Tracie’s Torah Takeaway: Parsha Shemini (Lev 9:1 - 11:47) on Intention and Impact

Written by Tracie Guy-Decker

This week’s portion can be a challenging one. Over the past several parshot (portions), we’ve been reading instructions about how the priests, Aaron’s sons, are supposed to treat different sacrifices offered on the altar of the mishkan, the tabernacle. In this week’s portion, we’ve moved past instructions, and we see Aaron and his sons actually slaughter the calf of sin offering, mark the horns of the altar with its blood, and turn the appropriate bits into smoke upon the altar. We see this happen with Aaron’s sin offering, with the people’s sin offering, and with the people’s offering of well-being. These animal sacrifices happen again and again, pretty much the way we read it was supposed to, with oft-repeated phrases that turn a vegetarian’s stomach, like “the protruberance of the liver.” To be honest, it’s tough for me to to pay close attention or to distinguish between this portion and earlier ones describing sacrifices.

And then something curious happens.

1 Now Aaron’s sons Nadab and Abihu each took his fire pan, put fire in it, and laid incense on it; and they offered before the LORD alien fire, which Gd had not enjoined upon them. 2 And fire came forth from the LORD and consumed them; thus they died at the instance of the LORD. (Lev 9 JPS translation)

There has been much commentary over the years about what this “alien fire” was that the sons of Aaron brought. I admit, as I read with my chevruta, we started speculating as to what that might mean: perhaps it was somehow idolatrous, intended for another god. But then, as is our custom, we turned to the haftarah to see if the paired text might lend insight. 

The haftarah for Shemini is II Samuel 6:1 - 7:17, the story of Uzzah. In II Samuel 6, King David and his followers are transporting the Ark of Gd to Jerusalem, the city of David. The ark is loaded onto a cart, drawn by an ox. Along the way, Uzzah and his brother Ahio are guiding the cart, walking alongside it. David and the other Israelites are dancing ecstatically before the ark, but Uzzah dutifully follows, guiding the cart. 

6 But when they came to the threshing floor of Nacon, Uzzah reached out for the Ark of Gd and grasped it, for the oxen had stumbled. 7 the LORD was incensed at Uzzah. And Gd struck him down on the spot for his indiscretion, and he died there beside the Ark of Gd. 8 David was distressed because the LORD had inflicted a breach upon Uzzah… (II Samuel 6 JPS translation)

When we put poor Uzzah in conversation with Nadab and Abihu, suddenly the “alien fire” stops looking like something truly wicked. Instead, this “alien fire” starts to look more like what is discernible from the text itself: Gd had not asked for it. On initial read, I think I wanted to believe Nadab and Abihu had ill intentions so that they would somehow deserve their fate. By putting Uzzah in proximity with them, I believe our tradition is inviting me to dig deeper. The lesson is the recognition that intention and impact are not the same. 

Uzzah clearly had good intentions. He wanted to steady the ark when the oxen stumbled. He likely believed he was protecting the ark from damage or from the disrespect of falling to the ground. (Indeed, what would have happened if Uzzah had not “grasped the Ark of Gd”? Would it have fallen and smashed to bits, angering Adonai to the point of destroying all those present? Would Adonai have intervened in some other way to prevent its injury?) But the impact of Uzzah’s action--an inappropriate/unauthorized touch of the ark--caused Gd’s anger. When it comes to the consequences, it seems Uzzah’s intentions don’t matter. 

“But wait,” you might be saying to yourself, “intention does matter in Judaism. We are told we must have the correct kavana, or an intention, when we perform mitzvot (commandments).” And, yes, that’s true. But what I’m gleaning from this portion and its companion haftarah is that intention can enhance impact, but it cannot negate it. In other words, intention matters, but not more than impact.

This is a difficult lesson. It feels fundamentally unfair that Uzzah should be punished so harshly despite his good intentions. And, when we give Nadab and Abihu the benefit of the doubt and assume they also had good intentions when they brought the alien fire, their deaths feel equally unfair. Our texts don’t minimize that feeling. In fact, King David decides he’d rather not have the ark in his house after he sees Uzzah’s death. And yet, the impact remains. 

Even to the writer of II Samuel, this lesson was hard. It is made harder by our contemporary culture. Western culture, and especially American culture, places a heavy emphasis on individualism and by extension on individuals’ intentions. “It’s the thought that counts,” after all. Indeed, this primacy of the individual is behind much of what Robin DiAngelo calls “white fragility,” that predictable set of behaviors we white folks tend to have when we are called in for racist behaviors or words. “That isn’t what I meant!” is often at the core of a response in that situation. 

Nadab, Abihu and Uzzah aren’t given the chance to say “That isn’t what I meant!” Even if they were, I hardly think it would make a difference. What this parsha teaches, and what we would do well to internalize, is that there are consequences for our unintended impacts. If we are to move toward collective liberation and get back to dancing before Gd, we must be ready to face those consequences--and do what we can to mitigate them--regardless of what we “meant” to do. 

To hear more of Tracie’s thoughts, tune into her and April’s podcast, Jews Talk Racial Justice. Check out full episodes with video (CC included) and discussion questions on our website! Listen on Apple Podcasts, YouTube, or wherever you download your podcasts, and don't forget to leave us a review!