the "amidah" may be recited while seated. On a short flight of an hour and a half to Canada, it is more correct to daven the entire tefillah while still buckled in, in a sitting position. On the long flight to Eretz Yisroel it is healthier not to sit the entire time; walking about somewhat helps the blood circulation in one's legs. As such, there is nothing wrong with standing for shemoneh esrei, provided that there's no turbulence at that time. However, it is still not proper to gather a minyan together near the washrooms, disturbing all the other passengers and the stewardesses. As much as various Torah giants of our generation have expressed their opposition to such minyanim on airplanes, their message has not yet been accepted. 

He concludes with a nice blessing for safe travels and then cautions "all those traveling to Eretz Yisroel should have a safe trip, but keep in mind - these minyanim are shelo b'ratzon chachamim!"  I find this last statement the most terrific sentiment - that by joining in these prayer groups one is violating the wisdom of the sages. This always seemed counter intuitive for those that feel pressed to daven out of obligation.  Another point worth noting is that some sages and rabbis disagree (Rabbi Chaim Pinchas Scheinberg to name one) and feel that there should be a minyan on the plane and that is a "preference" to join. I also enjoyed reading the comments in the Yeshiva World News forum on this topic with some outstanding perspectives shared there.

Elli Fischer, in his blog On the Contrary discussed the topic at hand (posted in 2008) and points to a phenomenally challenging question of when to daven on plane:

 Are zmanim (halachic appointed times) calculated based on geographical realities or human realities? Is it about the place or the person?

I did witness to elderly men arguing about this last week, which in itself was bothering the passengers around them.

Let me conclude with a happy Chabad story of a man davening in front of 300 people in his bulkhead seat that will be more of an inspiration to daven, than answer where or when you should do daven.  

Review: Jewish Prayer the Right Way

This original review was published in Bookjed Digest 106

Davening is one of those things in life that definitely gets better with age.  Teaching people how to daven is also easier talked about than  practiced and is often left to modeling (watching how other people preform) or reading literature on tefilla.  While there are many works that complement the siddur, reading Rabbi J. Simcha Cohen’s Jewish Prayer the Right Way: Resolving Halachic Dilemmas (Urim Publications 2012) one discovers an easily digestible resource and an important addition to an educator’s library.

Cohen’s style of writing is extremely clear and the queries presented on each aspect of tefillalend to excellent trigger topics for formal and informal educators looking to prepare for activities.  I could almost hear how such a book was developed out of a tefilla course given at a high school or from mini-lecture between mincha/maariv in a local shul.  This work reflects both Cohen’s scholarly and rabbinic pedigree and his keen eye for what resonates with contemporary readers.   Topics range from “The Chazzan’s Place” and “Prayers for Luxury” to “Kaddish for a Gentile Parent” and “Davening on the Airplane”.

One shortfall of this work, I found, was in the title.  In proclaiming what appears to be his series of “the Right Way” Cohen seems to be espousing that there is a single halachic answer to each question presented, whereas in my personal experience and paying close attention to several excerpts in this book, there is sometimes no clear answer to conclude.   As some of the questions do address issues of minhag I found the scent of this authoritarian angle to misrepresent what the goal of writing this was to do.  This title clause does not however detract from the bountiful research within the binding but I would have liked to read more in the introduction from the author on this issue.

Another curiosity in reviewing this book was the quiet side stepping of clearly more controversial tefilla issues.   The closest you get to a question in the neighborhood of feminism is “Women Davening in Synagogues”.  Cohen does address, in the sub chapter on “Kavod Hatzibur”, of woman being called up to the Torah but does not reference any possible impact or contextualization and concludes with a short one sentence paragraph stating that “it would be a breach of Jewish law and tradition for any congregation to assume that they have the authority to annul the ordinance of the Talmudic Sages prohibiting women from being called up for analiyah” (241).  In the most objective manner that I can write, I would like to have seen the issue addressed in a more practical application.

Overall,  Jewish Prayer the Right Way offers a rich reading on the topic of tefilla and should be acquired by educators and readers who want to be enriched by the story of how religious law and life are intertwined.