Yom Kippur 5776 talk by Sam Bagenstos
When Deb Kraus asked me to give a talk on the scapegoat parsha, I was intrigued and intimidated. It should be obvious why I was intimidated—this is a deeply learned crowd, and the chances of embarrassing myself by offering some half-baked reaction to one of the most studied portions of Torah were high.
But why was I intrigued? Well, in part it goes back to my days misbehaving in Hebrew School. In Fourth Grade or so, all my buddies and I did was try to learn to curse in Hebrew. I remember one of them leaning over in class, whispering to me what he said was the Hebrew for “Go to Hell!”—I still don’t know whether he was right; we were all just making stuff up—which is the first time I recall hearing the word, “Azazel.” Yes, even though it was the Seventies, “Go to Hell!” was as transgressive as we got, I’m ashamed to say.
Ever since then, I’ve found the scapegoat story somewhat fascinating. I mean, we’re Jews—I thought we didn’t have much of an idea of Hell, or a devil, or anything like that. Yet here we see, right in Leviticus—the most prescriptively legalistic book of the Torah—that Aaron must take the two goats and draw lots, with one goat designated for the Lord and the other “for Azazel.”
This is apparently the only place in the Torah in which the word “Azazel” appears. And a debate has raged for centuries about what, exactly, the word means. Some do in fact interpret “Azazel” as referring to a demon, evil demigod, or fallen angel. (The suffix “-el” often denotes an angel’s name.) Others interpret “Azazel” as referring to a rough mountain—in other words, it’s the place where the goat is sent. Note that the Torah does not say anything about what happens to Azazel’s goat once it is set free. It just says that “the goat shall carry on it all [the Israelites’] iniquities to an inaccessible region; and the goat shall be set free in the wilderness.” Nonetheless, the Mishnah tells us that the tradition during the time of the Temple was to push the scapegoat off of a hard, rocky cliff. And “Azazel” may simply have referred to the cliff.
But then there’s the third, simplest interpretation. “Azazel” might refer to the goat itself. “Ez”—Hebrew for goat—plus “azal”—apparently the Aramaic word for “to go.” So “Azazel” might simply mean, roughly, “the goat that went away”—just as the English “scapegoat” means “the goat that escaped.” Obviously, it’s the first of these definitions that inspires my title, Sympathy for Azazel—thanks Mick and Keith!—but I’m actually more interested in the other two, as you’ll see. [Read more…] about Sympathy for Azazel










