Remember the Mikdash. Don’t Replace the Sacrifice
Last year I suggested that commemorating the Mikdash, the Temple in Jerusalem, is a central, if unarticulated, theme of the Pesach Seder (here)
The central act of remembering the Mikdash is Korech. Right before we eat our festive meal, we wrap matzah and maror together and eat them with a declaration about Hillel and then we move on.
החזרת והמצה והפסח לילי יו”ט [הראשון חובה ושאר ימים] רשות ר”ש אומר לאנשים חובה לנשים רשות הלל הזקן היה [כרכן] שלשתן זה בזה ואוכלן . . .
The [bitter] lettuce and the matzah and the Passover offering are obligated on the first night of the [Passover] Festival, and on the remaining nights [partaking of them] is optional. Rabbi Shimon says, it is an obligation for men but optional for women. Hillel the Elder would wrap all three of them together and eat them. (see here)
But time once was that Korech was not the only way the Mikdash was commemorated in the Tannaitic era. R. Gamliel had an alternate way. He ate roasted lamb at his Seder.
אֵין צוֹלִין אֶת הַפֶּסַח לֹא עַל הַשַּׁפּוּד וְלֹא עַל הָאַסְכְּלָא. אָמַר רַבִּי צָדוֹק, מַעֲשֶׂה בְּרַבָּן גַּמְלִיאֵל שֶׁאָמַר לְטָבִי עַבְדּוֹ, צֵא וּצְלֵה לָנוּ אֶת הַפֶּסַח עַל הָאַסְכְּלָא.
One may not roast the Paschal lamb on the metal spit nor on a metal grill [askela]. However, Rabbi Tzadok said: There was an incident with Rabban Gamliel, who said to his slave Tavi: Go and roast the Paschal lamb for us on the grill. (see here)
אַף הוּא אָמַר שְׁלֹשָׁה דְבָרִים לְהָקֵל, מְכַבְּדִין בֵּין הַמִּטּוֹת, וּמַנִּיחִין אֶת הַמֻּגְמָר בְּיוֹם טוֹב, וְעוֹשִׂין גְּדִי מְקֻלָּס בְּלֵילֵי פְסָחִים. וַחֲכָמִים אוֹסְרִין
Rabban Gamliel also said three things as leniencies, in opposition to the view of most of the Sages: One may sweep the room of the couches on a Festival, i.e., the dining room, where they would recline on couches to eat, as there is no concern that by sweeping the room one might come to fill in the holes and level the ground. And one may place incense consisting of fragrant herbs on burning coals in order to perfume one’s house on a Festival. And one may prepare a whole kid goat, meaning a kid goat roasted whole, with its entrails over its head, on the night of Passover, as was the custom when they roasted the Paschal lamb in the Temple. However, the Rabbis prohibit all three practices: (See here)
Gamliel was not alone in this practice. His contemporary Theodosius of Rome had the same custom. The Tosefta Beitzah 2:15 records:
תודוס איש רומי הנהיג את בני רומי ליקח טלאים בלילי פסחים ועושין אותן מקולסין. אמרו לו: אף הוא קרוב להאכיל קדשים בחוץ, מפני שקורין אותן פסחין.
“Todos of Rome instituted the practice for the people of Rome to take lambs on Passover nights and prepare them roasted whole. They said to him: He comes close to feeding people sacred offerings outside [the Temple], because they call them Passover-offerings.” ( see here)
In the eyes of the Mishna the practice of eating roasted lamb was perfectly valid. The Mishna in Pesachim 4:4 says it clearly
מָקוֹם שֶׁנָּהֲגוּ לֶאֱכֹל צָלִי בְלֵילֵי פְסָחִים, אוֹכְלִין. מָקוֹם שֶׁנָּהֲגוּ שֶׁלֹּא לֶאֱכֹל, אֵין אוֹכְלִין . ..
In a place where people were accustomed to eat roasted meat on Passover evenings, outside of Jerusalem or after the Temple was destroyed, one may eat it. In a place where people were accustomed not to eat outside Jerusalem, one may not eat it. (see here)
Choosing one or the other was a matter of local custom.
Over time, R. Gamliel’s practice came to be rejected. That rejection is best demonstrated by R. Gamliel himself. While he had the practice of eating a roasted lamb on Pesach night, he did not require others to do likewise. Rather he enacted the Halacha that we must merely recall the Korban Pesach during the Seder.
