By Sam Edelman

When we last left our Israelite heroes, they had just spent seven days inaugurating their newly constructed Mishkan. Shemini begins on the eighth day (yom shemini). It starts out with some fun descriptions of sacrificial offerings (“They shall bring the thigh of the raising up and the breast of the waving upon the fats for fire offerings to wave as a waving before the Lord”) and ends with some equally fun descriptions of exactly what types of animals and insects are unkosher abominations (including any “creeping creatures that creep”). If you are interested in investing some meaning in these pretty arbitrary (imho) laws, you should check out this cool dvar torah that discusses consuming food intentionally and responsibly as an expression of spirituality. But that’s not what I want to talk about. I want to focus on the most famous incident of this parsha, the death of Aaron’s sons Nadav and Avihu.

Here are the verses (Leviticus 10:1-2) that describe their death (translation courtesy of chabad.org, much like my and Lily’s birthright trip…):

1And Aaron's sons, Nadab and Abihu, each took his pan, put fire in them, and placed incense upon it, and they brought before the Lord foreign fire, which the Lord had not commanded them.

2And fire went forth from before the Lord and consumed them, and they died before the Lord.

Is it just me, or does it seem like G-d might be overreacting a bit? All Nadav and Avihu did was make an offering to G-d. True, it was in some unspecified way “foreign” (the Hebrew literally translates to “strange”), and it had not specifically been commanded, but does that really necessitate their death? Since it was written, this episode has caused confusion and debate among biblical scholars and commentators. After a bit of googling, I found several theories as to

exactly what sin Aaron’s sons committed. Some ideas include that they were drunk, that they thought they were better than Moses and Aaron, or that G-d, much like a pushy Jewish mother, was upset that they weren’t married and having children (I can only hope some of our own Jewish mothers will react less violently to that particular abhorrence). But these explanations are all based on a lot of inference and guesswork; I’m not convinced. It seems to me like the lesson here is pretty straightforward: deviate in any way from doing exactly what G-d commands, and you’re toast.

I imagine I’m not the only one that has trouble accepting this authoritarian vision of G-d. When I think about it in an HDNA context, it’s even more disturbing. In the movement, we tend to favor creative observances that hold more meaning for us rather than strictly adhering to the letter of the law. Does that make us like Nadav and Avihu? Are our offerings, however heartfelt, still “foreign” or “strange?” We believe that shivyon erech haadam, the equality of human value, means each individual’s unique offerings are what makes our community so strong. But maybe that’s what Nadav and Avihu did wrong: by giving their own, uncalled for offerings, they took a special privilege for themselves and, whether or not it was their intention, could be seen as trying to elevate themselves above the rest of the community. The whole community had just spent seven days making preparations together and according to the guidelines set by G-d and transmitted through Moses, so maybe the problem was not only that Nadav and Avihu strayed from G-d’s instructions, but also from the wishes of the people. Before they brought their strange fire, Aaron performed the ritual sacrifices that Moses specifically instructed him

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