Drawing Near

In the Torah portions leading up to the book of Vayikra, the Tabernacle is brought into being through Israel’s heartfelt giving. With Parashat Vayikra (Lev. 1:1–5:26), we enter the very heart of the Torah, with the laws of korbanot—the daily offerings, either eaten or consumed by fire. Giving brought the Tabernacle into existence; giving, in a deeper sense, brought the universe into existence. The daily korbanot in the Temple teach that giving sustains our world.

Some regard korbanot as savage or even primitive, despite the fact that we still slaughter animals for clothing and food. This is precisely why these instructions open the book of Vayikra: to ensure that the priesthood carries out this sacred service correctly and with purity of intent. When performed as commanded, the korban is called a “sweet-smelling savor,” a phrase that appears four times in the book of Leviticus.

The meaning of korban itself is instructive. It comes from a Hebrew root meaning “to draw near.” This root appears in related words:

Kravah — closeness or proximity

Lehakriv — to bring near or to offer

Makriv — one who brings near or offers

It is also related to k’ruvim, the winged figures atop the Ark. Some have even suggested that their wings actually “draw in” unseen energy, reflecting a deeper idea of nearness and connection. Linguist Isaac Mozeson has suggested that this k-r-b root may even lie behind the English word “crave,” hinting that what we long for is, at its core, a desire for closeness to HaShem.

The practice of korbanot teaches that we do not place animal life above human life, but neither do we treat it casually. In Vayikra, God calls out to Moses—to draw us near—reminding us that Creation itself is an expression of His desire to bestow goodness. He invites us to partake in the ultimate good: knowledge of, and closeness to, Him. That knowledge was given to Israel through the Torah.

In their various forms, the korbanot elevate and bless the animal, vegetable, and mineral realms. The Torah teaches that the essential path to atonement is teshuva—sincere repentance. Maimonides (Hilchot Teshuva 2:2) explains that teshuva grants forgiveness by Hashem at any time. It involves heartfelt remorse, confession, and a firm resolve not to repeat the sin.

What, then, of Yom Kippur?

For the Jewish people, Yom Kippur is unique. On this “Day of Atonement,” Hashem grants a special kapparah—a spiritual cleansing that surpasses the regular process of teshuva. The Talmud (Yoma 85b) teaches that Yom Kippur has the power to atone for sins committed over the past year, provided that one has engaged in teshuva.

This raises another question: if repentance itself brings forgiveness, what role did the daily korbanot play in the Beit HaMikdash?

The offerings served as a powerful physical and visual expression of return to Hashem. Witnessing the death of an innocent animal in place of the transgressor was meant to awaken sorrow and a genuine desire to repent. After teshuva comes the offering which brings full atonement. In this sense, korban is a divine gift, helping us reconnect and reconcile with Hashem. With the destruction of the Temple, the power of teshuva was not diminished. Rather, our service was elevated inward—through prayer, intention, and righteous action.

Korbanot also reflect the natural order of creation, where all things are interconnected and serve a higher purpose. The offerings—water, minerals, plants, and animals—are linked in a sacred cycle, a flow of divine energy that sustains life. In the Temple, witnessing the daily offerings revealed both the harmony of creation and our role within it.

Instead of being passively consumed by the world, we bring an offering and participate consciously in repairing the breaches we create through misuse of the life-sustaining resources of the mineral, plant, and animal realms. In doing so, we return matter to its source and elevate it once more. We returned and ultimately—we draw near to Hashem, whom we deeply crave to be near.