Moshe Kline

Leviticus: The Ways of Holiness

Prologue

The Torah as a Whole

The Torah (Pentateuch) is much more coherent than it appears from a linear reading. The reason that it appears so inchoate is that we cannot easily see its structure. This is especially true of those sections that consist of lists of laws. In the narrative sections, for the most part, we can at least say that the text appears to be organized chronologically. However, temporal order is not a sufficient explanation for many of the larger questions concerning the nature of the Torah, such as: Why is the Torah divided into five books? What is the character of each book? How do they relate to each other and to the whole? If we add the questions of this sort to the perplexity engendered by the intermixing of laws and narrative, we are faced with a conundrum. Simply put, after more than three thousand years of study we know very little about the Torah as a whole. Leviticus: The Holy Ways is intended to contribute to the discussion of the Torah as a literary composition. I will demonstrate principles of organization that make it possible to read the Torah as a coherent document. The single most important finding that I will report is that the legal codes of the Torah are organized according to clear, albeit non-linear, principles. The reading that I will present is consistent with the broad area of Jewish learning know as “the oral Torah,” which is generally held to differ from the direct study of the Torah as a text, which is called “the written Torah.” My overall approach can be described as an attempt to reunite the oral Torah with the written Torah, or perhaps more precisely, to rediscover the oral Torah within the written Torah.

The Torah and the Mishnah

The “oral Torah” is in fact a vast literature that includes the Mishnah, the Talmud, and works of Midrash, as well as the mystical literature of the kabbalah. In discussing the relationship between this veritable sea of literature and the “written Torah,” I will limit myself to the Mishnah as my exemplar of the “oral Torah.” After extensive analysis of the literary structure of the Mishnah, I published a new edition of the Mishnah entitled Hamishnah C’darcah.[i] In it I present each chapter of the text of the Mishnah in the format of a table. This format makes it possible to visualize the inner relationships of the parts of the chapter.

It became quite clear from my study of the Mishnah, that the text is non-linear. The laws do not necessarily follow each other logically. Sometimes a block of two or three laws must be compared with another similar block in order to understand why the individual laws appear together. A linear presentation of the text actually distorts it. One can get the idea from the normal linear format that elements that follow each other in print also follow each other logically. This is one of the great pitfalls of reading the Mishnah. As we will see, it is also true of the Torah. Reading the laws of the Torah linearly can distort the inner relationships between the laws. Moreover, unless one is aware of the rules of the non-linear structure, it is virtually impossible to make sense of the ostensible “collections” of laws in the Torah. This is as true of the most basic collection of laws, the Decalogue, as it is of the most complex collection, the Book of Leviticus.

The specific discovery that I will demonstrate in this book is that the Torah organizes its laws according to the same principles of organization that are used in the Mishnah. Of course the previous sentence is totally unreasonable. The Mishnah was written well over a thousand years after the Torah, so I should say that the Mishnah utilizes the rules of organization promulgated in the Torah. I have reversed the order to say that the Torah uses the same rules as the Mishnah simply because the rules of the Mishnah became apparent before the rules of the Torah. The key point is that the Mishnah is the major piece of evidence concerning the structure of the Torah, outside of the Torah itself.

Secret Teachings in the Torah

The structural similarity between the Torah and the Mishnah could be left as a curiosity for literary historians were it not for other considerations. I will argue that the literary structure of the Torah directs the reader to levels of meaning that are virtually inaccessible without an understanding of the underlying principles of organization. This last point holds for the Mishnah as well. And yet, for all that an overview of the structure can contribute to our understanding of any text, one additional factor places the structures that we will examine in a special category. The principles of organization that dictate the structure of the Torah and the Mishnah are conceptually similar to esoteric teachings that fall under the umbrella of “kabbalah.” In other words, one could say that the kabbalah is embedded in the structure of the Torah and the Mishnah.

I am not proposing a “kabalistic” or “mystical” reading of the Torah. My thesis and analysis must stand or fall on purely literary/philosophical considerations. But if I am successful, my enterprise should contribute to a greater appreciation of just how inseparable the written Torah is from the so-called “oral” Torah. Whether or not my observations concerning the similarities between the literary structure of the Torah and elements of kabbalah are significant, we will nevertheless have to relate to some parts of the Torah as esoteric. This conclusion is inevitable once we see that the formatting of the Mishnah is identical with that of the Torah. In both cases the initiate who understands the principles of organization is capable of reading an aspect of the text that is hidden from the non-initiate.

Chapter One

Focal Symmetry

An Inaccessible Center Point

The Torah utilizes “focal point symmetry”[ii] in prescribing the arrangement of the Israelite encampment during the forty years of wandering in the desert. The arrangement can be pictured schematically as three concentric circles. The innermost circle is that of the Tabernacle, the dwelling place of the Divine presence.  The next circle, moving outward, represents the holy camp of the Levites. The outermost circle represents the unconsecrated camp of the other tribes. Within the innermost circle are three further concentric divisions. The Tabernacle contains a courtyard, an outer chamber, and an inner sanctum, the Holy of Holies, which can only be entered by the High Priest once a year, on the Day of Atonement. Within the Holy of Holies is the Ark of the Covenant, which is sealed to all. This arrangement, too, demonstrates focal-point symmetry. The holiest point, beyond human access, is at the center. The farther any point is from the center, the more accessible it is. A similar symmetry exists in the structure of the Torah itself.

Schematic Structure of the Torah

The five books of the Torah can be read as three structural units: (1) Genesis; (2) Exodus, Leviticus, and Numbers; and (3) Deuteronomy. The book of Genesis reads like an introduction to the story of Moses, which is found in the following three books. In a similar manner, the fifth book, Deuteronomy, stands outside the narrative and can be read as a summary of it from Moses’ perspective. At first glance, the three remaining books comprise the “core” of the Torah, the story of the forty years during which Moses led the Israelites through the desert from Egypt to the border of Canaan. Upon closer inspection, however, we see that there is almost no historical narrative in Leviticus. The latter is, in fact, closely connected to the books that precede and follow it, Exodus and Numbers, but by a theme, that of the Tabernacle, rather than by any narrative.

Exodus is clearly divided in half. Only the first half presents an historical narrative. The second half is an enormously detailed description of the construction of the Tabernacle. Leviticus continues the discussion of the Tabernacle, describing the rituals to be performed in it. Numbers, like Exodus, has two principal sections, the second of which picks up the historical narrative that was interrupted in the middle of Exodus. The first section of Numbers deals with the ceremonies connected with the dedication of the Tabernacle.  There is thus a virtually continuous flow of Tabernacle-related material from the middle of Exodus, through Leviticus, to the middle of Numbers. As in the encampment described in the Torah, the text of the Torah also has the Tabernacle at its center. The following illustration demonstrates the literary symmetry that creates this focus.

Table 1 A Schematic Overview of the Torah

Three levels of literary symmetry define the Tabernacle service as the focus of the Torah. The framework of the prologue and epilogue creates the first level. Immediately within this framework, following the prologue, in the first section of Exodus, and preceding the epilogue, in the second section of Numbers, is the historical narrative of the forty years in the desert. Within the framework of the historical narrative, in turn, is the core of the Torah, the discussion of the Tabernacle. The Tabernacle service itself, which is the principal subject of Leviticus, lies between the description of the building of the tabernacle in Exodus and its dedication in Numbers. In physical terms, the service (Leviticus) takes place in the center, within the precincts of the Tabernacle (Exodus b and Numbers a) which is located in the desert (Exodus a, and Numbers b).

This literary topography is similar to the concentric circles of the encampment in the desert. It is even possible to see a direct parallel between the three camps and the concentric rings of the text. The Tabernacle service in Leviticus parallels the central camp of the Divine Presence, the Shekhinah. The next ring of text, going out from the center, describes the mechanics of the Tabernacle and parallels the camp of the Levites, who are assigned to the maintenance of the Tabernacle. The third ring of text, the historical narrative of the Israelites in the desert, parallels the Israelite encampment.

The Source is in the Center

The structure of the book of Leviticus reflects both the divisions within the central holy camp and the focal symmetry of the Torah. Like the format of the Torah as seen in the schematic overview, Leviticus also contains a seven-part symmetrical structure. It, too, can be seen as having a central text and three concentric “rings” around it. The rings of Leviticus are parallel to the concentric enclosures of the Tabernacle: the courtyard, the Holy Chamber, and Holy of Holies. The text at the center of Leviticus, chapter 19, is the equivalent of the Ark of the Covenant within the Holy of Holies.

Identifying the symmetry of Leviticus allows us, finally, to pinpoint the conceptual focus of the Torah as a whole. The significance of the center point appears in Rabbinic discussion of the Tabernacle’s successor, the Temple in Jerusalem. The language of the Rabbis is especially enlightening regarding our notion of virtual concentric circles. They say that the Land of Israel is the center of the world and that Jerusalem lies at the center of the Land. At the center of Jerusalem stands the Temple. In the center of the Temple is the Holy of Holies. At the very center of the Holy of Holies stands the Ark of the Covenant, and beneath it is the “foundation-stone” of the earth. The visible world emanated from this stone.[iii] (In modern terms, it could be thought of as the locus of the “Big Bang.”)  A similar point exists at the center of the Torah, the focal point of Leviticus, in the middle of chapter 19, the very point where the midrash, the Rabbinic commentary, mentions the “foundation-stone”. We will see that the theme of the focal text is generation. This completes the analogy between the text of the Torah and the structure of the encampment. Both are constructed as vessels for the holy life-force that emanates from the focal point.

Reading the Torah from this perspective provides a basis for understanding its inner logic. As a hermeneutical tool, “focal symmetry” sheds new light on several textual difficulties, for example, the problem of Leviticus 18 and 20. Lev 18 lists prohibited relationships, and Lev 20 lists the punishments for them. Why are the chapters separated? Why does chapter 19 come between them? If, as we shall see, chapter 19 is the central text of the Torah, the fact that chapters 18 and 20 relate to each other can then be explained by focal symmetry. They are placed symmetrically around the central text. This is similar to the way the historical narrative of the Torah appears in the first part of Exodus and the second part of Numbers, symmetrically enclosing the Tabernacle material. Even more important than solving any specific textual problem, focal symmetry provides a highly integrated reading of the Torah.

Chapter Two

The Passion for Intimacy

Two Ways

The Book of Leviticus, like the Holy of Holies, is hidden behind a screen. In order to get past the screen, one must first complete a complex process of purification. Only after completing this process can one begin to perceive the light radiating from within this extraordinary book. Having penetrated to the core of enlightenment, the reader begins the second phase of a spiritual journey through Leviticus. If the process of purification is understood as a turning inward, the second phase is a turning outward. It ultimately leads to redemption, both personal and universal. The full process of turning inward towards the depths of the spirit and then returning to the world of action is like the ritual of the High Priest on the Day of Atonement. This is the format of the Book of Leviticus.

I will refer to the two major blocks of text in Leviticus as the Inner Way and the Outer Way. They are placed symmetrically around the centerpiece of the book, Lev 19. In order to understand the notion that the text is like the path of the High Priest on Yom Kippur, consider Lev 19 as the equivalent of the Ark of the Testimony standing in the Holy of Holies. The general movement of the text follows the movements of the High Priest. It begins at the altar of burnt offerings, moves into the holy place of the incense altar and from there into the Holy of Holies. The ark represents the turning point.  After Lev 19, the text sets off on the outer way: moving away from the Holy of Holies, it retraces the High Priest’s path toward it. The difference between the two paths, the inner way and the outer way, is the perspective. The inner way faces toward the Holy of Holies, while the outer way faces toward the world outside it.

In order to understand the stages of the two ways, it is necessary to keep in mind the basic divisions of the Tabernacle. First, it is divided between a courtyard which is open to the sky and an area which is within a structure, the Tent of Meeting. The open space contains the altar upon which all burnt offerings were offered. This is a public area. All the Israelites are instructed to bring their burnt offerings to this area, which is also called “the opening of the Tent of Meeting.” The Tent of Meeting is itself divided into two parts, one within the other. The outer part, known as the Holy Place, also contains an altar, one which is used exclusively for burning incense. This space also houses the menorah, or candelabrum, and the table of the Showbread. The inner chamber is the Holy of Holies, containing the Ark of Testimony, which holds the tablets of the Decalogue. Leviticus uses these three well-defined spaces and the objects they contain as signposts. They serve to prevent the traveler (reader) from getting lost in the labyrinth of details contained in the book. Moreover, they actually define the precise stages of the journey. There are three stages in each direction, going in and going out, forming six major divisions in the text. A seventh division creates the central element which is topologically parallel to the Ark in the Holy of Holies.