Why? When the Rabbis were busy instituting commemorative practices to keep the memory of the Temple alive, why did they choose korech over the far more obvious candidate — roasted meat?
After the Churban, R. Yochanan ben Zakkai instituted a number of practices “zecher l’Mikdash,” in commemoration of the Temple. In one instance, he mandated that a practice reserved only for the Mikdash be adopted by everyone after the Churban.
בָּרִאשׁוֹנָה הָיָה לוּלָב נִטָּל בַּמִּקְדָּשׁ שִׁבְעָה, וּבַמְּדִינָה יוֹם אֶחָד. מִשֶּׁחָרַב בֵּית הַמִּקְדָּשׁ, הִתְקִין רַבָּן יוֹחָנָן בֶּן זַכַּאי שֶׁיְּהֵא לוּלָב נִטָּל בַּמְּדִינָה שִׁבְעָה, זֵכֶר לַמִּקְדָשׁ.
Originally, during the Temple era, the lulav was taken in the Temple for seven days, and in the rest of the country outside the Temple it was taken for one day. Once the Temple was destroyed, Rabban Yoḥanan ben Zakkai instituted an ordinance that the lulav should be taken even in the rest of the country for seven days, in commemoration of the Temple.(see here)
Following that example, it would make far more sense to imitate what happened in the Mikdash on Pesach, just like we do on Sukkot. We should be eating roasted lamb. Why don’t we?
The standard answer is marit ayin: it would look like people were eating sacrifices that were slaughtered outside of the Temple, which is a serious biblical prohibition. The Rambam codifies this in Hilkhot Chametz U’Matzah 8:11, and the Shulchan Arukh follows suit at Orach Chaim 476. The concern — כאוכל קדשים בחוץ — is that whole roasted lamb at the Seder looks functionally identical to a private sacrifice. The Tosefta’s wry observation about Theodosius of Rome became law.
Since R. Gamliel’s custom came to be disfavored, the only remaining option to commemorate the Mikdash at the Seder table was Hillel’s Korech. But by the time of the Amoraim, Halachic norms had developed which rendered the practice of Korech problematic. The Talmud (Bavli Pesachim 115a) discusses Hillel’s halacha and how to comply with it when we no longer have a Korban Pesach. The issue is that without the sacrifice, eating marror is no longer a biblical commandment, but rather a rabbinic requirement.
There is a concept in Halacha of מצוות מבטלות זו את זו, multiple mitzvot performed simultaneously cancel each other out. The Talmud states that the principle applies when a biblical commandment is performed commensurate with a rabbinic requirement. Thus without a sacrifice, eating matzah and marror together creates a Halachik nullity. To resolve the problem, we first eat matzah with a bracha, fulfilling the biblical command, we then eat marror with a bracha, fulfilling the rabbinic requirement. Then we eat the sandwich, sans bracha, to remember the Mikdash. But that process creates another Halachik problem. As the child asks in the Four Questions, reflecting yet another Mishnaic mandate, on Seder night, we dip twice, the karpas in salt water and the marror in charoset. The addition of the “Hillel sandwich” seemingly necessitates an additional dipping of marror in charoset. The commentators to the Talmud have spilled much ink trying to resolve that problem.
But more fundamentally, the prohibition of kodshim b’chutz, offering or eating sacred items outside the Temple, presupposes that there is an inside the Temple. When the Temple existed, eating your Passover lamb, outside of Jerusalem, is a transgression. But when there is no Temple at all, the category ceases to be operative. There is no “outside” if there is no “inside.” Why then was R. Gamliel’s custom rejected by his peers, and why was it not reinstituted when Halachik norms developed such that Korech came to present a considerable Halachik challenge?
I don’t think we can definitively answer this question. Chazal, the sages, did not reveal what was going in their collective mindset. Any attempted answer is conjecture. But we can look at how those selfsame sages related to korbanot after the Churban and perhaps that understanding will shed some light on the question.
I wonder if the answer lies not in the technicalities of marit ayin, but in a much more fundamental concept that animated the entire project of Rabbinic Judaism; with what shall we replace the abolished korbanot and how shall we implement that replacement?
