Mishnah Yoma Chapter 2 Mishnah 2 Pt. 2

It seems that the queer priestly ancestors (sometimes considered the prototype for the queer rabbinic ancestors) were really getting a sweat-on (get your minds out of the gutter!) with all this running up and down the ramp! We learned earlier that in order to receive the sacred task of collecting the ash from the incense that the priests / kohanim / כהנים would race each other up the ramp into the entrance. In today’s text we see an escalation—one priest pushes another priest, causing that priest to break their leg. So much for all the fun and games.

And let’s say it again because it bears repeating—we are in the middle of Masechet Yoma which focuses on all of these high-stakes rituals surrounding Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement. All of the details, all of the late nights studying with elders, ritual immersions, the specificities of clothing and speech, everything is in order to effectuate both a cosmological and terrestrial reparation of community, self, and earth. The priests, and especially the High Priest / Kohen Gadol / כהן הגדול are at the center of this intentional gathering that profoundly impacts both the human and Divine consciousness for the year to come. So what’s with all the games, and all the more so now that someone has become hurt? How are we supposed to trust these folks at the center of ritual / cultic power?

I found myself struck by the root of the word “to push”, ד–ח–פ. As it turns out, this root is related to another root, ד–ח–י, which also means “to push”, but comes to also mean “to postpone” or “to supersede.” You might think of it as a more abstract or metaphoric form of the word “to push”. It’s a root that is very common in the Talmud in a discussion of what kind of activities can “supersede” Shabbat or other ritual observances. (Such as saving a life, protecting an innocent animal, securing the long-term safety of ones field or home, preserving someone’s dignity, etc.) The Talmud deals extensively with this subject of what can be “pushed off” and when, but all of a sudden there is no rule in place to say to the Kohanim, “No pushing on the ramps”? My gut tells me that there’s a deep spiritual lesson in this—that life cannot be entirely contained by rules, that no number of explicit rules will ever control human urges or tendencies for selfishness & competition, even amongst the people who hold the highest level of responsibility. Now does that mean that we should abandon rules, regulations, guidelines, guide posts, protocols, etc.? No, I don’t think so, and the Talmud certainly doesn’t think so. But I believe this story, with it’s initial taste of silliness and later it’s bitter taste of harm, is a call to the discipline that a kind life is, the regular practice of checking oneself even when you feel that no one is looking, or there isn’t a direct rule in place. To be holy, to really effectuate repair in this world, we need to start with our interpersonal relationships, the ones that aren’t on the public stage, but perhaps which are the place where we can most organically practice the process of responsibility & reparation that we long to see in the broader world. Can’t wait to learn with y’all again soon!