The two ways are indicated by two different references to God connected with specific places. The book opens with God calling out to Moses from within the Tabernacle, “The Lord called to Moses and spoke to him from the Tent of Meeting.” This is the sign that we are about to begin the inner way. It is a call to draw inward towards God. The inner way is the path one must follow toward the voice of God calling from within. The second place-related reference to God is at the end of the book, where it is proclaimed that “these are the commandments that the Lord gave Moses for the Israelite people on Mount Sinai.” This is the sign of the outer way, the path that leads out of the Tabernacle and into the world, the world that lives by God’s laws. The two ways appear to be not only opposite in direction, but more significantly, also opposite in value. The inner way begins with chapter after chapter of sacrifice and repentance, negation of the flesh by casting it upon the altar to be converted to something more spiritual: “It is a burnt offering, an offering by fire, of pleasing odor to the Lord.” But at the other extreme, the end of the outer way, we find laws that deal with social economics: the period of a bondsman’s bondage, leases, and even the purchase of sacrosanct goods. To be sure, these are also God’s laws, no less than the laws of sacrifices. It is not the source of the laws that marks the distinction between the two ways, but rather the subject matter. Let us now look at an example of parallel texts illustrating the two ways.

Two Deaths

There are only two narrative sections in Leviticus, and both of them relate acts of blasphemy that lead to death. One, which includes the death of Aaron’s sons, takes place in the Tent of Meeting. The whole framework of this narrative is found in Lev 8-10. The second narrative is in the parallel section of the outer way, Lev 24. The incident parallel to the overzealousness of Aaron’s sons concerns the son of an Egyptian father and Israelite mother who “pronounced the Name in blasphemy.” There are many points for comparison between these two narratives. I will use some of these points in order to indicate distinctions between the inner way and the outer way. The fact that these are the only two narrative sections in the book implicitly “invites” us to make this comparison.

One of the perplexing questions associated with the case of the Egyptian man’s son is: why are we offered so many details about his parents? What does it matter who his father was? Why are we told his mother’s name? However, when we compare this incident with its parallel, we can immediately see that we should compare the fathers: Aaron, the High Priest, and a pointedly nameless Egyptian. Aaron was the highest official in the Israelite nation. As the High Priest, only he was empowered to enter the Holy of Holies. Not only was he part of the “inner circle” of power, but in terms of ritual he stood at the very focus. The Egyptian, on the other hand, was not even part of the community. He was a complete “outsider.” It seems that the text is directing us to compare an “insider” and an “outsider.” This analysis enables us to explain a difficulty with the opening words of the “outsider” incident.

“There came out among the Israelites one whose mother was Israelite and whose father was Egyptian.” “Came out” from where? The Hebrew word translated “there came out” is the first word in this pericope and has no antecedent. Nothing that follows it seems to connect to it. Basically, it adds nothing to the narrative. Furthermore, what could possibly be meant by “came out among”? However, once we have made the distinction between “insider” and “outsider”, the action of the outsider going out becomes a parallel to the insider going in. Aaron’s sons were the insiders, and their sin was to go inside the holy place at their own initiative. Let’s look a bit closer at the events.

There is a whole series of parallels between the narratives. First there is an act of blasphemy. Then the offender is taken out of the camp (dead or alive). After that Moses delivers a set of instructions that were inspired by the incident. Finally, the people do as Moses has instructed them. In both cases, the offenders die. Each of these parallels presents an opportunity to compare the inner way to the outer way. Aaron’s sons’ sin can be viewed as excessive spirituality. They are inspired to make a private incense offering before God in the holy place. Each takes his fire pan and goes in to offer the incense. They are killed indoors, in private, by a fire that comes from the Lord and consumes them. In effect, they are consumed by the fire of their own religious enthusiasm. Their sin, if it is a sin, is before the Lord. The parallel of the Egyptian’s son specifically takes place in public, “in the camp” to which he has gone out. He is apprehended and brought to Moses by the people who hear him blaspheme and utter God’s holy name. He is then taken out of the camp and stoned to death by the entire community. He has committed a public sin and is executed by the public. The distinction between the inner way and the outer way, as illustrated by these incidents, is that the inner way is focused on the individual before God, while the outer way focuses on the community. This distinction is supported by one of the other parallels between the incidents.

In both cases, Moses delivers instruction. In the private matter of Aaron’s sons, Moses speaks to Aaron and his remaining sons in private about personal concerns: “And Moses said to Aaron and to his sons Eleazar and Ithamar, ’Do not bare your heads and do not rend your clothes, lest you die.’” These instructions come directly from Moses, without any divine intervention. The public crime engenders a totally different type of instruction. Moses consults with God, whose response has two parts. First, He instructs Moses about the immediate case: “And the Lord spoke to Moses, saying: Take the blasphemer outside the camp; and let all who were within hearing lay their hands upon his head, and let the whole community stone him.” God then proceeds to deliver a series of laws that cover both capital offenses and torts: “And to the Israelite people speak thus: Anyone who blasphemes his God shall bear his guilt; if he also pronounces the name Lord, he shall be put to death. The whole community shall stone him; stranger or citizen, if he has thus pronounced the Name, he shall be put to death. If anyone kills any human being, he shall be put to death. One who kills a beast shall make restitution for it, etc.” All these laws are delivered to the whole community and are to be enforced by the community. The laws delivered in the outer- way narrative are part of a social and legal framework originating with God, while the laws delivered in the inner-way narrative are personal, applying only to Aaron’s family. How does this last point connect with our earlier distinction between the insider and the outsider and their blasphemy?

Both the inner way and the outer way carry dangers. The text exemplifies these dangers in the narratives of the insider and outsider, while at the same time defining the limits of normative behavior for each of them. The insider, the individual who dedicates his actions to drawing closer to the source of holiness, must take very seriously the negation of the self which is associated with spirituality. The holy is not a place for self-expression. When Moses instructs Aaron and his remaining sons regarding the proper mode of mourning, he indicates that they must avoid the signs of private loss. The instructions come directly from Moses, a family member, not from God, because they involve self-denial, which is appropriate for the inner-directed insider. The outsider finds himself in a state of friction with his surroundings. While the insider suffers a loss of self, the outsider suffers from an excess of self. He is overly iconoclastic, placing himself beyond the limits of the socially acceptable. Moses turns to God to instruct him how to deal with the outsider within the confines of socially regulated actions. In effect, since the outsider has removed himself from the fold, God must create the means for society to deal with him. At the same time, God directs Moses and the community as to how they should judge their fellows. The rule seems to be that socially destructive acts are to be dealt with by society.

The two narratives have enabled us to begin to explore the two directions of Leviticus. I have attempted to limit the discussion to the events as described in the Torah. The alternative would be to read the events as examples of universal principles. While I do think the Torah is dealing with more than the particulars of personal histories, I am wary of drifting off into speculative fantasies. In other words, I will try to determine what the text means without reading meaning into it. If I have succeeded in producing depth of meaning from the narratives while remaining close to their literal sense, it is because of the overview I have developed. The overview provides a system of checks and balances for interpretation by creating a broad context and placing each unit within that context. I would now like to bring another example of how the Torah forces us to compare and connect two separate blocks of text, Lev 18 and 20. Here we will see how the broader context of the inner and outer ways helps us solve a textual problem.

Two Faces of Desire

The obvious problem with Lev 18 and 20 is that Lev 19 falls between them. Chapter 18 lists forbidden sexual unions. Chapter 20 lists the punishments for the sins of chapter 18.  Chapter 19 does not appear to be connected in any way to the subject of forbidden relationships. Why has the Torah separated two chapters that fit together hand in glove? The similarity of Leviticus 18 and 20 is indeed one of the pieces of evidence that Leviticus is symmetrically organized around a central point, chapter 19. In terms of the inner and outer ways, that chapter is the turning point. Up to chapter 18 the text faces inward. From chapter 20 on, the text faces outward. Using the imagery of the High Priest on Yom Kippur, we could describe chapter 18 as the point where the High Priest takes his last step towards the Ark of Testimony. Chapter 20 would then be the point where he takes his first step away from the Ark in order to leave the Holy of Holies. This configuration leads us to some intriguing questions. What happens in the very middle, when he is no longer going in or out? Why is the very instant of revelation, at the source of holiness, clothed in references to unbridled sexuality? Is this the moment of mystical union?

The differing perspectives of chapters 18 and 20 support the speculation that chapter 19 is in some way meant to been seen as the moment of union. The prohibitions listed in chapter 18 are supposed to prevent the act from taking place. The punishments of chapter 20 are for the fait accompli. Between them, logically, falls the act itself. How does this startling analysis relate to the figure of the two ways? In the formal literary sense, Lev 19 is the union between the inner and outer ways. It does not belong to either one separately, but contains clear aspects of both. It is the goal of the inner way and the source of the outer way. Each of the separate ways contains nine individual units of text, without chapter 19. This “double-barreled” chapter completes both ways by simultaneously rounding each of them up to the number ten. In short, the last unit of the inner way is also the first unit of the outer way. This is the structural union that takes place in the central unit of Leviticus, the union of the inner and outer ways. There is also a conceptual union compatible with our earlier analysis of the insider and outsider narratives.

The inner way can be characterized as individually oriented, as opposed to the social orientation of the outer way. From the point of view of the High Priest, his inward journey takes him away from the crowd surrounding the Tabernacle to the point where he is alone with God. This intimacy with God is evidently being compared in some way to sexual intimacy. The explicit direction of the inner way is towards the source of holiness. Each step brings the High Priest closer to the holy. The inner sanctum is itself referred to as the Holy of Holies. The Hebrew word for holy is kadosh. As a verb, kadesh, sanctify, also means to marry, to join in holy union. The inner way leads to union with the holy. The very first verse of Lev 19 says: “You shall be holy, for I the Lord your God am holy.” Man is invited to share God’s holiness. The ultimate inner experience is to become holy like God, to join God in a union of holiness. This is the ultimate goal of the inner way, a personal, intimate experience of the holy.

In Lev 18, at the last step before union in chapter 19, there appear the warnings against forbidden unions. The specific language used in the majority of the injunctions is in itself revealing: “lo tegaleh, do not reveal [the nakedness]”. This exact formulation is used no less than thirteen times in chapter 18. Most of these instances refer to close family relationships, which by their very nature are intimate and private. There is at least a figurative connection between the intimacy within the private chambers of the home and the intimacy within the Holy of Holies. The connection is tightened by the framework of chapter 18. It opens and closes with God revealing Himself: “I am the Lord your God.” The injunctions against revealing intimacies are found within the framework of God revealing His intimate relationship with Israel. The holy union with God which is to take place in Lev 19 demands that the individual renounce all impure unions. As indicated in the framing text, verses 1-5 and 24-30, the action of the individual who indulges in abhorrent sexual practices can affect the relationship between God and Israel and cause the land to spew the people out. At the culmination of the inner way, we see that the individual in the privacy of the inner chambers of his home has the same degree of responsibility for the welfare of the Jewish people as does the High Priest in the Holy of Holies. There is thus a direct link to the narrative of Aaron’s sons. We have noted that their indiscretion was an excessive spirituality, a burning desire to be intimate with the holy. Theirs was a forbidden intimacy, to enter the inner sanctum uninvited. The passion for intimacy burned them up within. The same passion is expressed in the untoward intimacies of chapter 18. Now we will look at the parallel stage in the outer way, chapter 20.

Whereas chapter 18 presents the passionate individual as a threat to the stability of the state, chapter 20 presents the remedy for the threat. “If a man commits adultery with a married woman, committing adultery with another man’s wife, the adulterer and the adulteress shall be put to death. If a man lies with his father’s wife, it is the nakedness of his father that he has uncovered; the two shall be put to death; their bloodguilt is upon them. If a man lies with his daughter-in-law, both of them shall be put to death; they have committed incest; their bloodguilt is upon them.” While the prohibitions are addressed to the potential transgressors, the remedy is addressed to the state. The responsibility of preventing forbidden relations and the subsequent degeneration of society resides with the individual. The obligation to punish the transgressor resides with society. The enforcement of capital punishment is also a theme of the narrative of the Egyptian’s son. This is the perspective of the outer way. We can think of it in terms of law, the way society regulates itself. Stylistically, the capital laws of chapter 20 are expressed as case law: “If a man does such and such, then…” This may appear to be simply a stylistic change from the injunctions of chapter 18, but the shift in emphasis indicates a one-hundred-eighty-degree shift in perspective. The laws of Lev 18 are addressed to individuals, while the laws of Lev 20 are addressed to a political body.

We have begun to explore a way of reading Leviticus as a consistent, superbly planned text. Its parts are all connected by way of a single image, the path of the High Priest on Yom Kippur. This path has three components, the inner way, union, and the outer way. The inner way can be characterized as a process of separation and sanctification that reaches its peak in the privacy of the Holy of Holies with some form of holy union. The holy union gives birth to a new impulse, and at the very point where the inner way is completed, the outer way begins. The High Priest, having completed his inward journey, now desires to rejoin his brothers as part of the community of priests and share with them the experience of the holy. The individual who follows the path of the inner way to its end achieves self-realization. At that very point, he faces a choice. He can either stay within and die to the world or make an about-face and rejoin the world. The rest of Leviticus details the way of joining the holy community.

The overview of the inner and outer ways allows the reader to integrate seemingly unrelated parts of Leviticus. It also implies that the text has a focus, a center which itself integrates the two ways. We have noted that the apparent theme of the core text which unites the two opposite sections is union, as evidenced by the laws of chapters 18 and 20. This analysis prepares us to see chapter 19 as the focus of Leviticus and the merger of the inner and outer ways.

