You Will Eat Raw Meat and You Will Enjoy It
Rethinking the meaning of simcha
I’ve never been quite sure I understand what the Torah means with the word “simcha”. But after noticing a rather fine technical detail about the inner workings of the Mikdash, I’m more confused than ever.
It all begins with a question posed by the Yerushalmi (Chagiga 1:4):
How could the Mishna (Succah 42b) teach that “Hallel and Simcha are (required for all) eight (days of Succos)” - won’t there be years when the first day of Succos falls on Shabbos?
Why would that be a problem? Well, a chagiga offering may not be slaughtered and offered on Shabbos. If Shabbos comes out on any other day of the chag, it will still be possible to eat the meat of a chagiga that was slaughtered the day before (which was, after all, part of the chag). But since one cannot satisfy the mitzva of simcha with the meat of a chagiga that was slaughtered before the chag, there would seem to be no way to do the mitzva on its first day.
The Yerushalmi concludes that as long as the mitzva could be performed by at least some Jews, the Mishna’s phrasing (ההלל והשמחה שמונה and not ההלל והשמחה שבעה ושמונה) is appropriate. So who will those Jews be? That’ll be the kohanim chosen to eat the priestly portion of the chatas (sin offering) of yom tov (Bamidbar 29:16).
Now the obvious problem here is that it’s not permitted to cook the meat of any offering on Shabbos - even in the Temple. Which, as observed by the commentary of the Korban HaEida, means that the kohanim are not only expected to eat raw meat, but that raw meat is supposed to be the only ideal fulfillment of the mitzva of simchas (enjoying) yom tov (Devarim 16:11)!
On an entirely unrelated note, I thought I’d share some words spoken to me last night. I happened to be standing near the back door of our shul just as we were starting mincha before Shabbos. Someone knocked, and when I opened the door there was a non-Jew asking if he could speak for a moment.
He spent the next couple of minutes telling me how upset he was with the way the Jewish people were being treated and by how many vicious enemies we had. He said he woke up that morning and decided that he had to do something. So here he was, at the door of a neighborhood shul earnestly insisting that not all non-Jews were our enemies and that he was one of many who considered themselves allies of the Jews.
I thanked him sincerely and told him I’d share his words. And I do indeed believe those words are worth sharing. We really aren’t alone.