To understand the complexity and severity of the problem, we need to appreciate how catastrophic the loss of the korbanot was considered to be- not just for Israel, but for the world. The Bavli in Sukkah 55b makes a staggering claim:
אָמַר רַבִּי (אֶלְעָזָר): הָנֵי שִׁבְעִים פָּרִים כְּנֶגֶד מִי — כְּנֶגֶד שִׁבְעִים אוּמּוֹת. פַּר יְחִידִי לָמָּה — כְּנֶגֶד אוּמָּה יְחִידָה. מָשָׁל לְמֶלֶךְ בָּשָׂר וָדָם שֶׁאָמַר לַעֲבָדָיו: עֲשׂוּ לִי סְעוּדָה גְּדוֹלָה. לְיוֹם אַחֲרוֹן אָמַר לְאוֹהֲבוֹ: עֲשֵׂה לִי סְעוּדָה קְטַנָּה כְּדֵי שֶׁאֵהָנֶה מִמְּךָ. אָמַר רַבִּי יוֹחָנָן: אוֹי לָהֶם לַגּוֹיִים, שֶׁאִבְּדוּ — וְאֵין יוֹדְעִין מַה שֶּׁאִבְּדוּ. בִּזְמַן שֶׁבֵּית הַמִּקְדָּשׁ קַיָּים, מִזְבֵּחַ מְכַפֵּר עֲלֵיהֶן. וְעַכְשָׁיו, מִי מְכַפֵּר עֲלֵיהֶן?!
Rabbi Elazar said: These seventy bulls that are sacrificed as additional offerings over the course of the seven days of Sukkot, to what do they correspond? They correspond to the seventy nations of the world, and are brought to atone for their sins and to hasten world peace. Why is a single bull sacrificed on the Eighth Day of Assembly? It corresponds to the singular nation, Israel. The Gemara cites a parable about a king of flesh and blood who said to his servants: Prepare me a great feast that will last for several days. When the feast concluded, on the last day, he said to his beloved servant: Prepare me a small feast so that I can derive pleasure from you alone. Rabbi Yoḥanan said: Woe unto the nations of the world that lost something and do not know what they lost. When the Temple is standing, the seventy bulls sacrificed on the altar during the festival of Sukkot atones for them. And now that the Temple is destroyed, who atones for them?(see here)
The altar wasn’t just Israel’s institution. It was the mechanism by which the entire world received atonement. Its destruction was a universal tragedy, not just a national one. The Talmud in Bavli Rosh Hashana 31a also understood that the Shekhinah itself had effectively gone into exile with the cessation of the Temple service: “עשרה מסעות נסעה שכינה” — “the Divine Presence made ten journeys” — departing, stage by stage, as the Temple fell (see here). Something of ultimate importance had been lost to the world.
The Korban Pesach was maybe the sharpest edge of this loss. Unlike most sacrifices, which were communal or were offered in response to a specific event in a person’s life, the Passover offering was a perennial personal obligation. Every individual Israelite was required to participate every year, and the penalty for willful neglect was karet, among the most severe sanctions in the biblical system. The entire Jewish nation now found itself in a condition of perpetual and unavoidable karet-level violation. The Sages had to navigate that reality.
They did so through a remarkable and consistent theological strategy. Rabban Yochanan ben Zakkai, in the famous passage in Avot D’Rabbi Natan chapter 4, consoles Rabbi Yehoshua, who is weeping over the destruction:
“בני, אל ירע לך — יש לנו כפרה אחת שהיא כמותה, ואיזו? גמילות חסדים. שנאמר: ‘כי חסד חפצתי ולא זבח'”
“My son, do not grieve — we have another form of atonement equivalent to it. And what is it? Acts of loving-kindness. As it says: ‘For I desire loving-kindness and not sacrifice.'” (see here)
This is a breathtaking move. Yochanan ben Zakkai is not saying that acts of kindness is a consolation prize. He is saying it was the point of the sacrifices all along — that the prophet Hosea had already told us this, and the Temple’s destruction has clarified what we perhaps should have always known. The substitute does not replicate the original. It reveals what the original was always about.
The Talmud developed a parallel formulation. Study of the sacrificial laws equals the sacrifice itself. The Bavli in Menachot 110a states:
“כל העוסק בתורת חטאת — כאילו הקריב חטאת. כל העוסק בתורת אשם — כאילו הקריב אשם.”
“Whoever engages in [the laws of] the sin-offering — it is as if he offered a sin-offering. Whoever engages in [the laws of] the guilt-offering — it is as if he offered a guilt-offering.” (see here)
The discussion there goes on to make identical statements about each and every one of the korbanot.