Chapter Three

A Structural Analysis of Leviticus

Literary analysis of Leviticus indicates that it has twenty-two identifiable units, while our Bibles divide it into twenty-seven chapters. In most cases, these “literary units” are identical with the conventional “chapters,” but in some cases, a unit includes several chapters. In one case, a chapter is divided into two units. Since this book is a literary analysis of the structure of Leviticus, I will sometimes have to refer to the literary units of the text. When I quote or refer to a specific passage, I will use traditional chapter-and-verse notations. In order to make it possible to relate chapter references to units, and visa-versa, here is a simple table:

Table 2: Units and Chapters

Only six of the twenty-two units are not exactly one chapter in length. The first four units all include multiple chapters, while chapter twenty-two is divided between two units. I will explain the reasons for my divisions when I summarize each unit. For now, I will confine myself to the overall significance of the division into twenty-two units. My main argument for working with these units is that they reflect the “natural” division of the text. Without identifying the inherent divisions within the book, there is no way of speaking about its structure. Once the divisions are identified, it is possible to create an overview that reflects the author’s plan.

The plan of Leviticus

  All of the twenty-two units of Leviticus except one can be grouped together into triads, seven triads in all, plus the one singular unit. Here is a table that gives a structural overview of the whole book:

Table 3: Structural Outline of Leviticus

Once the units and triads have been identified, other relationships between parts of the text become apparent. One of the more important of these relationships is common to all of the triads. The middle unit of each triad is a conceptual middle. It can be read as a synthesis between the other two units of the triad. As a lemma to the principle of the conceptual middle, the first and third units of each triad can be read as opposites. Each triad then can be seen in the format of “thesis, antithesis, synthesis” with the synthesis in the middle between the thesis and the antithesis. For example, look at triad G, which consists of chapters 25-27 and units XX-XXII. All three chapter-units deal with different aspects of redemption. Chapter 25 details the laws of redemption connected to the jubilee year. The redemption of land, slaves and debts are civil acts. Their purpose is to ensure social stability, “You shall observe My laws and faithfully keep My rules, that you may live upon the land in security” (25:18). The antithesis of secular redemption appears in unit XXII, chapter 27. It details the redemption of sacrosanct objects which have been dedicated to God. The synthesis between the secular aspect of redemption in unit XX and the redemption of the sacred in XXII appears in the theme of the relationship between God and Israel in unit XXI. This relationship leads to national redemption, facilitated by God. Therefore we can identify triad G as a structural unit and, in a similar manner, each of the other six triads. Here is a preliminary summary of the subjects of the triads, as well as each of the units as part of a triad.

Table 4: Subjects of the Triads and Units

Once the triads have been identified, aspects of the larger plan of the book begin to appear. Six of the seven triads show a strong similarity in the relationship between their first and third units. In triads A, B and D, there is an apposition between holy or divine in the first unit and human or mundane in the third unit. The same apposition is found in triads E, F and G but reversed: the first unit is mundane or human as opposed to the holy/divine third unit. Triad C is a glaring exception. Its content, the impure, indicates that it may be necessary to remove it, just as the lepers are removed from the holy camp. If we ignore triad C for the moment, we are left with the following outline:

Table 5: The Pure Form of Leviticus

We now have two structurally identical blocks of nine units each which are reflections of each other. (Interestingly, each block has the same structure as the first nine plagues in Exodus, which are also three parallel triads.)  Between the two blocks stands a single unit, XIII, which appears to be a focus or pivot. We are clearly getting closer to the plan. All that remains is to find an overall theme that “fits” the structure as well as explaining the anomaly of triad C. There is a hint in the placement of Lev 19 at the focus. This chapter contains most of the elements of the Decalogue in fragmentary form. It could be a literary representation of the Ark containing the (shattered) stone tablets. That would place it in the “center”, within the Holy of Holies. Following this analogy, triads D and E would be the Holy of Holies, “containing” the Ark. Continuing outward in both directions, triads B and F would represent the outer chamber of the Tent of Meeting, the chamber containing the menorah, the table of the Show-Bread and the incense altar. At the extremes, A and G would be the outer area of the Tabernacle, the courtyard containing the altar upon which the sacrifices were offered. This analogy fits perfectly. The specific objects associated with each area of the Tabernacle are mentioned in the analogous section of the text.

There are still two points to clarify. What is the function of triad C, and why are the two large blocks reversed? A single extension of our analogy answers both questions. We are not looking at a “picture” of the Tabernacle, but rather at a recording of a trip through it. Triads A, B and D record the progress from the outside inward, while triads E, F and G retrace the journey from the inside out. The reversal of direction explains the reversal of the two large blocks: what was on the right going in is on the left going out. Now, for the coup de grace, we can explain triad C. Only the High Priest is allowed to enter the Holy of Holies, and even he only once a year and according to a specific ritual. Before entering the inner sanctum, he is required to fill both chambers with a cloud of smoke. Triad C is a literary smokescreen. Like smoke, it is both there and not there. In order to see the symmetrical structure built around the Ark, we have to ignore, or look through, the smoke screen. Leviticus is a literary conceit constructed according to the path of the High Priest on Yom Kippur. In the following table I have used a color gradient to illustrate the relationships between the units of the book.

Table 6: The Holy Path

[Chapter numbers in parentheses]

The Impure Who Must Leave the Holy Place
(Used as a smokescreen in the text to hide the Holy of Holies)

Now that we have established the overview, we can see how the parts fit into the whole. The format forces our attention on chapter 19, unit XIII, the focus of the book. Because of the obvious importance of this chapter, I have dedicated a large section of this book to analyzing it. For now I want to point out just one structurally-significant element of this unit. Each of the twenty-two units has a clearly identifiable structure. The most common format is like that of the two large divisions of Leviticus, three triads. The structure of Lev 19 is unique in two respects. First it differs in form from all the other units. Second, and more important, it is the only unit in which the author has made a clear effort to define its structural elements for the reader. While the internal division of the other units depends on the reader understanding the subject matter, assisted by a few linguistic hints, unit XIII is pre-divided by the author according to a fixed formula. Each element of this unit ends “I am the Lord” or “I am the Lord your God.” These phrases are simply punctuation marks, dividing the unit into its components. Clearly, it was important to the author that the readers properly identify the structure of unit XIII. Since I discuss this chapter at length elsewhere, I will just lay out its structure here. The fifteen elements of the unit arrange themselves thematically in seven pairs as follows.

Table 7: Structural Outline of Leviticus 19

 There are two large blocks of text separated by a single element, 9. The first block contains four pairs and the second block contains three pairs. If the pairs had been triplets, the structure of this central unit would be absolutely identical to the structure of the book as a whole. One additional factor makes it quite clear that the author did construct the core unit to reflect the structure of the whole. Each individual element in the second block of pairs (10-15) has a solid link to one of the elements in its column in the first block of pairs (1-8). One of the pairs in the first block, like the leper triad, has no connection to the second block. So we can conclude that the core unit, XIII, is the seed or DNA from which the whole of the book grows.

Now let’s see some of the more obvious ways in which the theory of “The Holy Path” explains the features of the Book of Leviticus. The discontinuity between chapters 18 and 20, which according to their content should be successive, is easily explained. Chapter 20 is in the same place on the way out as chapter 18 was on the way in. This same correlation can be seen between other pairs of units, based on the following chart. I will detail the parallels in a separate chapter. For now it should be sufficient to note a few examples. Units VI and XVII both speak of leaving the newborn for seven days. Units IV and XIX contain the only narratives in the book. Units II and XXI describe detailed retribution before God for sins.

Table 8: Paired Units

The 18 units in the nine pairs can also be seen as three pairs of triads (3X2X3).  This is an especially neat arrangement. It is based on the observation that the High Priest visits each triad twice, once on the way in and once on the way out. Moreover, each pair of triads (A and G, B and F, D and E) shares a conceptual realm associated with its relative position, e.g. A and G as the outside pair bring material from the public realm; D and E, the inner pair, from the private realm; and in the middle B and F.

Table 9: The Paired Triads Schematic

Summary

This completes the outline of the formal structure of Leviticus, and we can now summarize it. The description that I have suggested begins in the outer court and reaches the Holy of Holies at the structural center of the book. The flow then reverses itself and finishes at the same place it began. According to this description, the book reads as if the reader enters and exits the Holy of Holies. Since this act is restricted to the High Priest on the Day of Atonement, the text requires the reader to position herself in place of the High Priest. Once the reader has become the priest, she can examine the lepers. The reader, like the priest, must send the lepers out of the holy camp. Once she has done this she can enter the Holy of Holies. If she does not see that sections VII-IX are a smokescreen, she will not see the symmetry of the text and consequently will not know where the Holy of Holies is.

Chapter 4

The Nine Plagues

My Secret

In the previous chapters I have given you an overview of a reading based on the structure of the Book of Leviticus. In this chapter I am going to begin describing the method I use to create the reading. My "secret" is that I read according to the context. Of course just what I mean by "context" is the real secret to be revealed.

Generally, when reading the Bible, or any other book, context means the surrounding text, that which comes immediately before and after. This is based on the assumption that the text is essentially linear. However, we have already noted that the Torah is organized, like the camp, with concentric blocks of text. This creates a non-linear flow, e.g. the historical narrative of the first part of Exodus is picked up in the middle of Numbers. Since it is quite evident that the Torah is non-linear, we have every reason to expect that each of the five Books is also non-linear.

How do we determine "context" in a non-linear document? This is a question that we will have to answer before we can fully understand Leviticus, which combines two different non-linear structures, the ring and the table. Mary Douglas has described the ring in her book on Numbers. It is like the "focal point symmetry" that we have already noted. As far as I know, the extensive use of tabular arrangement in the Torah has not yet been reported. In order to explain how the Biblical tables are organized, we must make a digression, and have a look at the organization of "the Nine Plagues".

Three Cycles

The first nine of the ten plagues in Exodus comprise the clearest example of tabular text in the Torah. Examining this tabular layout will make it easier for us to understand the meaning of "context" in the structure of Leviticus. Before I present the nine-plague table, I will list the plagues consecutively with some of the characteristics of each plague. The list will enable us to see just how the table is developed.

Nine-Plague List

In the above list I have divided the nine plagues into three cycles. Each cycle repeats a set of three different instructions to Moses. In the first plague of each cycle God tells Moses to present himself (nitzav, hityatzev) to Pharaoh in the morning. In the second plague of each cycle, God tells Moses to come (bo) to Pharaoh. The third plague in each cycle has no introduction; God simply tells Moses how to bring about the plague. In respect of these three different instructions, each of the three cycles is identical to the others. The three instructions appear in the same order in each cycle. There is, however, another element that distinguishes one cycle from the other, the agent who brings about the plague. All three plagues in the first cycle all brought about by Aaron. Similarly, all three plagues in the third cycle are brought about by Moses. The middle cycle has a combination of agents; two plagues are brought about by God Himself, and one by Aaron and Moses together. We now have two different means of classifying the plagues. We can divide them into three groups according to the three different instructions, and we can divide them by agents. The advantage of the tabular arrangement is that it demonstrates the two different methods of grouping simultaneously.

Table 1

All of the information that I presented in the previous paragraphs is directly accessible from the above table. The classification by opening instructions appears in the columns. The classification by agents appears in the rows. The table makes it clear that two "lines of thought" were employed in organizing the plagues, one that is expressed in the columns and one that is expressed in the rows. Each individual plague is defined by the intersection of its "agent" line and its "introduction" line. The planning lines give new meaning to "context." The context of a plague is determined by its position in the table, not just by its place in the linear flow of the text. I will expand this point shortly.

As interesting as this tabular arrangement may be, in and of itself it adds little to our understanding of the plagues. The full significance of the tabular arrangement comes to light when we use it as a tool for understanding the nature of the plagues. I have indicated the plagues by name in the tables. This is essentially shorthand for the whole section of text that concerns each plague. In order to study the plagues properly, the nine blocks of text should be organized as I have indicated in the shorthand table. Since we are concerned primarily with Leviticus, I will simply summarize some of the insights that come from studying the nine-plague table. Later we will apply these insights to our reading of Leviticus.

Each row and each column of the table should be examined as a three-plague set, six sets in all. The three horizontal sets can then be compared with each other. So too, the three vertical sets can be compared. The first horizontal set, plagues 1-3, is performed by Aaron by pointing at the ground. All three of these plagues have their source in the ground. In the last row, 7-9, Moses points to the sky to initiate each plague. These plagues come out of the sky. The plagues in the middle row come neither from the ground nor from the sky, but from between them. So there is a clear spatial theme in the organization of the plagues, which is expressed by the relative positioning of the rows. Once we see that the top row points down and the bottom row points up, we can see that they both point to the middle row, where God makes an unmediated appearance. God is revealed in the meeting of heaven and earth. This is similar to the theme of Mt. Sinai. Moreover, revelation is God’s stated purpose in causing the plagues. Now let us look at the columns.

