Understanding the Se’ir L’Azazel
In Acharei Mos we learn about the service done on Yom Kippur by the kohen gadol. Among the tasks of the kohen gadol on this day is to take two se’irim (he-goats), one as an offering to Hashem, and the other to be sent “to Azazel.”
“Azazel” was a remote location in the desert, where the se’ir was brought and then pushed off of a cliff. Midway through his fall, the se’ir was crushed against a mountain. This is a most curious element of the Yom Kippur service, and stands out in sharp distinction from the usual manner in which animals are brought as offerings on the altar, after being slaughtered according to precise laws. The se’ir to Azazel seems an unusually cruel act. Moreover, the verses express that the se’ir to Azazel plays a role in gaining the Jewish People atonement for their sins. How does this work?
The Ramban (Vayikra 16:9) explains that deserts are places where evil spirits known as sheidim congregate (such spirits are much rarer today than in ancient times). These sheidim spoke against the Jewish People and try to wreak havoc upon the world. The gentiles of yore used to worship these evil spirits. The se’ir to Azazel, by contrast, was not a form of idolatry, but rather part of our service of Hashem, who commanded this for our benefit. This was to serve as a “gift” to the sheidim. This helped gain the Jews atonement, as it kept the sheidim from speaking against them on Yom Kippur, the day on which their fate for the year is sealed. Moreover, after receiving this gift, the sheidim would declare that the Jews were “like angels, devoid of sin.”
As for the cruel nature of the se’ir to Azazel, the Akeidas Yitzchak explains that this was an effective way of showing the Jews of ancient times the emptiness of idolatry. Perhaps some of them attributed the success of the gentiles to their avoda zara, and imagined that such practices were somewhat worthwhile, heaven forbid. To uproot these sinful thoughts, the se’ir is handled in a deliberately degrading manner (unlike the gentile practice of bringing sacrifices on altars to appease the desert sheidim). It is rushed to the desert, where it suffers a violent death, pushed off a cliff and smashed to pieces against the rocks. Moreover, the man who brings the se’ir to the desert becomes spiritually contaminated (Vayikra 16:27) — a detail found nowhere else in the laws of korbanos. This avoda had the effect of ridding the Jews of any delusions they might have harbored about the “power” of avoda zara. Avoda zara was shown to be a worthless, useless act that leads to death.
Today, most Jews have no illusions about avoda zara, but illusions still impede our service of Hashem. The imaginary lure of wealth or taava has tragically taken people entirely out of the realm of Torah observance. Others manage to remain observant despite harboring such illusions, but their avodas Hashem suffers because of them. Still others struggle needlessly against sadness because they are saddled with other illusions– “If only we had made aliya/stayed in America,” “If only I had stayed in kollel/went to college,” “If only I had gone to such-and-such yeshiva,” “If only I had married so-and-so,” etc. The common denominator is that they are languishing in a world of illusions.
The antidote is to understand that the only reality is avodas Hashem. All the rest is not true. The idea that happiness lies elsewhere — in a reality of greater wealth, taava, or in some location or occupation that Hashem did not give us — is an illusion, and success in avodas Hashem requires that we free ourselves of this.
How can we free ourselves from illusions?
An excellent bit of advice is to force these illusions out of the realm of thought. Thoughts have a way of remaining unscrutinized, and can lead a person astray even when they are patently untrue. Try writing them out, and then make sense of them. Even better, speak them out with a friend. The main thing is to realize that they are false and break free of them.
I once gave this advice in a shiur, and afterwards, a man came up to me and half-jokingly thanked me for my advice, but added that “for me, I have the opposite sort of illusions.” Seeing my confused look, he explained:
“I am a baal teshuva. Therefore, all of the standard illusions most frum people struggle with are for me no problem at all. Those who grew up observant can wonder to themselves, ‘maybe the irreligious really are happier.’ They may think to themselves that the grass is greener on the other side. I, however, am very familiar with that ‘other side’ and I know that the grass is not greener. In fact, the ‘other side’ has absolutely nothing to offer.
“The illusion I deal with is, ‘if only I had grown up frum.’ You see, things that come naturally to you are for me difficult and time-consuming. I hate to say it, but davening is a chore. I have to struggle through the Hebrew. And Gemara…? No vowels, no easy-to-use dictionary [this was before the Art Scroll series was published]. Every word is a struggle and I often find myself lost. Keeping mitzvos? It’s so against my nature and upbringing. I can’t tell you how hard it is to undo bad habits learned over decades. To break free of the illusion of ‘if only I had grown up frum,’ I have to get it into my head that Hashem put me in the best situation possible. For me, breaking my head on one line of Gemara — instead of flying through a whole page — is the service that Hashem wants from me.”
May we free ourselves of illusions and serve Hashem with joy!