The Pain, the Pinch, and the Power of Offerings

Today, it’s tough to internalize the concept of an offering. We offer up a goat, a bull, a dove, but unfortunately, I don’t internalize the magnitude of what’s happening. My wife, who grew up on a farm, explained it to me.  

Imagine your favorite pet. It could be a dog or a cat. You raised him from birth. You fed it. You held him in your arms. You have petted him lovingly every day for years. You watched him grow up. You even learned his language – you know when he is happy, sad, or tired.  

He becomes an extended part of your family.  

Now, he has to die. You must take him to be a sacrificial offering in the Beit HaMikdash. It’s not his fault that his throat will be cut – it’s your fault. You committed a sin that requires an offering.  

Today, goats are milk and bulls are steak.  

To farmers, they are family.  

The Pain 

Today, less than 1% of Americans are farmers. Most of us have never met a farmer. Many of us have never been on a farm. We never saw a goat. We never knew a bull.  

In 1790, 90% of Americans were farmers. But, in 1850, two-thirds of Americans were farmers.¹  

We can safely assume that this was also the case in Europe and just about everywhere else. There was no electricity back then. No cars, trucks, or planes. No refrigeration. Food could not be transported over long distances, so every major city needed to be close to many farms as well as to lots of water.  

So back then, everyone knew a farmer. Everyone knew an animal. Horses were your means of transport, so you knew your horse – all his life. Farmers would bring cows, chickens, sheep, and many other animals into cities.  

Everyone knew how attached you could be to your animals. For us, it’s a dog or a cat; for them, it was cattle, sheep, or chickens.  

In the days of the Beit HaMikdash, when an animal was slaughtered, it was personal. It was also obvious. The animal was killed because you broke the Shabbat and needed to bring a sin-offering. You knew — without any doubt – that you were the reason why your beloved animal had to die.  

You felt the guilt. It motivated you to repent so something like this wouldn’t happen again.  

The Pinch 

Goats and cattle produce milk every day. Sheep produced wool. When their time came, you could use their flesh for meat and their skin for leather. An animal provided drink, food, and clothing.  

There was something else. 

Has a car ever given birth to a car? Did a smartphone ever give birth to another smartphone? 

Once a year, a goat would give birth to two goats. You purchase one, and after he returns your investment through milk and wool, he gives you two more . . . each year.  

When you have to sacrifice a goat, you are not only losing an asset, but you are also losing constant income. For a farmer, you are losing your means of survival. 

Imagine Larry Ellison having to repent by ceding 1% of his company and paying a billion dollars. It won’t destroy him, but he’ll stay awake a few nights agonizing over it.  

When King David reigned, about 80% were farmers. The Kohanim and Leviim served Hashem full-time, and in return they received a portion of the agricultural produce of the nation. When over 80% of the nation was made up of farmers, we can understand how the system worked.  

Klal Yisrael felt the pain and the pinch of every offering.  

The Power 

What about the Elevation Offering (Korban Oleh)²? What about the Thanksgiving Offering (Korban Todah)³? What about the holiday Offerings (Korban Chagigah/Korban Shelamim)⁴? 

When we offered our livestock to Hashem, we knew the great value of what we were giving to God. It was something that came from the heart. Real loss became a real sacrifice – giving our hard work, our sustenance, our own flock . . . 

We could feel what we were doing, and that is what made it a Korban, which is Hebrew for – moving closer to Hashem.  

Offerings were expensive. They were living beings. They were critical to our survival, and we  gave them to God simply because He tells us to.  We gave them to God knowing He wouldn’t let us starve. He won’t let us endure anything that wasn’t good for us. 

Struggling to See through Modern Blinders 

The past 150 years have blessed us with comfort and knowledge. They also come with side effects that we need to be aware of.  

The most dangerous side effect is that we have been blinded to Hashem. We have been blinded to some of the greatest motivations for the mitzvot.  

Looking back, not so long ago, we can uncover the essential meaning to the mitzvot that today’s age forces us to overlook. Today, our clothes come from the store. Our food comes from the restaurant, and our milk comes from the grocery.  

When something bad happens to us, like when something breaks, or we lose money, it’s harder to see the link between cause and the effect.  

Repentance and tzedakah cost whatever we want it to.  Offering a bull in the Beit HaMikdash meant you had to part with an animal that today costs $7,000!  

When we grasp the real value of sacrifice, we step into the footprints of Moshe, King David, and Rabbi Akiva — to rediscover the devotion that drove our nation to greatness. 

In this merit, may it be Hashem’s will that the Holy Temple be rebuilt speedily in our days, and that we once more offer upon His altar sacrifices born of righteousness and praise.   

*** 

David Ben Horin lives in Afula with his family, 60,000 passionate Israelis, the world’s best Hummus, and Matilda, our local camel. Follow his channel, The Conquest of Israel. 

Editor’s Notes:

¹ “History of Agriculture in the United States” from the series on the Economy of the United States 

² The animal is completely consumed on the altar. This offering demonstrates that our sole purpose is to devote ourselves completely to the service of G-d. 

³ The animal is brought by people who are thanking G-d for surviving life-threatening situations. 

⁴ The three holidays are Pesach, Sukkot and Shavuot. It is a mitzvah to go to the Beit HaMikdash for each of these Festivals and to offer a sacrifice there.