The columns draw our attention to the introductions, and consequently, the "actors" in each scene. In the first column God tells Moses to go to Pharaoh. In the second column God invites Moses to come with Him to Pharaoh. Here I must clarify a point. The Hebrew verb that appears in the introductions to the three plagues in the middle column is bo, "come", even though it is often mistakenly translated in this context as "go". The importance of properly understanding this verb is that it positions the speaker, God. Moses is told to "come" to Pharaoh, thereby implying that either God is with Pharaoh, or that He will go with Moses to Pharaoh. Thus there is a contrast with the first column, where Moses is apparently sent to Pharaoh without God. In the third column Moses does not go to Pharaoh at all; he is with God. This gives us the following arrangement: first column, Moses and Pharaoh; second column, God, Moses, and Pharaoh; third column, Moses and God. Since Moses is common to all three, he can be ignored. That leaves the following arrangement: first column, Pharaoh; second column, God and Pharaoh; third column, God. The middle column is a combination of the two adjacent columns. This is similar to the phenomenon that we noted in the rows, where the middle row falls conceptually between the extremes.

The plagues of the first column, the Nile changing to blood, the invasion of mixed things, and the hail, all pointedly take place by the light of day in the morning, in a public setting. These three plagues bring about changes in the three levels of the created world: the lower waters, the upper waters, and the biosphere between them. This is the mundane world over which Pharaoh claims mastery; hence, he alone appears in this column.

Next we are going to look at the third column. There is an important methodological point that explains why we skip from the first column to the third column. We have noted that the central column, as well as the central row, combines elements of the extremities, i.e. Pharaoh on one extreme, God on the other, and both of them in the middle. Therefore, we should first study the extremes and then see how they combine in the middle.

The most obvious difference between the plagues of the first column and lice, boils, and darkness, the third column, is visibility. Lice are virtually invisible, boils have no visible cause, and darkness is the negation of visibility. The invisible plagues were brought about without any visible warning from the invisible God. These three plagues directly affect individuals, as opposed to the cataclysmic changes of the first three plagues. Even darkness, which might appear to be an objective change, is reported in terms of individual blindness: "people did not see one another". It is possible to make a case for calling the ninth plague “depression” rather than “darkness.” The verb used to bring it about, veyamosh, literally means “was made palpable”. The palpable darkness prevented individuals from interacting, “people did not see one other”. It was so bad that “for three days they could not get up from under themselves.” This sounds to me like a description of mass clinical depression. We can sharpen the comparison between the first column and the third by examining the order within each column.

We have already noted that the first column reproduces a picture drawn by the first days of the creation in which the primal world consists of three levels, the upper and lower waters and the firmament between them. This is the objective world clearly seen by the light of day. The third column deals with personal experience, the itch of a mite, the discomfort of a skin eruption, and debilitating depression, “darkness”. These three plagues are ordered experientially. They begin with an itch caused by the smallest of visible creatures, followed by a skin eruption that could have either an external or psychosomatic cause. Finally, there is a darkness of the spirit. The order is “internalization”, from the outside inward. It points to a Job-like experience that forces an unmediated confrontation between the individual and God. The extreme columns have defined the separate realms of “public events” and “private experience”, or perhaps, “objective” and “subjective” realities.

The substantial, public, Pharaonic world of the first column, meets the third column’s private world of the spirit, in the central column. The common metaphor for the combination of the body-public and the private spirit is animal life, or simply life; the Hebrew for “animals”, chayot, can also be read as “life”, chayut. The central column is made up of frogs, livestock, and locust. It seethes and swarms with life- and death. From the lower world of the first row, rise up hordes of frogs. From the upper world of the third row, come down swarms of locust. In the middle are masses of domesticated flocks and herds. Clearly, the middle column contains living creatures, which join the objective physicality of the first column with the hidden spirit of the third column. Pharaoh, the hero of the first column, is presented as the ostensible master of matter. The invisible God who appears by Himself in the third column is the Master of the spirit. God and Pharaoh, spirit and flesh, meet in the middle column.

We have begun to see that there is meaning embedded in the tabular structure of the nine plagues. The three-by-three table appears to represent a philosophic system in which reality has three spatial dimensions, represented by the rows, and three qualitative dimensions, represented by the columns. The “context” of each plague is determined by the unique intersection of a spatial dimension and a qualitative dimension, much like a Cartesian co-ordinate system. Changing the metaphor, we can see that the text of the nine plagues is like a weave. It can be studied “warp and weft”. This is the basic characteristic of tabular texts such as the nine plagues. They must be grasped as interwoven. Finally, I want to introduce the marking system I will use for woven texts.

Labeling Tables

Table 10 The Marking System

I have reproduced the nine-plague table with the addition of row and column labels. The rows are marked by numbers and the columns by letters. The columns are marked according to their positions: L(eft), M(iddle), and R(ight). There are two different types of markers in the table, simple and compound. The simple markers are outside the framework and the compound markers are inside it. The framework represents the limits of the text. Within it are the nine plagues. Outside the framework are the six “rules” abstracted from the text. The three rules of the rows are marked by numbers, and three rules of the columns are marked by letters. Each separate pericope –plague- is indicated by a combination of the number of its row and the letter of its column. This is the system I will use throughout this book. Each pericope reflects the intersection of two lines of thought, its column and its row, and is marked by its column letter and row number. (In the context of tabular units, I use “pericope” as referring to a single block of text in a table.) The linear text flows across the columns, row by row. In the example above the linear order is: 1L, 1M, 1R, 2L, 2M, etc. The space “outside the framework” is very useful for characterizing the “threads” of the weave, the rules of the columns and rows.

Warp and Weft

Each of the plagues can be classified by two characteristics: one connected to the plague itself, and one connected to the introduction to the plague. The substantial similarities, such as the first three being in the earth and produced by Aaron, appeared in the rows. The formal similarities appeared in the columns, such as the first of each triad taking place in the morning. This is exactly the distinction between the vertical warp, and the horizontal weft, in a loom. The warp has a formal function. It holds the weave together. The weft is the “substantial” part of the weave that creates the picture or pattern. The fact that the warp of textual weaves serves a formal function, does not prevent it from conveying meaning. We saw that the extreme columns of the plague weave could be read as reflecting dyads such as Pharaoh-God, large-small, visible-invisible, public-private. We will continue observing the distinction between the warp and the weft of woven text while analyzing the weaves of Leviticus.

What I have presented is by no means a full study of the plagues, but rather guide-lines for such a study. It is enough for us at this point that we have begun to understand the meaning of “non-linear context” as well as certain specific points that are significant for our reading of Leviticus. We will see that the Inner and Outer Ways are each a three-by-three weave, with striking similarities to the nine-plague weave. 

Chapter Five

The Ark in the Text
Contains the Text in the Ark
Leviticus 19

Similarities between Leviticus 19 and the Ark of Testimony[iv]

According to the structure of the Torah as I have described it, Leviticus 19 is its focal text. Following the parallel between the structure of the Torah and the structure of the camp, it is the equivalent of the ark of testimony. The “testimony” has two aspects. It refers both to the tablets within it, testimony to the events at Mt. Sinai, and to the testimony of God’s continuing revelation to Moses between the cherubs on the ark. There is no mention in the Torah of the ark ever being opened after the tablets of the Decalogue were deposited in it. There was no ceremony or holiday that required opening the ark. It was sealed for all times. Even when Moses, just before his death, wished to teach the Decalogue to the new generation as a sign of the covenant between God and Israel, he did not remove the tablets to show them to the people. They were in fact the most esoteric of all possible texts, read by only one man, Moses.

As the literary parallel to the ark, we are justified in expecting to find a hidden text within Leviticus 19. Finding such a text would in fact contribute significantly to establishing the soundness of the structural theory I have been developing. We could expect such a text to reflect both aspects of the ark of testimony, inner and outer. The content of the literary ark should have some link to the Decalogue as well as to God’s continuing revelation between the cherubs. There are references to all of the ten Words of the Decalogue in Leviticus 19.

Table 11. Parallels Between the Decalogue and Leviticus 19

In the table above I have arranged the Decalogue of Exodus 20 in the left column and parts of Leviticus 19 that can be read as parallels to the Words, in the right column. Some of the Words are repeated almost exactly as they appear in the Decalogue while others have a much weaker link. The connection between the sections has been noted in commentaries of all periods, going back nearly two millennia. What is lacking in these commentaries is a satisfactory explanation for why the Words are referred to in the context of Lev. 19 and why the order seems so random. I have proposed a partial answer, that this chapter represents the ark containing the tablets. This still leaves unanswered the difficulty concerning the apparent disorder of the Words. We could speculate that the tablets containing the Words, which we have found deposited in the ark -our chapter-, are the first set, those that were shattered by Moses. This would explain both the lack of order and the lack of clarity. We are looking at a literary representation of the shattered tablets inside the ark. At the moment, there is no way of verifying this theory. Later, after we analyze the full text of Lev 19, we will see that there are indeed two other tablets “in the ark” which, like the second set, appear to be man-made. 

We have summarily satisfied the first requirement of comparing our chapter with the ark and found the Decalogue contained within it. The second requirement, continuing divine revelation, parallel to the revelation from between the cherubs, is met by examining the whole chapter.

Leviticus 19

1 And the Lord said to Moses,
2 "Say to all the congregation of the people of Israel, You shall be holy; for I the Lord your God am holy.
3 Every one of you shall revere his mother and his father, and you shall keep my sabbaths: I am the Lord your God.
4 Do not turn to idols or make for yourselves molten gods: I am the Lord your God.
5 "When you offer a sacrifice of peace offerings to the Lord, you shall offer it so that you may be accepted.
6 It shall be eaten the same day you offer it, or on the morrow; and anything left over until the third day shall be burned with fire.
7 If it is eaten at all on the third day, it is an abomination; it will not be accepted,
8 and every one who eats it shall bear his iniquity, because he has profaned a holy thing of the Lord; and that person shall be cut off from his people.
9 "When you reap the harvest of your land, you shall not reap your field to its very border, neither shall you gather the gleanings after your harvest.
10 And you shall not strip your vineyard bare, neither shall you gather the fallen grapes of your vineyard; you shall leave them for the poor and for the sojourner: I am the Lord your God.
11 "You shall not steal, nor deal falsely, nor lie to one another.
12 And you shall not swear by my name falsely, and so profane the name of your God: I am the Lord.
13 "You shall not oppress your neighbor or rob him. The wages of a hired servant shall not remain with you all night until the morning.
14 You shall not curse the deaf or put a stumbling block before the blind, but you shall fear your God: I am the Lord.
15 "You shall do no injustice in judgment; you shall not be partial to the poor or defer to the great, but in righteousness shall you judge your neighbor.
16 You shall not go up and down as a slanderer among your people, and you shall not stand forth against the life of your neighbor: I am the Lord.
17 "You shall not hate your brother in your heart, but you shall reason with your neighbor, lest you bear sin because of him.
18 You shall not take vengeance or bear any grudge against the sons of your own people, but you shall love your neighbor as yourself: I am the Lord.
19 "You shall keep my statutes. You shall not let your cattle breed with a different kind; you shall not sow your field with two kinds of seed; nor shall there come upon you a garment of cloth made of two kinds of stuff.
20 "If a man lies carnally with a woman who is a slave, betrothed to another man and not yet ransomed or given her freedom, an inquiry shall be held. They shall not be put to death, because she was not free;
21 but he shall bring a guilt offering for himself to the Lord, to the door of the tent of meeting, a ram for a guilt offering.
22 And the priest shall make atonement for him with the ram of the guilt offering before the Lord for his sin which he has committed; and the sin which he has committed shall be forgiven him.
23 "When you come into the land and plant all kinds of trees for food, then you shall count their fruit as forbidden; three years it shall be forbidden to you, it must not be eaten.
24 And in the fourth year all their fruit shall be holy, an offering of praise to the Lord.
25 But in the fifth year you may eat of their fruit, that they may yield more richly for you: I am the Lord your God.
26 "You shall not eat any flesh with the blood in it. You shall not practice augury or witchcraft.
27 You shall not round off the hair on your temples or mar the edges of your beard.
28 You shall not make any cuttings in your flesh on account of the dead or tattoo any marks upon you: I am the Lord.
29 "Do not profane your daughter by making her a harlot, lest the land fall into harlotry and the land become full of wickedness.
30 You shall keep my sabbaths and reverence my sanctuary: I am the Lord.
31 "Do not turn to mediums or wizards; do not seek them out, to be defiled by them: I am the Lord your God.
32 "You shall rise up before the hoary head, and honor the face of an old man, and you shall fear your God: I am the Lord.
33 "When a stranger sojourns with you in your land, you shall not do him wrong.
34 The stranger who sojourns with you shall be to you as the native among you, and you shall love him as yourself; for you were strangers in the land of Egypt: I am the Lord your God.
35 "You shall do no wrong in judgment, in measures of length or weight or quantity.
36 You shall have just balances, just weights, a just ephah, and a just hin: I am the Lord your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt.
37 And you shall observe all my statutes and all my ordinances, and do them: I am the Lord.

