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In our efforts to embrace the good, we need to confront the evil as well. Lessons for Today
Aaron is to offer his own bull of sin offering, to make expiation for himself and for his household. Aaron shall take the two he-goats and let them stand before the Eternal at the entrance of the Tent of Meeting; and he shall place lots upon the two goats, one marked for the Eternal and the other marked for Azazel. Aaron shall bring forward the goat designated by lot for the Eternal, which he is to offer as a sin offering; while the goat designated by lot for Azazel shall be left standing alive before the Eternal, to make expiation with it and to send it off to the wilderness for Azazel. (Leviticus 16:6-10)
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Rabbi W. Gunther Plaut writes:
The most embarrassing feature of the ancient ritual [of Yom Kippur] is the sending of the "scape-goat" to Azazel. The latter was probably a demonic being, residing in the desert, whose abode was regarded as a focus of impurity. Various efforts were made to avoid this embarrassment. The old Greek translation takes azazel as a common noun meaning "dismissal." Others rendered the word "steep mountain," or "goat that departs," or understood Azazel to be the name of a place.
These apologetic efforts are not convincing. For apocryphal Jewish works, composed in the last few centuries before the Christian era, tell of angels who were lured by beautiful women into lust and, ultimately, into rebellion against God. In these writings, Azazel is one of the two leaders of the rebellion. And post Talmudic documents tell a similar story about two rebel angels, Uzza and Azzael - both variations of the names Azazel. These mythological stories, which must have been widely known, seem to confirm the essentially demonic character of the old biblical Azazel.
W. Gunther Plaut Ed., The Torah - A Modern Commentary (New York: Union of American Hebrew Congregations, 1981), p.859.
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Tz'enah Ur'enah, the classic Yiddish anthology of midrash and folklore on the weekly parashah, explains Azazel this way:
"Two goats were taken on Yom Kippur for sacrifice; one was sacrificed to God, the other sent, living, into the desert.
The Midrash says that one was sent into the desert as a "bribe" to Satan, so that he should not speak ill against Israel.
When Satan sees Israel repenting on Yom Kippur, and feeling true sorrow for their sins, he tells God: "You have one nation on the earth which resembles angels. Just as angels wear no shoes, they too wear no shoes on Yom Kippur. Just as angels do not eat or drink, neither does Israel on Yom Kippur. Just as angels have no joints in their knees and perpetually stand on their feet, so does Israel stand the entire day of Yom Kippur. Just as there is peace among the angels, so there is peace within Israel on Yom Kippur. Just as the angels have no sin within them, so is Israel free of sin on Yom Kippur."
When God hears the words of Satan, and how highly he speaks of Israel, God forgives them all of their sins.
Satan is called Samael because he is deadly poison - sam hamavet - to humankind. But with this "bribe" his eyes are blinded, as the verse says, "For a bribe blinds the eyes of the wise" (Deuteronomy 16:19)."
From Tz'enah Ur'enah - The Weekly Midrash (New York: Mesorah Publications, 1994), p.600.
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Nothing is more dramatic than the biblical forms of worship on the Day of Atonement. The day itself was full of awe and reverence, the highlight of the entire ritual year. It was the day that afforded the Israelites, both collectively and individually, the opportunity to settle its account with God. Those who were estranged from God had one more chance to restore their relationship.
However, the ancient rituals, which reflected the people's needs as much as God's requirements, contained some unusual elements. Many of these elements, contemporary scholars point out, were "borrowed" from a variety of earlier cultures and sources, and sometimes seem out of place in Israelite practice. Yet they remain in our Scriptures and they continue as part of our tradition It is incumbent, then, to understand how our tradition made meaning (or didn't) out of these odd traditions.
The ritual of the two goats on Yom Kippur remains as one of these unusual elements. This ritual has given name and meaning to the concept of the "scapegoat" which endures as the label for someone or something which is made to bear the blame for others. Jews particularly relate to this concept, as they have often been relegated to the role of the scapegoat by others throughout their history.
However, it is not the actual concept of the scapegoat itself that gives us pause to question. Jews have always been comfortable with the notion of transmission of sin, and these type of customs continue to be practices by many Jews to this day in the rituals of Kapparot and Tashlich. And, in all of these cases, it is clearly understood that this is simply a symbolic act, that passing on one's "sins" to an animal or inanimate object does not absolve one of sin, and individuals must still do all the work necessary themselves to complete Teshuvah (repentance).
