By Joel Stern, May 2, 2026
I usually like to begin a drash with some kind of origami configuration that illuminates one of the themes of the parasha. However, in this case, it was hard to come up with a paper model that reflected themes such as ritual defilement, prostitution, profaning of the priesthood, and physical defects and blemishes.
Maybe next year.
In the meantime, you’ll just have to visualize as best as you can.
What is a blemish? a noticeable imperfection, especially: one that seriously impairs appearance.
Blemish in Hebrew is “moom.” Our Parasha, chapter 21, verses 16-24, lists a set of physical blemishes and defects, such as: one who is blind, or lame, or has a limb too short or too long, a broken leg or broken arm, etc. If a Kohen has ANY of them, he is prohibited
לְהַקְרִ֖יב לֶ֥חֶם אֱלֹהָֽיו
“from offering the food of his God,” as well as
לְהַקְרִ֖יב אֶת־אִשֵּׁ֣י יְהֹוָ֑ה
“from presenting God’s offering by fire.”
He may eat of the food, but…
אֶל־הַפָּרֹ֜כֶת לֹ֣א יָבֹ֗א וְאֶל־הַמִּזְבֵּ֛חַ לֹ֥א יִגַּ֖שׁ
He may not come to the curtain, nor may he approach the altar.
What is going on here? Why does our Torah prohibit priests with bodily defects to perform sacred acts in the Mishkan? Why is the priest’s physical appearance important? I always thought that in our tradition, what is in our hearts, and the deeds we perform, are what are essential.
After all, in Pirke Avot chapter 4 it says:
רַבִּי אוֹמֵר, אַל תִּסְתַּכֵּל בַּקַּנְקַן, אֶלָּא בְמַה שֶּׁיֶּשׁ בּוֹ
“Rabbi said: don’t look at the container but at that which is in it.”
And in I Samuel 16:7 it says,
כִּ֣י לֹ֗א אֲשֶׁ֤ר יִרְאֶה֙ הָאָדָ֔ם כִּ֤י הָאָדָם֙ יִרְאֶ֣ה לַעֵינַ֔יִם וַיהֹוָ֖ה יִרְאֶ֥ה לַלֵּבָֽב׃
“For [GOD sees] not as humans see; humans see only what is visible, but GOD sees into the heart.”
I looked to our traditional commentators for answers that might justify this seeming contradiction of Jewish values.
Here’s what Rashi says, quoting the prophet Malachi:
וְכִי־תַגִּישׁ֨וּן עִוֵּ֤ר לִזְבֹּ֙חַ֙ אֵ֣ין רָ֔ע!? וְכִ֥י תַגִּ֛ישׁוּ פִּסֵּ֥חַ וְחֹלֶ֖ה אֵ֣ין רָ֑ע!? הַקְרִיבֵ֨הוּ נָ֜א לְפֶחָתֶ֗ךָ!? הֲיִרְצְךָ֙ א֚וֹ הֲיִשָּׂ֣א פָנֶ֔יךָ
“When you present a blind animal for sacrifice—it doesn’t matter? When you present a lame or sick one—it doesn’t matter? Just offer it to your governor: Will he accept YOU? Will he show you favor?”
By quoting Malachi, Rashi rationalizes that a “moom,” a physical defect in the one who MAKES an offering, is just as bad as a defect in the offering ITSELF. It shows a lack of respect for the recipient. If a GOVERNOR would be insulted by an offering from someone with a “moom,” how much more so would GOD.
Ramban and Ibn Ezra, on the other hand, have a different take on this passage. Ramban suggests that bodily defects render the Kohen unfit for service because they are a reflection of the SPIRITUAL defects that he might have. Similarly, Ibn Ezra says: The meaning of “moom,” “has a blemish,” is similar to “he has cursed his father or his mother.” In other words, Ibn Ezra understands “blemish” as a MORAL stain, equivalent to someone who has broken the fifth commandment.
None of these commentaries – by Rashi, Ramban, or Ibn Ezra – satisfied me. These were rationales, not explanations.
Then – I happened upon Rabbi Jonathan Sacks’ essay “Eternity and Mortality.” He gave me a different insight into this strange prohibition.
Rabbi Sacks first has us understand the concept of the “holy.”
God is beyond space and time. We – mortal beings – OCCUPY space and time. God established the “holy” as the point at which the Eternal enters time, and the Infinite enters space. Holy TIME is Shabbat. Holy SPACE was the Mishkan, and later, the Temple.
The “holy” was the point at which heaven and earth met. One could only experience the “holy” by intense focus, along with a complete absence of earthly concerns of physicality. Under such conditions, one could feel part of something that did not die, and could feel as being held within the “everlasting arms” of God.
According to Rabbi Sacks, this injunction to prohibit a “blemished” Kohen from service, served to remove any reminders of mortality, of physicality, so that the holy – that which was immortal, or eternal – could be experienced.
Though it’s hard for me NOT to focus on the unfairness of this sanction, as well as on the indignant feelings of a disqualified Kohen, I appreciated what Rabbi Sacks was trying to do on an intellectual level, and on a mystical level.
However, bringing this back down to Earth, I want to suggest ANOTHER way to bring holiness into the world that we live in today.
I remember a number of years ago, a prominent rabbi in our community was undergoing chemotherapy for lymphoma, and had lost all his hair. On his first Shabbat back at his synagogue, it was clear that many found his appearance jarring, which he acknowledged from the bimah. But his courage, and the communal empathy and understanding for the challenges he was facing, brought holiness to that space.
As in this example, the “holy” can be found in moments of empathy, and of understanding, and of love. THESE are the moments when the infinite, the spiritual, enters and transforms our finite, physical existence into a “holy” one.
How do WE create holy spaces, and sacred moments, in our OWN homes and lives? What role does awareness of our mortal physicality play in focusing us toward – or distracting us from – attaining spiritual heights? Questions to ponder at your Shabbat table!
Shabbat Shalom!