I have emphasized the most striking linguistic element of the text, sixteen repetitions of the phrase “I am the Lord.” Actually, only fifteen appear emphasized because the first appearance of the Hebrew phrase, ani yhvh, in verse 2, has been translated “I the Lord.” (I will speak about this anomaly later.) Nowhere else in the Torah does God speak so frequently in the first person, and in such a formulized revelation. The frequency of the phrase satisfies our expectations regarding God’s continual revelation to Moses from between the cherubs of the ark. If this chapter does represent the ark, then that could explain the unusual repeated revelation in the form “I am the Lord.” We will see that this phrase is in fact a twofold revelation. Not only does it announce God’s particular concern with the content of this chapter, but it also provides the key for revealing the text hidden “within the ark.” In order to see the second tablets, we must clarify the literary function of God’s repeated self-revelation, “I am the Lord.” It is a formula that divides the chapter into 15 pericopes. This provides a natural transition to the first part of the analysis proper, determining the parts of the text.

15 Pericopes[v]

Pericope

1.   1 And the Lord said to Moses,2 "Say to all the congregation of the people of Israel, You shall be holy; for I the Lord your God am holy.

2.   3 Every one of you shall revere his mother and his father, and you shall keep my sabbaths: I am the Lord your God.

3.    4 Do not turn to idols or make for yourselves molten gods: I am the Lord your God.

4.   5 "When you offer a sacrifice of peace offerings to the Lord, you shall offer it so that you may be accepted.
6 It shall be eaten the same day you offer it, or on the morrow; and anything left over until the third day shall be burned with fire.
7 If it is eaten at all on the third day, it is an abomination; it will not be accepted,
8 and every one who eats it shall bear his iniquity, because he has profaned a holy thing of the Lord; and that person shall be cut off from his people.
9 "When you reap the harvest of your land, you shall not reap your field to its very border, neither shall you gather the gleanings after your harvest.
10 And you shall not strip your vineyard bare, neither shall you gather the fallen grapes of your vineyard; you shall leave them for the poor and for the sojourner: I am the Lord your God.

5.   11 "You shall not steal, nor deal falsely, nor lie to one another.
12 And you shall not swear by my name falsely, and so profane the name of your God: I am the Lord.

6.   13 "You shall not oppress your neighbor or rob him. The wages of a hired servant shall not remain with you all night until the morning.
14 You shall not curse the deaf or put a stumbling block before the blind, but you shall fear your God: I am the Lord.

7.   15 "You shall do no injustice in judgment; you shall not be partial to the poor or defer to the great, but in righteousness shall you judge your neighbor.
16 You shall not go up and down as a slanderer among your people, and you shall not stand forth against the life of your neighbor: I am the Lord.

8.   17 "You shall not hate your brother in your heart, but you shall reason with your neighbor, lest you bear sin because of him.
18 You shall not take vengeance or bear any grudge against the sons of your own people, but you shall love your neighbor as yourself: I am the Lord.

9.   19 "You shall keep my statutes. You shall not let your cattle breed with a different kind; you shall not sow your field with two kinds of seed; nor shall there come upon you a garment of cloth made of two kinds of stuff.
20 "If a man lies carnally with a woman who is a slave, betrothed to another man and not yet ransomed or given her freedom, an inquiry shall be held. They shall not be put to death, because she was not free;
21 but he shall bring a guilt offering for himself to the Lord, to the door of the tent of meeting, a ram for a guilt offering.
22 And the priest shall make atonement for him with the ram of the guilt offering before the Lord for his sin which he has committed; and the sin which he has committed shall be forgiven him.
23 "When you come into the land and plant all kinds of trees for food, then you shall count their fruit as forbidden; three years it shall be forbidden to you, it must not be eaten.
24 And in the fourth year all their fruit shall be holy, an offering of praise to the Lord.
25 But in the fifth year you may eat of their fruit, that they may yield more richly for you: I am the Lord your God.

10.       26 "You shall not eat any flesh with the blood in it. You shall not practice augury or witchcraft.
27 You shall not round off the hair on your temples or mar the edges of your beard.
28 You shall not make any cuttings in your flesh on account of the dead or tattoo any marks upon you: I am the Lord.

11.       29 "Do not profane your daughter by making her a harlot, lest the land fall into harlotry and the land become full of wickedness.
30 You shall keep my sabbaths and reverence my sanctuary: I am the Lord.

12.       31 "Do not turn to mediums or wizards; do not seek them out, to be defiled by them: I am the Lord your God.

13.       32 "You shall rise up before the hoary head, and honor the face of an old man, and you shall fear your God: I am the Lord.

14.       33 "When a stranger sojourns with you in your land, you shall not do him wrong.
34 The stranger who sojourns with you shall be to you as the native among you, and you shall love him as yourself; for you were strangers in the land of Egypt: I am the Lord your God.

15.       35 "You shall do no wrong in judgment, in measures of length or weight or quantity.
36 You shall have just balances, just weights, a just ephah, and a just hin: I am the Lord your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt.
37 And you shall observe all my statutes and all my ordinances, and do them: I am the Lord.

I have divided the text according to the phrase that closes each pericope, “I am the Lord” and numbered them from 1-15. All of the pericopes except the first are complex, including within them more than one law. In some of them there is no clear connection between the individual laws. Nevertheless, the clarity of the formal divisions, created by God’s personal intervention, as it were, demands that we continue to look for order in the apparent chaos. In roughly half the 15 pericopes, the phrase “I am the Lord” ends with the additional words “your God.” This addition allows us to further subdivide the text structurally. The first four pericopes end with the extended form ‘”I am the Lord your God.” The next four pericopes end with the shorter form. Let us compare the two blocks of four pericopes each. I will arrange them in two parallel columns labeled L, for left, and R for right. In L I will place pericopes 1-4 and in R 5-8. In order to maintain a consistent form for labeling the parts of various structures we will be examining, I will begin marking each separate block of text within a column with letters, starting with A. Thus the first four pericopes are marked L, A-D and the next four R, A-D

Two Columns of Four Pericopes Each

Table 12. The First Eight Pericopes Divided by Closing Formula

I have arranged the first eight pericopes in parallel columns, the first four in the left column, L, and the next four in the right column, R, according to the order of their appearance in the text. All four in column L end “I am the Lord your God” while the four in R end with the shorter formula “I am the Lord.” It is immediately apparent that we are heading in the right direction. Each column has a common subject, in addition to its common formula, that connects its four pericopes and distinguishes it from the parallel column. This is the first real evidence that the closing formula is a literary device used to organize the laws in groups. The initial division of the text into pericopes did not yield any clear sign of its function. Now however, we can begin to see that the literary device is indeed connected to the content of the pericopes.

The main distinction between the columns is that L is concerned with God as opposed to the social concern of R. (When speaking of the content of the pericopes from here on, I will not consider the closure formula, the literary device, as part of the content, except in LA. Therefore if the only reference to God in a given pericope is in the closure phrase, “I am the Lord,” I will say that the pericope has no direct reference to God). Each of the four parts of L has a religious component. Similarly, each part of R contains laws regulating relations between people. However, there are additional components, which must also be taken into account. The gleanings in LD are for the sake of the poor, who are also mentioned in RC. Similarly, “You shall fear your God” in RB seems out of place. Nevertheless, these exceptions do not make the two columns more similar, but rather further define the difference between them.

The Exception Sharpens the Rule

The two significant exceptions to the rule of “religious” in L are leaving the gleanings and reverence of parents. Both of these are limited private acts. In regard to the gleanings, the text says that they must be left for the poor, not that they be given to the poor. So, in fact, there are no actions in L that extend past the circle of the family, and no direct contact with an “other” besides parents. This observation sharpens the distinction between the columns. The subject of L at first appears to be “religious acts,” or something of the sort. After taking into account the apparent exceptions, we can modify the subject of the column to “private acts” as opposed to the civil concerns of R. This is reinforced by the exceptions in R. There are two references to God in column R: A, “you shall not swear by my name falsely”; B, “you shall fear your God”. Neither of these mentions rituals or worship. They both relate to God as the ultimate guarantor of social order. So despite the apparent exceptions, we can say that the columns do indeed differ from each other in content and demonstrate two opposite fields of experience, private and public. This is the beginning of an entirely new reading of the text.

The Columns Reveal A Non-Linear Text

We are looking at a non-linear text. That means we cannot fully understand what is written in it by means of a traditional verse-by-verse reading. Some shades of meaning will be lost. We must read the blocks of text, such as the pericopes and the columns above, as units of meaning. This is what makes it possible to see a “text within the text.” The normal or “outer” text presents each law as an independent unit. At most, we may take into account the context of what comes immediately before and after a specific law for determining a frame of reference. However, once we have established formal subdivisions within the text, here within a single divine speech, we have new contexts within which to examine the elements. For example, each pericope of columns L and R has a shade of meaning that is derived from being in one of the columns rather than the other. Conversely, it serves a function in painting the picture of the column. This level of meaning is virtually invisible in a linear reading. The analysis that we are just beginning is directed at deriving as much meaning as possible from the nonlinear text. I will give an example now of “information” in the text which is meaningless in the linear context, while being fraught with significance in the nonlinear context.

Additional Meaning in the Non-Linear Reading

We have already noted that the main thrust of R is civil law. A number of different relational expressions, such as “your neighbor,” “your brother” and “your people” are used to indicate that we are dealing with civil law. The Hebrew is even richer than the English in this respect because it includes two different terms that are both translated “neighbor,” amit and reyah. In RA amit has been translated “another.” It is the only expression of this class in RA. In RB there are two such expressions “your neighbor”(reyah) and “a hired servant.” The third element includes three: “your neighbor”(amit), “your people,” “your neighbor”(reyah). The forth element contains four: “your brother,” “your neighbor”(amit), “your people,” and “your neighbor”(reyah). If we were reading the text linearly, this information would be essentially meaningless. However, once we have determined that the four pericopes taken together form a unit of text, the very same information takes on great significance. We can now relate the number of relational expressions in a pericope to its place in the list. We can then see that the elements are in effect numbered internally from one to four by the number of times the key expressions, which determine the character of the column, appear.

A Literary Watershed

This observation of “internal numbering” is a literary watershed in reading the non-linear text. It verifies our previous remarks regarding the general distinction between the columns while leading us to a new area of investigation, the sequence of the elements within the columns. The internal numbering of the elements of R hints that there is yet more information to be gleaned by examining the order of the elements. We will see that the elements are ordered in such a manner as to create a conceptual flow within the columns. I refer to this stage of the analysis as the watershed because it takes us from observing thematically blocked groups of laws to a document of such literary complexity that it will force us to seek an entirely new definition for the type of text we are reading.

More Meaning in the Columns

As indicated by the internal numbering, the four components of each column are ordered amongst themselves. The orderings point to two different processes. Column L begins by comparing “all the congregation of the people of Israel” to God, indicating that they are similar enough for the people to share God’s quality of holiness. The congregation is like God. The column ends in D with sacrifices that point to the gulf between God and man, and specifically man’s potential for defiling God’s holiness, “(he) shall bear his iniquity because he has profaned a holy thing of the Lord.” The column opens with a call to holiness and ends with profaning the holy. There is an implied movement of drawing away from God within the column.

In R we see an opposite movement, a drawing closer to other people. It begins with a set of antisocial behaviors: “You shall not steal nor deal falsely nor lie to one another.” By the end we find ourselves commanded “love your neighbor as yourself.” The “other” has become identified with us. This is similar to the position at the beginning of L where God identifies with the congregation. The two columns thus have opposite processes within them: distancing from the Lord in L and drawing closer to one’s fellow in R. The opposite directions are emphasized by a link between the end of L, 1LD “he has profaned a holy thing of the Lord” and the beginning of R, 1RA “profane the name of your God.” The beginning of L, 1LA and the end of R, 1RD are also similar because the subject of each pericope is identified with an other, God with man in 1LA and man with his neighbor in 1RD. Each column is in effect the inverse of the facing column. This is not of course a full analysis, but rather an outline for such an analysis. It is however sufficient to demonstrate the potential of this line of investigation.

The Second Tablets Revealed

If discovering “internal numbering” within the text was a watershed, observing parallel but opposing progressions is a quantum leap. It reveals a degree of literary organization and sophistication totally unexpected in an apparent collection of laws. We have already gathered enough evidence to demonstrate that Lev 19 contains much more information than is available to the reader who reads it as a linear text. All of our observations concerning the relationship of the first four pericopes to the next four are dependent upon a careful reading of the non-linear aspects of the text. First we divided it into pericopes defined by “I am the Lord.” We then classified the pericopes by variations in the closing phrase. The inner text began to appear when the pericopes were organized in a table. Consider the table carefully. What is a two columned table if not a pair of Biblical “tablets”?! We have in fact begun deciphering the tablets hidden in the ark. We have created these tablets in our reading, as surely as Moses was commanded to create the second tablets with his own hands. The fragments we found of the first tablets were just a hint that there are other tablets to be found here. As I write these words, having gone several steps ahead in deciphering the tablets, I am still filled with the excitement and wonder of when I first realized what I had found. As unlikely as it may seem, we are confronted with a here-to-for unknown text at the very heart of the Torah, the second tablets.