What does draw the attention of both the classical commentators and contemporary scholars is what is done with the second goat. The first is sacrificed as a sin offering in a manner that is completely consistent with all other routine sin offerings. But the second goat is left alive, and is released out into the wilderness, designated, as the text tells us, for Azazel. This is the unusual part; who, or what, is "Azazel"?
Most translations leave Azazel untranslated, reflected the tradition that we do not really know what this is. As Plaut indicates, and as our commentary from Tz'enah Ur'enah exemplifies, different teachers and commentators have tried to explain what Azazel is, in a manner that does not create any dissonance with mainstream Israelite teachings. Some have identified it as a proper noun, indicating a place name or referring to a geographic detail ("steep mountain" or "rocky cliff," implying that the goat was eventually killed by wandering off a high point). Others try and connect Azazel with the role of the goat itself ("dismissal").
But, as Plaut demonstrates, Azazel seems to be a remnant in the Torah of earlier traditions about demons and rebel angels, stories that did not make it into mainstream Jewish teaching, but which surely continued to exist in esoteric teachings, superstition and folklore. The goat that is designated for Azazel then becomes an effort to appease evil forces, at a time when the Israelites were seeking forgiveness from God and, seemingly, trying to cover all their bases.
But what's the problem with a demonic Azazel? The two goat ritual, with one sacrificed to appease God (who is good and forgiving) and one sent as an offering to an evil Azazel, presents a theological model of dualism, with opposing forces of good and evil. This runs strikingly contrary to the essential Jewish concept of the singularity and unity of God. This is the idea that is expressed in the Shma, which Jews say many times daily. The God of Israel is the creator of everything, and therefore is creator and source of evil as well as good. This is not to say that God is the God of evil, but rather the creator of all, and the force behind the balance of the universe. The idea that Israelites in the Bible would engage in rituals that represents dualistic worship practices is profoundly out of step with the common teachings of the Torah, and is, for many, as Plaut so strongly expresses, "embarrassing".
Lessons for Today
It seems that this Yom Kippur ritual, given to Israel when they were in the wilderness and still freshly out of Egypt, represents that period when the Israelites were not yet fully monotheistic - believing in the existence of one god - but rather are maintaining a belief based more on monolatry - believing in the superiority of one god over many. This idea of monolatry is also expressed in the words that the Israelites sang after the miracle of the parting of the Sea of Reeds: Mi chamocha b'elim, Adonai? - "Who is like you, Eternal One, among the gods?" (Exodus 22:11). Coming out of the polytheistic environment of Egypt, the Israelites entered into the Covenant at Sinai with their one patron God, but it was going to take some time for them to adjust to the fully monotheistic idea of the existence of just one God.
So what do we do with the dualistic notion of Azazel today? Well, fortunately, we do not have to actually do much, since this ritual is not longer practised, along with all other forms of Israelite sacrificial worship. But it is still part of our tradition, there in Torah for us to consider. What meaning can we draw from the goat designated for Azazel?
We can simply understand it, as Plaut presents, as part of the historical development of our people. We have, as a people of faith, gone though many different stages of belief and practice, and our relationship with God, and our understanding of God, continues to evolve. Evil exists in the world. In some ways, it would be theologically easier to blame it on an opposing demonic force, rather than try and figure out how God can allow it to happen. But we do not continue to maintain that type of belief, and our theology may be much more complex as a result, but ultimately, and hopefully, it helps us understand better the ways of God and the world around us.
In the end, especially at the time of year when we are considering our own personal shortcomings and are struggling to do repentance and make ourselves into better people, it helps in our self analysis to separate out the good from the evil. We are not all good, God knows, but we are not all bad either. As we seek to "afflict our souls," it is easy to forget the good, while we focus on the bad. In many ways, the dualistic ritual of the two goats presents us with a model of self reflection that represents not two opposing forces in struggle with one another, but rather two sides of the same coin; two aspects of the self same God, and two aspects of ourselves. Azazel is a metaphor for evil, but not a demonic evil that is distinct from good. Rather, it is the natural evil that exists in the world, and that we struggle with every day. In our efforts to embrace the good, we need to confront the evil as well.
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