Rebbe Yehuda Hanasi said:…One should be as careful with a light mitzvah as with a heavy mitzvah (Avot 2:1). While (it is generally assumed that) the Torah contains 613 mitzvot (see here), they are not all equally important. The mitzvah not to mix meat and milk cannot be equated with the command not to murder. Nor can the prohibition of shatnez, mixing wool and linen, be compared to the obligation to conduct one’s business dealings faithfully. As a general rule, sins of commission, mitzvot lo ta’aseh, are of greater import than sins of omission, mitzvot aseh. And within mitzvoth lo ta’aseh, those that carry a death penalty or the punishment of karet are clearly of greater importance. 

In addition, there is a fundamental difference between a rabbinic command, such as taking a lulav for all the days of Sukkot even outside the Temple, and a biblical one, such as the prohibition of disparaging a competitor’s product; and one who equates rabbinic and biblical commands is in violation of the prohibition of “adding to the Torah” (see Rambam, Hilchot Mamrim 2:13-16). While the Torah allows and even obligates the Sages of each generation to introduce legislation to deal with the issues of the day, the line between divinely ordained commands and human ones must not be crossed. 

Nonetheless, and while in no way disagreeing with the above, violating any of the mitzvoth of the Torah means violating a Divine command. Does it really matter what the nature is of the Divine command that we are flaunting? It is ignoring the will of G-d that underlies every sin. Does it really matter if it is a “light” or “heavy” mitzvah[1]

The notion that all mitzvot are to be treated equally – even as we acknowledge the greater importance of one over another[2] – is a central motif of Yom Kippur, the day we stand before the King of Kings and beg for forgiveness. During Temple times, atonement was effected through the sair hamistaleach, the goat thrown off a mountaintop, symbolically taking our sins with it. 

“For all other[3] sins—the light and the heavy, the intentional or inadvertent, whether he knows or does not, the positive and negative, [sins that carry the punishment of] karet, death by court—the sair that is sent away atones" (Shevuot 2b).

The phrase, “the light mitzvot”, the Gemara (Shevuot 12b) explains, refers to both neglecting the positive mitzvot and violating (most) negative mitzvot; the heavy mitzvot are those 36 mitzvot that carry the punishment of karet and those sins for which the Torah prescribes, in theory at least, a death penalty. Yet all are atoned for the same way, through the sair hamistaleach.

But what about teshuva? That repentance is a prerequisite for atonement is a given. Without it, the Gemara explains, any sacrifice brought would fall into the category of “the sacrifices of the wicked are an abomination” (Mishlei 21:27). Yet if one did teshuva, why the need to wait until the sair hamistaleach is sent away on Yom Kippur? “If one violated a positive command and repented [by doing the mitzvah], we do not move from there until he is forgiven”.

Interestingly, what makes one wicked is not so much the sin (though depending on the sin that, too, might qualify), but the hypocrisy of bringing a sacrifice with no intention to repent. That is the abomination[4].  

I find it fascinating that the Gemara applies this verse to the sair hamistaleach, even if it is only one person who does not intend to repent. It’s as if one Jew not doing teshuva invalidates the atonement for all others, and while this may not be technically true, there is much truth to that idea. Our rabbis took the statement, “All Jews are responsible for one another” very seriously. If others are not as committed to Torah as we would like, then we must ask what can we do differently that will serve as an inspiration for others.   

But why is there no mention of the need for teshuva? The Gemara explains that this is because in actual fact, our Mishna assumes teshuva is not necessary. While the Sages would declare the sair brought on his behalf to be an abomination, Rebbe Yehuda Hanasi disagrees and argues that even when one “continues in his rebellion”, Yom Kippur, i.e., the sair hamistaleach, atones. This sounds like a license to sin, as we can ignore the need to repent and let Yom Kippur do its magic – a path many would be happy to adopt. Can it really be that Rebbe does not require one to do teshuva?

Rav Soloveitchik, in his classic work Al Hateshuva, explains that atonement works on both a personal and communal level. Rebbe agrees that when it comes to personal sins, teshuva is the prerequisite for atonement. But all Jews share in the communal fate of the Jewish people, and as long as one remains part of the community, one can share in the atonement of the sair hamistaleach.  

This is a notion that should resonate well with us – both in a positive way and sadly, in a negative way as well. Our enemies do not distinguish between the observant and the nonobservant in their hatred of the Jewish people. And thankfully, there are many, deeply committed to the Jewish people, even as they have chosen not to accept the binding nature of the Torah commands. Yet they share in the atonement of the Jewish people. 

This distinction is borne out by the three exceptions where even Rebbe agrees that teshuva is necessary to gain atonement. “One who throws off the yoke [of heaven], one who [falsely] reveals the Torah”—which Rashi explains as meaning that one ridicules our Sages’ understanding of the Torah—and one who “nullifies the covenant of circumcision” (Shevuot 13a). These are actions that display a disdain for the most basic ideas of Jewish peoplehood. There are limits on what one can do and still remain a member in good standing of the Jewish community. 

We today are blessed with many who care deeply about the Jewish people – members in the IDF are just one example – but have not accepted upon themselves the personal yoke of heaven. Only G-d can judge them, and it is likely many will have legitimate reasons explaining why they act as they do (do we?) and grant atonement accordingly. Yet they share and help shape the destiny of the Jewish people.


 

[1] The above is actually a much more modern understanding of this teaching. In the context of the Mishna, the reason to be just as careful with a light mitzvah is, as the Mishna itself explains, “because we do not know the reward for a mitzvah”. In other words, our assumptions about what is more or less important may be faulty. As the Meshech Chochmah (Shemot 12:22) explains (and as we have discussed here), certain mitzvot can take on greater – or lesser – importance due to historical circumstances. Similarly, personal circumstances may make a particular mitzvah more – or less – important than it would otherwise be. 

[2] Acknowledging such remains crucially important, because while theory is nice, in practice, it is impossible not to sin and impossible to observe all the mitzvot. Hence, we need constant reminders of what is more and less important so that we focus greater efforts in those areas of greater importance. Ensuring our business practices are kosher is more important than ensuring our food is, and we must act accordingly.

[3] The only exceptions listed in the Mishna are accidental entry into the Temple, or the eating of sacrificial food while impure.  

[4] In this respect, it is similar to the distinction between a ganav and a gazlan, where the penalty for a gazlan, one who brazenly steals in broad daylight is less than that of a ganav, one who tries to conceal one's crime (Bava Kama 79b). At least the gazlan displays consistency is afraid of no one, and sins openly. Unfortunately, society all too often still treats the white-collar criminal with kid gloves, even if the amounts they steal far, far exceed the “blue-collar” criminal. In this respect, I was dismayed but not surprised to read in yesterday's paper that executives at a major grocery chain who have admitted to price fixing on bread over a 14-year period will not face "criminal charges or other penalites", as they are co-operating with investigators.