Chapter Six

Place Stumbling Blocks Before the Blind

A Textual Stumbling Block

So far we have examined only the first eight of the texts fifteen pericopes. Understanding the structure of the remaining seven depends on having discovered the organizing principle of the first eight. The structure of the seven remaining pericopes is totally inaccessible until the first eight have been organized as two parallel blocks of text. I want to emphasize the importance of this point for two reasons. Firstly, this is further evidence of the use of literary complexity in order to create an esoteric text. The tables are totally invisible to the casual reader, let alone a public that only hears it read aloud once in seven years. Secondly, and even more problematic for the modern reader, it leads to the discovery of stumbling blocks placed before the “blind” reader, one not privy to the esoteric nature of the text. These stumbling blocks are the very same rules of organization that led to the discovery of the partial tablets we have been examining.

 In a very unsportsmanlike way, the text changes the rules in the middle of the game. The distinction between “I am the Lord” and “I am the Lord your God” is no longer significant in the second half of the chapter. It was useful only for a limited time, until the first eight pericopes were ordered in parallel blocks of four. It then became apparent that they were in fact organized according to more substantial, content related principles. Once this point is established, the distinction between the forms of closure is no longer significant and self-destructs. It plays no part in deciphering the structure of the seven remaining pericopes. The reader who tries to utilize it in the second half of the chapter finds that it has become a stumbling block to further progress. This is the point I am about to demonstrate. When I finish, we will have even clearer proof that we are dealing with an esoteric text.

The Format of the Last Seven Pericopes

We are heading into a fairly technical piece of analysis. I want to present an outline of how the rest of Lev. 19 connects with the first eight pericopes. This will enable us to begin speaking about the whole chapter without getting too bogged down in detail for now. Rather than drag you through a painfully detailed description of how I reached enlightenment, I will simply present the final arrangement of the chapter in the form of a table. Then I will explain why this format represents the way the parts of the chapter connect to each other. Before I show the whole text in its tabular form, I will present it schematically.

Table 13. Schematic View of Lev. 19 in Tabular Form

The last seven of our original 15 pericopes, 9-15 in the table, divide into three sets, one containing a single pericope, 9, and two sets containing three pericopes each, 10-12 and 13-15. The two sets of three pericopes continue the columns of the table established by the first eight. The remaining single pericope functions as punctuation, separating the upper four pericopes of each column from the lower three. Now that the tabular arrangement is clear, I am going to confuse things a bit by replacing the numbers, 1-15, of the pericopes with other designators. I know that this might seem gratuitous at first so let me explain why it is necessary.

General Principles of Tabular Texts

All of Leviticus, certain legal codes in Exodus and Deuteronomy, as well as the Mishnah, compose a literary genre. All of these ancient Hebrew religious/legal documents are non-linear and best viewed as tables. I have already published the Mishnah, which consists of over five hundred chapters, in tabular form. Each of the chapters is a separate table. This format expresses the conceptual relationships between the parts of the chapters. In order to understand this last point, and relate it to our text, let’s look at a simple table, one consisting of two rows and two columns.

The columns of the table are marked L and R. The rows are marked 1 and 2. We have already seen that the first eight pericopes divide into two parallel sets. We are about to see that the last six divide in a similar way. They divide according the same subject matter division we found in the first eight. The first three pericopes of the second group deal with religious matters and the next three with civil matters. Let’s just ignore pericope number 9 for the moment and place the first eight and the last six in our two-row table.

All of the pericopes in column L have something in common (religious laws) and so do all the pericopes in column R (civil laws). This is why the tabular presentation makes more “sense” than a linear reading. Now let us add the fact that each of the rows, just like the columns, also has a unique characteristic. That means that each one of the four separate boxes that make up the table is a unique compound composed of the characteristic of its column and the characteristic of its row. Let me try to clarify this last point by representing it symbolically.

 Each box is a unique combination of what characterizes its row (1 or 2) and what characterizes its column (L or R). It may be useful to think of the table in terms of Cartesian coordinates applied to conceptual space. Each individual point (box in the table) is defined as the intersection of two “lines” of thought, its row, and its column. This is the essential characteristic of the entire genre of tabular texts and the reason why I am about to change the way I represent the pericopes. From now on I will use only the tabular designators for the pericopes.

Since there is more than one pericope in each box of the table, the designator will have three elements. The first element, a number from 1-3 represents the row number. The second element is the column designator, L for left, M for middle, and R for right. The third designator is a letter from A-D indicating the ordered place of the pericope within its tabular box. For example, 3RB directs us to the second pericope (B) in the right-hand (R) column of row three (3). I will use this system for labeling all the tables of Leviticus in the second section of this book. Let’s now put pericope 9 back into our table as the middle row and see what our whole chapter looks like.

As I will explain in the next chapter, pericope 9 has three separate parts. They appear in the table as 2L, 2M, and 2R. In order to ease the transition from the linear designators (numbers 1-15) to the tabular designators, I will place the linear number in square brackets [1] next to the pericope in the tabular arrangement of the Lev. 19 that follows.  

Table 14. Leviticus 19 Arranged According to its structure

The text is presented above as a table composed of three rows marked 1-3. The first eight pericopes are in line 1. The columns are marked L and R for left and right and M for middle. The order of reading is the same as the normal order by verses beginning with 1L A-D and continuing with 1R A-D. Although line 2 is subdivided into three columns with three divisions, A-C, in each column, it is all just one pericope according to the rule of “I am the Lord” endings. The text indicates that we must read the three diverse subjects, forbidden mixtures, the engaged slave woman, and first fruits, as a single block since there is only one “I am the Lord.” The third row has three pericopes in each of its two columns. They do not follow the formal rule of line 1; each column contains elements ending both, “I am the Lord” and “I am the Lord your God”. Nevertheless, it is quite clear that pericopes 10-12, which are 3LA-C in the table, are a continuation of 1L, dealing with ritual. Similarly, pericopes 13-15, 3RA-C, continue the civil matters of 1R.

The Torah Reveals Itself

This is the point on the hike when the leader says “everyone stop and drink some water.” We have gotten past the steepest part of the climb and can look down to appreciate the view from above. We can now appreciate the complex process of “revelation” within the text. Let’s review the steps. In order to emphasize just how many levels of order there are in the Torah, I’ll begin from the first division.

1.   The Torah is divided into five books.

2.   The five books focus on Leviticus

3.   The book of Leviticus is divided into units, primarily according to divine speeches. Chapter 19, which consists of one whole speech, is in the center of Leviticus.

4.   The chapter is formally subdivided into 15 parts by the closure phrase “I am the Lord”

5.   The phrase has two variations.

6.   The first eight pericopes divide into consecutive blocks of four according to the variants of the closure phrase.

7.   When the two blocks are compared, it becomes apparent that they are not only formal units, but also content units.

8.   The last six pericopes reveal themselves as two consecutive blocks of three according to the content rule of the first eight. They do not follow formal rule of the closure phrase.

9.   One single pericope stands out as the fulcrum of the text.

10.   The central pericope has its own complex structure based purely on content.

The rest of this chapter is devoted to a detailed explanation of step 8. The next chapter will discuss points 9 and 10. You might have noticed that I have begun using the term “revelation” as in “the text reveals itself.” This is not by chance nor for lack of a better term (although at my age it is not impossible that I have forgotten better words.) It is not possible to speak about any author’s intention, only about what he has actually written. The text speaks for itself. It would appear that the text we are reading has been constructed in such a way as to conceal its message while providing clues for the reader intent on hearing it. The imagery of locks and keys fits here. The inner text is within a series of locked doors. Each step of our analysis opened a door that revealed what lay within it. So far, each door has revealed another and provided a key to unlock it. This “revelation in stages” seems to be in the nature of the text itself and not in the analysis. The “revelation” of line 3 is the clearest example of this process.

In chapter 2 I discussed the way in which reading the Torah as a non-linear text makes additional meanings available. Row 3 is another example of this principle. When the material of this row is read as part of a continuum, a linear text, there is no basis to associate any of its parts with each other. There are no obvious subjects or legal categories that can explain this specific series of laws or lead to the principles of their organization. Only row 1 in our table can do that. Only after row 1 has been established as a conceptual unit, can row 3 reveal itself. I will begin discussing row 3 as a content unit in chapter 5. For now, I will limit the discussion to the formal connection between rows 1 and 3. In order to clarify the links between row 1 and row 3 I will present each column separately.

By looking at the tables, it is easy enough to see the similarity of content between rows 1 and 3. The parallel columns of each row have numerous linguistic links. Closer inspection discloses a striking fact. Each and every pericope in line 3 contains a linguistic link to a pericope in its own column in row 1. For example, 3LC begins “Do not turn to.” In the same column of row 1, 1LC begins “Do not turn to.” This is the literary device that guarantees the association of the two rows. Here are the six parallels.

Linguistic Parallels
Between the First and Third Rows of the Table

There are several parallels between these two pericopes. The most obvious is the repetition of “you shall keep my sabbaths.” Reverence for parents in 1L is replaced by reverence for the Lord’s sanctuary in 3L. The family framework of parents and child in 1L continues in 3L with “your daughter.”

The phrase “Do not turn to” opens both units. The objects in both are supernatural powers.

If there were even the slightest doubt that the peace offering and gleanings of 1L should be read as a single unit, a triple link to 3L serves to remove that doubt. Both pericopes discuss eating meat. Both have the Hebrew “Nefesh,” soul; “that person (nefesh) shall be cut off” in 1L and “on account of the dead (nefesh)” in 3L. The third parallel also involves a Hebrew term that is translated in two different senses, peah. It refers to the edges of the field in 1L, “you shall not reap your field to its very border,” and the edges of the head in 3L, “You shall not round off the hair on your temples or mar the edges of your beard.”

The fear of God is mentioned in both pericopes. The context is also similar, attitudes towards others with specific physical characteristics.

Although there are two different English words here, “injustice,” and “wrong,” the Hebrew is identical in both pericopes.

In both pericopes we are told to love another as ourselves. There is also the similarity between “the sons of your own people” and “the native among you.”

I have no doubt that some readers will say that it is hard to imagine that ancient readers and writers could have involved themselves with such tedious details. I believe that this conceptual difficulty is one of the factors that make esoteric writing possible. The very fact that a text is a laborious read restricts its audience to those who will invest the effort required to plummet its depths. Since I proposed reading Leviticus as an esoteric text, I am following what I consider to be the author’s trail of crumbs. The details of the way row 1 is reflected in row 3 will play a crucial role in deciphering the master plan of the chapter in a later stage of this analysis.

The evidence we have gathered so far connecting the two rows entitles us to make yet another connection, one that might otherwise seem dubious. In order to create the parallel, I have divided verse 19 and separated  “You shall keep my statutes” from the following pericope. Rather than reading it as an introduction to the laws against mixing varieties, I read it as the close of row 1. This creates a parallel with the closing line of row 3, “And you shall observe all my statutes and all my ordinances and do them.” A single Hebrew verb, shamor, has been rendered “keep” in verse 19 and “observe” in the parallel text in verse 37. In any case, it is quite clear that the parallel texts do indeed close their respective rows. This would seem to indicate that the ancient scholar who was responsible for dividing the text into the verses that we use, was either unaware of the esoteric text we have begun to decipher, or chose to make it all the less accessible.

Chapter Seven

Serial Interaction
Between the Same and the Others
Or
What is a Nice Jewish Serving Wench
Doing in a Place Like This?

Reading the Text by its Structure

Having now identified the overall literary form of the chapter, we must plan a strategy for reading the text according to its structure. I think that first I should explain what I mean by “reading the text according to its structure” and why I think this is a good thing to do. In Talmudic parlance we might now say “l’mah hadavar domeh,” what is a suitable analogy to help make the point. Let us say that the text is like a house. We can look at a house as an articulated pile of bricks, or as a series of living spaces. I would then argue that the normal linear reading sees our text as a pile of bricks, be they ever so well articulated. On the other hand, reading the text according to its structure will enable us to find the kitchen, open the fridge, and eat the goodies before the three bears get home. More prosaically, we want to determine what message is conveyed through the structure. At this point I think I don’t have to demonstrate that the structure is far too complex to be just a vehicle to systemize a legal code.

The Focus Within the Focus: Row 2

In chapter three we found that similar material is arranged symmetrically around line 2. This arrangement creates a framework that places the second line at the focus of Leviticus 19. In chapter one I mentioned “focal point symmetry” as one of the underlying principles of organization in the Torah and referred to two aspects of this symmetry in the text. One related to the structure of the encampment around the tabernacle as a focus. The other has Leviticus at the center of the Torah. We began the analysis of Leviticus from the center, with the text representing the ark. Now that we see that this text itself has a focus, row 2, it seems appropriate that we begin our detailed analysis there. It provides an excellent example of reading a text by its structure. Moreover, the analysis will enable us to understand why the Midrash (Rabbinic commentary) associates the “watering stone,” the source of creation, with this specific segment of the text. It is not only at the center of the Torah, it also contains within its structure the creative process.

Table 15: The Central Pericope

First Impression: Chaos

The focal row is composed of three seemingly unrelated subjects: L, mixing types, M, intercourse with a promised handmaiden, and R, first fruits. At first sight the most striking characteristic of this trio is the very fact that they are grouped together. Why have three so divergent subjects been marked by the text as a unit with a single “I am the Lord” closure? If I hadn’t worked so hard to get to this point, I might be tempted to throw in the towel and admit that I made a mistake insisting that these were supposed to be read as a piece. After all, it looks like the Torah has, as it were, violated its own prohibition against connecting dissimilar types. Here we are, according to my thesis, looking directly at the very heart of the Torah. And what do we see? Chaos! There is even more disorder here than just the appearance of three totally unrelated subjects within a single pericope.