In light of the strategy to assuage us of the devastating loss of the Korbanot via remembering them by studying their laws, it is no surprise that the foundational text for the Pesach commemoration of the Korban Pesach then is Mishnah Pesachim 10:5, which contains R. Gamliel of Yavneh’s ruling issued after the Churban that anyone who did not mention three things on Passover did not fulfill his obligation:
רַבָּן גַּמְלִיאֵל הָיָה אוֹמֵר: כָּל שֶׁלֹּא אָמַר שְׁלֹשָׁה דְּבָרִים אֵלּוּ בְּפֶסַח, לֹא יָצָא יְדֵי חוֹבָתוֹ, וְאֵלּוּ הֵן: פֶּסַח, מַצָּה, וּמָרוֹר.
“Rabban Gamliel would say: Anyone who did not say these three things on Passover did not fulfill his obligation, and these are: Pesach, matzah, and maror.” (see here)
Rabban Gamliel is not letting anyone forget the lamb. He himself continued to eat a roasted lamb on Pesach night because he couldn’t shake off the nostalgia he had for the Seders of his youth, when he probably ascended to the Mikdash saw his family’s Korban slaughtered and its blood sprinkled on the altar and later that evening ate from it at a festive family meal. But his personal memory could not be the basis for a nation’s ritual. And so R. Gamliel participated in the project of replacing the Korbanot with study. The Tosefta records that along with his memory laden meal, R. Gamliel and the sages stayed up the whole night studying the laws of the Korban Pesach:
אין מפטירין אחר הפסח [אפיקומן] כגון [אגוזים] תמרים [וקליות] חייב אדם [לעסוק בהלכות הפסח] כל הלילה אפילו בינו לבין בנו אפילו בינו לבין עצמו אפילו בינו לבין תלמידו מעשה ברבן גמליאל וזקנים שהיו מסובין בבית ביתוס בן זונין בלוד והיו [עסוקין בהלכות הפסח] כל הלילה עד קרות הגבר הגביהו מלפניהם ונועדו והלכו [להן] לבית המדרש איזו היא ברכת הפסח ברוך אשר קדשנו במצותיו וצונו לאכול הפסח איזו ברכת הזבח ברוך אשר קדשנו במצותיו וצונו לאכול הזבח.
We may not eat an afikoman [a dessert or other foods eaten after the meal] after [we are finished eating] the Pesach sacrifice; for example nuts, dates and roasted wheat. A man is obligated to be involved with the laws of Pesach the whole night, even if it [is only a discussion] between him and his son, even if it is between him and himself, even if it is between him and his student. It happened that Rabban Gamliel and the Elders were [once] reclining in the house of Beitos ben Zunin in Lud, and they were involved with the laws of Pesach the whole night until the call of the rooster. [Their students] raised the covering of the window from in front of them, and they [then] convened and went to the house of study. What is the blessing on the Pesach sacrifice? Blessed […] who has sanctified us with His commandments and has commanded us on the eating of the Pesach sacrifice. What is the blessing on the [other] offerings? Blessed […] who has sanctified us with His commandments and has commanded us on the eating of the offering. (see here)
And we can now also understand why Theodosius of Rome’s practice was seen to be so problematic, that it merits excommunication
מֵיתִיבִי אָמַר רַבִּי יוֹסֵי: תּוֹדוֹס אִישׁ רוֹמִי הִנְהִיג אֶת בְּנֵי רוֹמִי לֶאֱכוֹל גְּדָיִים מְקוּלָּסִין בְּלֵילֵי פְּסָחִים. שָׁלְחוּ לוֹ: אִלְמָלֵא תּוֹדוֹס אַתָּה גָּזַרְנוּ עָלֶיךָ נִדּוּי, שֶׁאַתָּה מַאֲכִיל אֶת יִשְׂרָאֵל קָדָשִׁים בַּחוּץ.
Rabbi Yosei said: Theodosiusius [Todos] of Rome, leader of the Jewish community there, instituted the custom for the Roman Jews to eat kids roasted [mekulas] whole with their entrails over their heads on the evenings of Passover, as was the custom in the Temple. The Sages sent a message to him: If you were not Theodosiusius, an important person, we would have decreed ostracism upon you, as it appears as if you are feeding Israel consecrated food, which may be eaten only in and around the Temple itself, outside the permitted area. (see here)
When he and his community called their lamb dinner “Pesachim” they cut against the strategy of memorializing the Korbanot by learning their laws and not replicating them. Theodosius rendered himself a פורש מדרכי הציבור, one who violates communal norms, with that such a departure entails.
