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    PARASHAT VAYIKRA: POSITIVE PEER PRESSURE

    The Torah in Parashat
    Vayikra speaks about
    the procedure for
    offering sacrifices.
    Describing a person who
    brings a sacrifice to the Temple, the Torah
    uses the term “Yakrib Oto” (“He shall offer it”
    – 1:3), which Rashi (Rabbi Shelomo Yishaki
    of Troyes, France, 1040-1105) explains to
    mean that he brings it even against his will.
    Meaning, if a person is required to bring a
    sacrifice, but he refuses, the leaders force
    him to bring the offering. Yet, Rashi notes,
    the very next word in the Torah is “Li’rsono,”
    which means “willfully.” Right after requiring
    that the individual bring the sacrifice even
    if he refuses, the Torah then stipulates that
    sacrifices must be brought willfully, rather
    than under coercion. To reconcile this
    contradiction, Rashi explains, “Kofin Oto Ad
    She’yomar Roseh Ani” – “He is coerced until
    he says, ‘I want’.” In other words, the person
    is subjected to coercive measures until he
    decides to bring the sacrifice willfully.
    What exactly does this mean? How can a
    person be forced to do something willfully? Is
    this not inherently contradictory?
    The conventional explanation of Rashi’s
    comment is that each person, deep down,
    wishes to do the right thing. At the innermost
    recesses of the soul each person experiences

    a genuine desire and longing to fulfill G-d’s
    will. Our inclination to sin is external to
    our true, inner beings, the product of the
    Yeser Ha’ra (evil inclination) in all its many
    manifestations. When a person is coerced to
    fulfill his obligations, what really happens is
    that the external pressures are removed so that
    his true, inner desire can be fulfilled. He is not
    forced to act against his wishes, but rather to
    eliminate the emotional blockades that have
    prevented him from fulfilling his true wishes.
    The Hatam Sofer (Rabbi Moshe Sofer of
    Pressburg, 1762-1839) suggested a different
    explanation of Rashi’s comments. We can
    easily imagine a farmer, for example, who
    commits a sin that requires offering a sacrifice,
    but is very reluctant to do so. He has a large
    agricultural enterprise to tend to, as well as
    family and communal obligations, and he is
    less than eager to take time off to journey to
    Jerusalem and invest in an expensive animal as
    a sacrifice. Plagued by guilt, he ambivalently
    purchases an animal and prepares for his trip.
    His townspeople, of course, hear about what
    he is doing, and mock him.
    “Hey,” they jeer, “you’re going to Jerusalem?
    What do you expect to get out of it? So you
    made a mistake, what’s the big deal?”
    All along his trip, he meets people who
    poke fun at him for being “so religious”
    and bringing a sacrifice in the Mikdash. He

    actually shares their skepticism, and feels no
    desire whatsoever to make this trip. But he
    figures he might as well go through with it,
    and eventually, less than halfheartedly, the
    man arrives at the Bet Ha’mikdash with his
    animal.
    But at the holy site of the Mikdash, his attitude
    suddenly changes. He looks up and sees
    the Kohanim, dressed in their magnificent
    attire, diligently tending to the sacrifices and
    other Temple rituals. He hears the beautiful,
    inspirational music of the Leviyim, and sees
    the Rabbis of the Sanhedrin, the greatest
    sages of the time, convening to discuss the
    most pressing and difficult Halachic issues.
    The sight of the Mikdash and the flurry of
    activity fills the visitor with awe. By now, he
    is no longer reluctant. He feels overjoyed that
    he came to the Mikdash, and happily gives
    the Kohen his sacrifice. And he even decides
    to extend his trip so he can spend more time
    soaking in the special Kedusha of Jerusalem
    and the Bet Ha’mikdash.
    This is how a person can be coerced and
    yet bring his sacrifice willingly. He might
    require some coercion, but once he arrives at
    the Temple, he offers the sacrifice willingly,
    lovingly and joyously.
    This insight of the Hatam Sofer underscores
    the critical importance of placing oneself in
    an atmosphere of positive peer pressure. As

    long as the farmer was in his hometown or
    on the road to Jerusalem, he was discouraged
    from doing the right thing. But once he placed
    himself in the Bet Ha’mikdash, his entire
    perspective changed. Suddenly, fulfilling his
    religious duties was the natural thing to do.
    It was not even a question anymore. The
    encouraging and spiritual aura of the Temple
    aroused his heart and stirred him to lovingly
    fulfill his commitments as a religious Jew.
    It is critical for every Jew to ensure that he
    is, at all times, in the right crowd, in the right
    community, in the right neighborhood and
    in the right surroundings. Peer pressure, as
    we all know, is a powerful force that exerts
    a very strong influence on a person and his
    behavior. It behooves us all to ensure that the
    peer pressure we are under is a positive peer
    pressure – one which pushes us to remain
    faithful to our tradition, to the study of Torah
    and observance of Misvot. We must place
    ourselves among peers who will encourage
    us to do the right thing, to live the way we
    are supposed to live. This is the peer pressure
    that we want – the pressure to live meaningful
    lives, lovingly committed to G-d and His
    Torah, and eager to fulfill all His Misvot.