As different as the first fruits are from the prohibited combinations, they are much more similar to each other than either of them is to the saga of the man who sins with a promised handmaiden. Both of the extremes, L and R, are connected with agriculture. Both of them consist solely of imperatives written in the second person. All of column M is in the third person, written not as laws, but almost as an anecdote. So not only do we have a problem with different “kinds” being mixed within the pericope, we also seem to have a problem with the order in which they appear. Since the agricultural commandments are much more similar to each other than either is to the promised slave incident, they should be presented one after the other. Instead, the handmaiden shows up where she has no business being.

The Approach

We are looking at one of the most fundamental problems of Biblical hermeneutics. What do you do when the text seems to be unreasonable? Do you deduce that our edition is corrupt, that some scribe along the way was careless? Alternatively, do you take for granted that the text is coherent and conclude that it is impossible for mere mortal man to fathom divine wisdom? I don’t have a simple answer for all the cases. What I can do though is demonstrate in the case before us how I deal with the problem. The method I employ has helped me crack a few hard nuts. I start with a conviction that the text has something to say and that if I listen very carefully I should be able to hear it. I also take seriously the teachings of my fathers that the text contains deep wisdom. From my own experience I have learned that a “true” reading not only integrates diverse parts, but also contains an element within it that testifies to its authenticity. I have chosen to emphasize at this point the way that structure of the text can shed light on its meaning, so I will begin my reading with a closer look at what we can expect to learn from the structure.

Second Impression: Micro-Macro

We have determined that in Leviticus 19 the pericopes defined by the “I am the Lord” closure are textual units. Our challenge now is to understand in what way or ways the central pericope is a coherent unit rather than a collection of diverse laws lacking internal order, as it appeared from our first impression. The very fact that it appears to be a collection tells us something about the way to read it. As a collection it presupposes a rule or rules according to which the members of the collection were chosen and arranged. These rules of arrangement form a super-text. It is this aspect of a “super-text” or “meta-text” that makes it possible for an author to create a text within a text. So this is the most natural place in the text to look for additional meaning.

The first rule of the pericope is that it is composed of triads of two different orders. It is a perfect micro-macro text. Each of its three sections (L, M, R) is itself divided into three parts (A, B, C). This observation immediately presents us with more information than we have in a linear reading. Instead of just the three subject triads of each column, we have four. The whole, which is itself a triad, resembles each of its tripartite divisions. This observation is consistent with our expectations concerning a super-text. The fourth triad, the set of the three columns, is itself a clear element of “super-text.” It is totally invisible in the normal linear verse-by-verse reading. It is the product of analyzing the structure and the basis for determining the rule of the pericope. The fact that there are two orders of triads presents us with a new direction for analyzing the pericope. By studying the way the three parts of each column create a unified whole within the column, we may be able to learn the rule that connects the three subjects of the pericope. With that in mind, let’s look into the organization of the triads in each of the columns.

Animation

The first column, L, is the hardest to understand. In what sense is wearing a garment of mixed fibers (LC) like the cross breeding of unlike species (LA) or sowing a field with multiple varieties (LB)? Certainly weaving is a purely human artifice, totally unconnected with reproduction. In this case there can be no doubt that the text is forcing us to deal with its concept of “mixtures”, because it uses this same Hebrew term for all three cases, keylaim, improper combinations. Three different types of actions are classified together because of a simile captured in a single word. The Torah utilizes a pure concept, a word, keylaim, to group the laws.[vi] The rule of the triad as a collection is linguistic. Now that we have identified the basis for grouping the commandments together we have to determine whether or not the order is significant. The three prohibitions relate respectively to animals, plants, and clothing. A single rule can be seen in this ordering, animation. The commandments are ordered on the basis of the degree of animation in the object of each commandment. We have now identified two rules of organization within the column, the rule of the class of prohibitions, improper combinations, and the rule of internal ordering, animation.

A Caveat

Before we continue with the analysis, I want to offer a caveat. We are trying to derive information from extremely small sets of givens, triads. It is highly speculative, to say the least, to identify a class or category by way of three exemplars. While it is true that three points define a plane, literary analysis is not mathematics. We have no way of knowing whether or not our conclusions reflect the best of all possible readings. While the laws of column L are indeed organized by degree of animation, there is no way to demonstrate, at least at this point, that this information is significant. Perhaps someone else will come up with a reading in which the number of words or letters in each law is significant. I personally use two tests to determine whether the information I derive from a reading is significant. Is it interesting and does it integrate?

The matter of interest is of course totally subjective. I check to see whether there is something in it that attracts me, lights a light, turns me on. The fact that the order of the laws can be seen to demonstrate a rule of animation is fascinating. It indicates to me that the Torah is aware of natural classification. The test of integration is more objective. Does the reading enable us to link otherwise disparate facts? It is clear that the Torah classifies the three different laws as keylaim. Linguistic links of this sort are quite convincing. Still, it would seem to be of limited significance. The test will be whether this is the category that enables us to link column L to the rest of the pericope. What we do have now is a second structural similarity between the three sets.

Ordered Sets

We began by noting that the three sections of the pericope are all composed of three elements. Observing the rule of animation in L enables us to see a second similarity. All three sets are ordered internally. Column R is obviously ordered chronologically: A, the first three years; B, the fourth year; C, the fifth year. The middle column is similar to R in this respect. Its parts are also ordered in time. One action follows the other: A, sin; B, repentance; C, forgiveness. We now have a new basis for comparing the three columns: the principles of order within each of them. New doors are opening as we continue to explore the inner structure of the text. The fact that all three columns contain ordered sets is more evidence of the relationship between structure and content. Before we make a more detailed comparison of the columns, let’s look at another implication of the three columns being ordered sets.

We have already noted a formal macro-micro relationship between the whole pericope, which contains three sections, and each of the three part sections. Now that we have confirmed that each of the sections, L, M, R, is an ordered triad, we have a basis to look for a similar relationship between the sections of the pericope. The whole of the pericope is much like column L because it contains three ostensibly unrelated subjects. Since we have positively identified the existence of a linguistic link between the parts of L, we know now that the Torah does use figurative connections. This insight leads to the next step of the analysis. Each of the three columns begins with a similar act: A, “breed”; B, “lies carnally”; C, “plant.” Although these three actions are different, they share a kernel of similarity, much as the three elements of column L. This information is of the sort that I earlier described as “lights a light”, also known as the “aha” stage.

Generation

All three columns begin with an act of generation. The more closely we observe the details of the columns, the clearer the picture that appears. In LA no actual engendering takes place. It is forbidden. The next column begins with intercourse, MA. In the third column, planting is just a preliminary. The actual subject is the first fruits. The macro text of the three columns is in fact an ordered set, just like the micro text triads. At first, in L, we are presented with potential breeding and sowing of seeds. However, since the mixtures are forbidden, they exist only as potential, seeds. This is followed by actual sowing, intercourse, in M, and finally, harvesting the first fruits of planting in R. The order is “realization” or increase, L, seeds; M, sowing; R, harvesting. This reading is a major breakthrough. Now we have hard evidence that the pericope is a conceptual unit. Even more important in the larger picture, we have convincing evidence that there is indeed a super-text, one that is totally inaccessible without an understanding of the structure. It is a meta-legal text in the form of an extended simile that uses the individual laws to paint a picture. We will see that once the “big picture” is grasped, each of the laws takes on new meaning and reveals the details of the inner text. This is precisely the reason that we are examining the structure of the Torah, in order to integrate its parts in a coherent blueprint that will help us discover the function of each of the parts in creating the whole. Let’s look now at the implications of what we have learned so far.

The Conceptual Middle

Our first impression of the pericope was that it is chaotic, lacking both a unifying theme and clear order between its parts. We saw the placement of the saga of the promised handmaiden as especially problematic. It seemed more “logical” that all the laws dealing with agriculture, L and R, should come together rather than being separated by the narrative in M. Once we have seen that the three parts of the pericope form an ordered triad, we can appreciate the rhetoric of the Torah. The middle differs in kind from the extremes by its very nature. The promised handmaid seemed out of place because of our expectations, not because of an inconsistency within the Torah. I will expand on this point after we examine some more of the details of the pericope.

I mentioned earlier that a “true” reading of the Torah often contains within it an element that testifies to its authenticity. Our reading of the pericope as an ordered triad painting a picture of “generation” is such a case. As soon as we see that the pericope has a conceptual middle according to the theme of generation, it becomes apparent that it contains other themes that are organized according to the same principle. The themes are themselves “threads” that tie the parts of the pericope together. One of these threads is found by considering the legal format of each of the columns. All the mixtures of the first section, L, are strictly forbidden. Planting trees, in the third column, is a positive commandment and the fruit of the fifth year is the source of the blessing of plenty. In the center, between the negative of L and the positive of R, falls the shadow, the gray area. Intercourse with the promised slave is neither condoned nor fully punishable. The middle column is a conceptual middle. It includes the sense of “forbidden” in its first element, A, like all of column L; and like column R it includes a positive commandment, the sin offering.

So we have two totally different rules of order superimposed on each other in the two threads we have seen, the theme of generation, and the legal rule of forbidden-required. One of them, the generation theme, is meta-legal. It paints a “grand picture” of generation that can lead the reader to fascinating realms of speculation, as we will see. And yet, almost as if to contain the speculative flights concerning the metaphorical aspect of the text, it is anchored by the legal framework of forbidden-required, which itself forms an ordered triad using exactly the same three columns as the generation theme. In other words, the spirit of the law, the broad reading which animates the text, is inexorably intertwined with the letter of the law, the literal details of the text.[vii] What they have in common, in our example, are the characteristics of an ordered triad with a conceptual middle. It terms of generation the conceptual middle is the act that defines the line between potential and realized. In the legal reading the conceptual middle comes between forbidden and required.

Three Realms

At this point something significant has happened to our perception of the text. Rather than seeing it as a chaotic collection, we see that it contains multiple themes that integrate the parts in different ways using a single principle of organization, the conceptual middle. Let’s return now to the point where we identified the process of generation and examine more closely just how this theme leads us to new understandings. The three stages, seeds, planting, and harvest, each depend on different parts of their respective columns. Only the first two laws in L, breeding and planting, speak directly of reproduction. The last, mixing “two kinds of stuff,” does not belong to this category. Only element A in column M, “lies carnally,” has any thing to do with the generation theme. Finally, while all three elements of R do speak of fruit, they also contain another constant theme, time. In other words, describing the subject of the pericope as “generation” is only partially true. It does tie together the columns in a logical manner, but it fails to explain all the details if the pericope. The legal theme of “forbidden-required” is also only a partial description. I want to describe now a third thread that encompasses characteristics of all nine separate elements.

We can see the third thread by looking at the types of elements, A-C, in each column. In the first section there are three clearly different prohibitions against mixing varieties of (A) animals, (B) plants and (C) fabrics. The second unit contains three related interactions: (A) sin with the slave, (B) atonement through the priest, and (C) forgiveness from God. The third section distinguishes between three consecutive blocks of time: (A) the first to third years, (B) the fourth, and (C) the fifth. So the three triads point to three different realms: discrete (classes of) objects, (L); interactions, (M); and time or process, (R). Our experience with the first two threads should help us integrate these realms.

The Conceptual Middle as a Hermeneutic Tool

We noted that both our previous readings, the picture of generation and the legal ordering, contained conceptual middles. The middle integrated the opposite aspects of the extremities: potential and realized, forbidden and obligatory. These observations lead us to look for a way of reading the realms of the third thread so as to grasp the extremes as opposites. Once we do, we can test the reading by seeing whether the middle (column M) is a conceptual middle, whether it integrates the opposites. Looking again at column L we can note that the triple use of kelaim, non-mixing, serves to emphasize a concept such as separate, discrete or unique, as the conceptual basis of the column. Therefore, we can expect the subject of R to be the opposite of discrete. The subject we found in the third column, time or process, can be understood to indicate a continuum. That would make the opposites “discrete” and “continuous.”

We can now employ the rule of the conceptual middle to test this pair of opposites. We need only ask, in what way does the story of the promised handmaid combine the concepts “discrete” and “continuous”? The answer is found in our initial perplexity concerning the semi-narrative format of M that seemed so out of place compared with the simple imperatives of the adjacent columns. Three discrete actions, sin, repentance, and forgiveness, create a process akin to the continuum of time in column R. A single character, the sinner, moving through three different scenes, provides the continuity of the actions. The narrative style in M is inextricably connected with it being a conceptual middle. As a “story” it has chronological continuity, like column R, while dividing into three discrete “scenes” like column L. What then is the subject of the whole pericope according to the reading that emphasizes the narrative aspect of the middle? It would appear to be something like “action.”