The Sages’ objection is not aesthetic; it is about function. The Seder is supposed to commorate the Mikdash not try to replace it.
Against that background, the korech begins to look less like a compromised Seder ritual and more like a precisely calibrated Halachic and theological instrument. Hillel’s original korech wrapped three things: matzah, maror, and the Passover lamb, reflecting his simple reading of the verse in the Torah describing how the Korban Pesach is to be eaten. The post-Churban formulation strips out the one element that could defy the entire post Churban rabbinic project and retains the rest. This is recorded in Bavli Pesachim 115a:
דְּתַנְיָא: אָמְרוּ עָלָיו עַל הִלֵּל שֶׁהָיָה כּוֹרְכָן בְּבַת אַחַת וְאוֹכְלָן, שֶׁנֶּאֱמַר: “עַל מַצּוֹת וּמְרֹרִים יֹאכְלֻהוּ.”
“For it was taught: They said about Hillel that he would wrap them together and eat them, as it is stated: ‘They shall eat it on matzot and maror.'” (see here)
After the Churban, the Amoraim added a further Halachik argument against wrapping matzah and maror together: the principle of multiple mitzva nullification, since matzah is now a Torah obligation while maror is only rabbinic, and the lesser obligation nullifies the greater when combined. Ravina, transmitting a tradition from the Babylonian academies, rules:
לָא נִיכְרוֹךְ אִינִישׁ מַצָּה וּמָרוֹר בַּהֲדֵי הֲדָדֵי וְנֵיכוֹל, מִשּׁוּם דִּסְבִירָא לַן מַצָּה בִּזְמַן הַזֶּה דְּאוֹרַיְיתָא, וּמָרוֹר דְּרַבָּנַן.
“A person should not wrap matzah and bitter herbs together and eat them, because we maintain that today matzah is a Torah obligation and maror is rabbinic.” (see here)
And yet the korech is retained. The Talmud’s conclusion is not “therefore abolish the korech” but rather: eat matzah separately, eat maror separately, and then:
וְהַדַּר אָכֵיל מַצָּה וַחֲסָא בַּהֲדֵי הֲדָדֵי בְּלֹא בְּרָכָה, זֵכֶר לְמִקְדָּשׁ כְּהִלֵּל.
“…and then eats matzah and lettuce together without a blessing, as a memorial of the Temple in the manner of Hillel.” (ibid)
The formula zecher leMikdash kehillel — “a memorial of the Temple in the manner of Hillel” — deserves attention. It does not say zecher l’korban Pesach, a memorial of the Passover sacrifice. It says a memorial of the Temple, in the manner of Hillel: in the manner of a specific person, a specific technique, a specific habit of eating. The anchor is Hillel’s behavior, not the sacrifice itself. The lamb is gone from the formula. That absence is not an oversight.
The korech done this way belongs to the same family of Halachik moves as Yochanan ben Zakkai’s gemilut chasadim and the Talmud’s “studying the laws of sacrifice equals the sacrifice itself.” In every case, the substitute commemorates what was without replicating it. In every case, a whole roasted animal is conspicuously absent.
The Seder is, at its core, an act of national memory. We are commanded not merely to know that our ancestors were slaves in Egypt, but to experience it ourselves — בְּכָל דּוֹר וָדוֹר חַיָּב אָדָם לִרְאוֹת אֶת עַצְמוֹ כְּאִלּוּ הוּא יָצָא מִמִּצְרַיִם. But while we might see ourselves as personally redeemed, the Seder’s choreography directs us not to try to go back in time and recreate what is no longer here. We are to remember what was, feel its absence, and long for its restoration.
But memory of the Temple and reconstitution of the Temple are two very different things. Yochanan ben Zakkai understood this, which is why his substitute for sacrifice was gemilut chasadim and not a roasted lamb. The Talmud understood this, which is why studying the laws of sacrifice was declared equivalent to the sacrifice. And the authors of the post-Churban korech understood this, which is why they kept Hillel’s form and jettisoned his substance.
The korech without the lamb says: remember Hillel, remember what he did, remember that there was a time when matzah and maror were wrapped around a sacrifice that atoned for you and for the seventy nations of the world. Long for that time. Say l’shana haba’a biYerushalayim and mean it. But do not bring the lamb back. Not because the technical prohibition applies when there is no Temple. Because the moment you bring the lamb back, you have stopped commemorating the Temple and started replacing it with an artifice.
ונשלמה פרים שפתינו
א כשר’ן פסח
