Vayikra: Bringing Our Authentic Selves as A Korban

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The pasuk in Vayikra commands us emphatically to salt every korban: “And you shall salt every one of your meal offering sacrifices with salt and you shall not omit the salt of your G-d’s covenant from your meal offerings. You shall offer salt on all your sacrifices.” The repetitive nature of the command to add salt clearly indicates there is a spiritual depth to the addition of salt, something of real significance. Yet, while salt is demanded for each korban, we are forbidden to enhance our korbanot with leaven or honey. Why is this the case?

Rabbi Jeremy Golker explains that when we add salt to the cooking process, its function is to bring out the flavor intrinsic to the food. Adding salt to chicken allows us to taste the chicken, sprinkling salt on vegetable soup enables us to enjoy the combined taste of the various vegetables. Conversely, adding honey in fact distorts the food. Although it enhances and sweetens the taste of the dish, it disguises the flavor of the dish itself.

When we learn about korbanot, we are not studying sacrifices external to us. The depth of a korban, linguistically derived from kareiv, to draw near, is that the sacrifice is us. We are the mincha offering, we are the olah, we are the shelamim. Since the korban is not just an offering but a symbol of ourselves it is only fitting that we do not permit the addition of honey, which cloaks us in layers of superficiality, but salt, which draws out our true potential.

The sweetest offering we can bring Hashem is not dipped in honey, but in salt. Our truest, authentic self. Not a long, drawn-out davening to look connected. But whatever tefilla we truly can and desire to produce. On Purim, Hashem shed His mask. Parshat Vayikra reminds us to shed our mask too. Add the salt, serve Hashem with our kochot and individuality and remove the honey, the artificial layers of performance, of what people will think.

This brings us forward to Pesach as well. The pasuk tells us that both leaven and honey are prohibited to be added to a korban. The sefarim tells us that chametz (leaven) represents arrogance: the puffed-up, air-filled, pompous version of matza. On Pesach, we remove every last trace of chametz, serving Hashem with simplicity and humility, with the most basic of ingredients: flour and water. With our most authentic selves. The chametz products, the inflated false version of ourselves, goes up in flames as we perform biur chametz.

There is a beautiful Gemara¹ where Rav Yosef says “If not for the day of Matan Torah, how many Yosefs would there be in the marketplace?” Rav Yosef is teaching that without the spiritual elevation of Torah, he would be nothing more than an “average Joe.” Without Torah which purifies and refines us, Rav Yosef felt nothing would distinguish him from the common man in the marketplace.

We should not hide away from who we truly are, we must add salt to our korban. We must not distort who we truly are, we must steer clear of leaven and honey, as tasty as they may be. If we are the type of wife and mother who wants to cook and clean with music in the background, sing and dance for kabbalat shabbat with our children and compose different tunes for zemirot each week– that is our avoda. We do not need to have stunning tablescapes like our neighbor nor perfectly organised cabinets like our sister. We do not need to give shiurim like our cousin nor run a chessed committee like our aunt. We do not need to serve Hashem like any other woman. But we must serve Him like ourselves.

I once heard a very fitting insight into this Gemara. Rav Yosef was not comparing himself to other “Yosefs” but to multiple versions of himself. Rav Yosef was declaring that if not for Torah, there would be so many versions of himself in the marketplace, in the world. There would be a Yosef in learning matters, a Yosef in family matters, a Yosef in public matters and so on. Torah enables us to unite all the disparate parts of ourselves and serve Hashem consistently – and authentically. With Torah, we need not wear many masks. The salt of our personality, our core, is the common pillar holding up all our speech and actions.

We mentioned that the root of the word korban is kareiv, to draw near. There is truly no way to draw closer to Hashem and show our deep love for Him than to be ourselves. Rabbi YY Jacobson says that the best way to show someone you love them is to metaphorically learn their favorite song and play it to them, over and over. G-d’s favorite song, His love language, is the uniqueness of our soul. The more we give it to Him, in all its salty glory, the more we have shown Him our love. And the more He loves us back.