Action has two components, the moving object, and the measure of movement, time. According to this reading column L indicates discrete objects, and R time. The middle integrates the two extremes in its narrative. This reading has the advantage of integrating other characteristics of the pericope. We noted earlier that column L is ordered according to a rule of animation. This subject fits in very well with the over-view “action.” We could even go so far as to say that this theme also explains why the generation theme exits in this pericope. Perhaps we are seeing a representation of a Freudian variation of Aristotle’s explanation of motion: objects are set in motion by a desire to generate. As I have cautioned, it is very tempting to speculate about the meaning of the pericope. In fact, I am beginning to think that the literary structure we are unraveling actually invokes the reader’s creativity. Once the reader has recognized the complex beauty of the text, it is virtually impossible for him not to invent theories about its meaning. This personal involvement serves to animate the text for the reader and turn it into a “tree of life.”

One and Many

I want to offer one more thread to use in weaving an interpretation of the pericope. It is based on the distinction between the verb forms used in columns L and R, a distinction that unfortunately is lost in the English translation. All the verbs in L are in the singular while all those in R are in the plural. The prohibitions of L are addressed to an individual while the obligations of R are addressed to a collective. This distinction between an individual and society as a whole may be another aspect of the distinction between discrete and continuous. Continuity is connected with society, not with the individual. This clarifies the introduction to RA: “When you come into the land.” It indicates an historical perspective applicable to the group rather than an individual. Reading the polarity of L and R as “individual and society” provides an excellent framework for the central column.

The narrative of column M depicts the tension between the desires of an individual and the accepted social norms. Our hero has a one-night fling with a saucy serving wench. (This is where I get in the sex for a best seller.) He cannot have any serious intentions because she is both a slave and promised to another man if and when she is released. The text goes out of its way to emphasize that this is a one-off event by the language it chooses to use. The word that we have been translating “promised,” nechrefet, appears nowhere else in the Torah. Also bikoret, translated “an inquiry” has no clear parallel in the Torah. This unique event is described in unique language. There is no crime of adultery here, since a slave cannot actually be engaged[viii]. Yet even though they cannot be punished for adultery, a public hearing is held in order to make known societies disapproval. Even though this brief affair between consenting adults is not, properly speaking, a crime, it is also not socially acceptable. If the offending individual cannot achieve retribution for his offense to society through punishment, what channels are left open to him? He must turn from his private individualistic passions, to a renewed identification with social norms. He demonstrates his identification with the common weal by presenting himself at the central social institution, the Tabernacle, with his guilt offering in hand. A public official, the priest, accepts the offering and effects the sinner’s atonement before God. After he has participated in the ritual of atonement, he is forgiven and returns to the fold. The individual of column L and the group of column R have made peace.

The Middle is the Focus

We have read the pericope in several different ways and have by no means exhausted its possibilities. I want to take a break now from reading the text in order to consolidate some of the ideas that have cropped up in passing. As different as the readings are, they all have certain characteristics in common. These characteristics are part of the structure of the text, specifically, the ordered triad with its conceptual center. The order of the parts of an ordered triad differs from the order of argumentation. In conversation we would first present a pair of opposites and then the concept that unites them. In abstract terms this can be described as the “thesis, antithesis, synthesis” pattern. This is in fact the method we have just devised for reading the triads of the Torah: compare the opposites and extract them from the middle. The conceptual middle is understood last. However, the Torah is not written with the conceptual middle as the last term. As we have seen, the Torah utilizes a “thesis, synthesis, antithesis” pattern.

The two patterns can be characterized as aural and visual. The aural pattern, the pattern of speech, can be processed by the mind as it is heard. The visual pattern, the one that places the middle in the middle, must be deconstructed to make it understandable. We have to compare the extreme elements and identify them as poles before we can understand the middle element as a conceptual middle. The principle of organization we are speaking about, the conceptual middle, bears an intriguing resemblance to the arrangement of the camps around the holy center, and the arrangement of the Torah around Leviticus. The conceptual middle is apparently just a specific case of a more fundamental rule. What I described as “the visual pattern” of ordered triads seems to be another aspect of focal symmetry. The symmetrical arrangement of agricultural laws around the narrative of the promised slave is no different in kind from the arrangement of the historical narrative of the Torah around the core of Tabernacle material.

If the conceptual middle is an aspect of focal symmetry, what does that imply? The most obvious implication is that the plan of the Torah is consistent. It uses the same rule of organization both on the macro level of the five books of the Pentateuch as well as on the micro level of the smallest coherent structures, a single pericope. From the perspective of the reader, it means that she must constantly be aware that the text uses visual orientation. This does not present a problem when reading historical narrative because the time line is also visual- the middle is in the middle. However, it can be critical when trying to understand the logic behind other parts of the text, as we are seeing in the laws of Leviticus 19. Another possible implication of the relationship between focal symmetry and the conceptual middle is that the middle is the focus.

In order to understand what we might gain from seeing the conceptual middle as the focus, let’s consider once again what we found in our ordered triad. We determined that the central element derived its significance from combining the adjacent elements. This relationship can be understood in two ways. We could say that we are simply describing a more or less mechanical device used to create an ordered set, or we could say that it implies a conceptual precedence between the elements. Let’s follow the latter line of reasoning. The fact that we saw the middle as a derivative of the extremes seems to imply that the extremes have primary importance and the middle only a secondary significance. This view is based on the order of reason that establishes the synthesis at the end of the process of analysis. The text, however, places the conceptual middle, the synthesis, at the center. This could imply that it is also “central,” takes precedence, conceptually. Let see how this might work in the macro structure. For example, take the triad “second part of Exodus, Leviticus, first part of Numbers.” The divine service is in Leviticus. This is the conceptual center, the point of origin. The significance of the surrounding material is a derivative of the focus. Practically speaking, if there is going to be s divine service (Leviticus), a tabernacle must be built (Exodus) and maintained (Numbers). There are two different principles intertwined here, conceptual precedence, and chronological precedence. The central element, the service, has conceptual precedence. The other elements are there to serve it. Chronological precedence exists between the extremes- the Tabernacle must be built before it needs to be maintained. How does this principle apply to the promised handmaiden?

The man who appears in column M is the focus of the whole pericope is a “real” man, subject to temptation and regret, impulsive, a man of action. As “man” he lives in a bipolar reality. It is composed of both monads and a continuum. These are categories that find expression in many different bipolar arrangements such as: individual and society, event and history, etc. Human life is defined within the tensions of these bipolar experiences. The text exemplifies this tension through the narrative of the central column and clarifies it by separating the poles into the adjacent columns. Human experience, the narrative, takes place between the poles. The extremities exist in a “pure” form outside of the narrative, as derivatives of experience. Focusing on the central element provides an existential reading of the text. We begin with the “human situation,” the tension between individual desires and social/religious expectations. The tension is enunciated in the adjacent columns, uniqueness or “selfness” in L, and the fruits of social continuity in R. And so, we have yet another reading of the pericope, an existential reading focused on human experience. The advantage of this reading is that it is consistent with the focal symmetry of the macro text. We will return to this point in the following chapters.

Seeing the Tree in the Seed

Let’s step back a bit now to have a better view of the picture. We are looking into the very heart of the Torah. We have achieved this privileged position by following an intricate series of textual clues that opened invisible doors with magical keys. At the same time we avoided the stumbling blocks placed in the text for the incautious. Here at the core we find an exquisite miniature. The overall theme of this mini-text is reproduction, or the life force, or creation. The central character is an individual torn between his appetites and his desire to live at peace with his community. At absolute center point of the central unit of text, in MB, we find: “he shall bring a guilt offering for himself to the Lord, to the door of the tent of meeting, a ram for a guilt offering. And the priest shall make atonement for him with the ram of the guilt offering before the Lord for his sin which he has committed.” Exactly at the focal point of Leviticus, without any apparent connection to the immediate surrounding material, we see an individual bring a sacrifice to a priest at the Tabernacle. Isn’t this awfully reminiscent of Blake’s “see the universe in a grain of sand”? The absolutely indivisible, atomic, center point of Leviticus contains the image of the whole! Within the heart of the pericope that presents a picture of generation lies the seed that grows into the book. This is the link to the Rabbi’s “watering stone,” the central point from which all flows out.

A Mystical Link

It is not impossible that the secrets of the esoteric text were seen as the secrets of creation itself. This theory can be supported by evidence in what is generally accepted as the oldest extent work of Jewish mysticism, Sefer Yitzirah, “A Handbook of Creation.” The third chapter of Sefer Yitzirah describes a tripartite division of reality. Its terms are Shanah, time; Nefesh, spirit; and Olam, space, or the physical world. This is similar to the picture of creation divided between heaven (time) and earth (the physical world) with man (spirit) in the middle bridging the gap between heaven and earth.[ix] We have no problem identifying the central column of our pericope with Nefesh. The text of Sefer Yitzirah specifically refers to Nefesh as “male and female.” This, in fact, explains a difficulty we spotted in the text earlier. The central column seemed out of place referring to human reproduction while the left and right columns had only non-human elements. This then is consistent with Sefer Yitzerah’s categories, having Nefesh (spirit) in the middle between the realms of time or process (Shanah) and physical objects, Olam. Within our text, the word “year,” mentioned in the context of the first fruits, is precisely the Hebrew term used by Sefer Yitzerah, Shanah. We thus have two of Yitzerah’s categories absolutely identified with two parts of our triad. The third realm, Olam, is the world of physical objects. It seems appropriate to identify the section on inappropriate mixtures with Olam, the world of separate individualized objects. And so the text at the very heart of the Torah is consistent with Sefer Yitzerah’s tripartite reality. Our text, again like Yitzerah, links the three realms in a single process, reproduction. In Sefer Yitzerah the unifying process is divine creation.[x] The esoteric Torah focuses on the process of creation, the life force. Column L signifies potential and R realization. Man, in the center, is the agent for the realization of the potential in creation. The esoteric rhetoric of the Torah places man, M, at the center of the process of creation, at the crux between the One (uniqueness in L) and the many (the blessing of plenty in R.) Man stands between the trees of life on the left and knowledge on the right[xi].

Addendum 1: A Useful Tool

There is a simple figure to be derived from the textual triad that will prove extremely useful in visualizing the esoteric structure of the Torah, especially Leviticus. We noted an apparent inconsistency in the three-part process of reproduction that has agriculture to the right and left of human intercourse. It seemed to create a mixed metaphor. We can see a similar mixed figure in the three-part structure of our chapter. Rows 1 and 3 are inextricably linked and similar to each other. The triad of row 2 separates them. Going beyond the limits of our chapter, we can note the same figure connecting chapters 18-20. The primary subject of both chapters 18 and 20 is forbidden intercourse. Chapter 19 separates them, just as row two within chapter 19 separates rows 1 and 3, and human intercourse in the center of row 2 separates agricultural elements. If we take the central element of row two, the promised slave, and view its triad also as having a “focus,” we come up with the following focal structure for chapters 18-20.

Chapter 18: forbidden relations

Row 1 chapter19

 2L Forbidden mixtures

2MA Sin

2MB Repentance

2MC Forgiveness

2R First fruit

Row 3 chapter 19

1.   Chapter 20: punishments for forbidden relations

Essentially, this format is identical to the “focal point symmetry” of chapter one, where we compared the structure of the camp to the structure of the book. We began the analysis from the outside in, from the overall structure of the Torah, to the structure of its central book. We are now looking from the inside out, from the focal point to what is positioned before and after it. On the micro level we have seen that the center point is conceptually balanced. Repentance stands between sin and forgiveness. We have also seen that the whole triad of 2M collapses into a conceptual middle between 2L and 2R. That is to say, not only is 2M made up of a symmetrically constructed conceptual triad, but taken as a whole, it is the middle of a higher level triad of identical construction. This arrangement could be termed “hermeneutic Russian dolls.” It immediately leads us to look for the next doll: is line 2 a conceptual middle between lines 1 and 3? On the next level, is chapter 19 a conceptual middle between 18 and 20? How many dolls are there? How many levels of order can we describe with the same figure?

Addendum 2: Theoretical Implications

The pericope has three levels of order. The first level is made up of the nine individual “atomic” laws or events, the units marked A-C in the columns. The second level consists of the three triads of the columns. The third level is the triad of triads, the pericope read as a whole. The third level and the second level share at least one characteristic. They are both composed of ordered sets, specifically, ordered triads. It would appear that the text is trying to tell us something about ordered triads. It has shown us five examples: the three columns, the triad of triads, and the three levels of order. The last example, the levels of order, can even be represented mathematically: “the individual element (1) stands in the same ratio to the column (3) as the column (3) stands to the whole (9).” By examining this last statement we can see one of the essential characteristics if the ordered triad. While the numbers 1 and 9 appear only once, the number 3 appears twice. That is to say, the middle element of the triad differs significantly from the extremes in that it is a compound and they are simple. The middle has two characteristics vis-à-vis the other elements, while the extremes have but one. Taking column R as an example, we can see how this principle works in a chronologically ordered triad. The first block of time, A, comes before the other two. The last block, C, comes after the previous two. The middle, B, combines these aspects of A and C. It comes after A and before C. So B actually differs in kind from A and C because, as a middle element, it is complex, combining characteristics of the extremes, “beforeness” from A and “afterness” from C.