In parshat Tzav, the Torah says that the korban chatat (the sin-offering) should be slaughtered in the same place as the korban olah (the elevation-offering) (6:18). At first glance, it would seem structurally inappropriate that these two korbanot should share the same area for slaughter. After all, as Rashi (“Siddur Rashi,” 23) points out, the korban olah is a voluntary offering, whereas the korban chatat is for transgression!
Rashi (ibid.) explains that this was done for the sake of preserving a person’s dignity. If the korban chatat had its own designated place for its slaughter, everyone would know that this animal that was being brought is a korban chatat, and the owner would become embarrassed (since people would realize he had transgressed). Hence, if the korban chatat is slaughtered in the same place as the korban olah, people would think he was bringing an olah, and they wouldn’t know that he had transgressed.
We could learn from Rashi the importance of covering up another person’s mistakes and shortcomings in the face of others, to avoid their potential embarrassment. Although, it seemingly would have been more appropriate that the korban chatat have its own unique place for slaughter, yet, the system in the Mikdash was—so to speak—just for the sake of preserving the honor of the chatat owner. Therefore, the Torah placed its slaughter together with that of the korban olah to cover him up—to make his identity inconspicuous—so that in front of onlookers who would realize his deed, he wouldn’t become embarrassed that he had faltered. Additionally, we’re dealing with a korban chatat which was brought for unintentional transgressions, and one would think that the embarrassment that would ensue in this regard is not so great, since it was unintentional. Yet, we see that even that level of embarrassment the Torah was so concerned with.
The Kli Yakar, however, asks: Even if the slaughterings of the korban chatat and olah are grouped together, still, the identity of the chatat owner would be revealed when people would see that his korban wasn’t fully burnt up, whereas a korban olah was fully burnt! And also, the olah was male and the chatat was female! With such clear distinctions between the two korbanot, the knowledge that he had transgressed would, indeed, be revealed to people after all! Hence, this solution of combining their area for slaughter does not really solve the problem of him becoming embarrassed.
I thought to suggest that, perhaps—it’s, therefore, evident from Rashi—that despite the fact that the identity of the chatat owner would eventually be revealed, but, at least, it won’t be revealed so soon! If he had his own unique spot for slaughter, his identity and, thus, his transgression might be known by others much sooner, and his embarrassment would, presumably, be suffered for a longer period of time. So, maybe, even Rashi agrees with the Kli Yakar’s point that this explanation doesn’t fully take care of the issue at hand, but, perhaps, what Rashi opines—and is thus highlighting—is that as much as we can, we should cover up for another person’s mistakes and hide their shortcomings, even though, they will inevitably be revealed to people sooner or later.
At the very least, we could spare him those few moments of embarrassment. This could apply even if it’s an instance of an unintentional mistake, where the potential embarrassment wouldn’t be as severe. It would emerge that this idea of covering up for another person—even if we won’t even end up being successful in the fullest measure—was so significant that the order in the Mikdash was seemingly compromised, just to spare the unintentional transgressor a few short moments of shame.
Even if we think a person will, for sure, suffer some disgrace—sooner or later—and we won’t be successful completely, we still, perhaps, see the great importance of covering up for the other person to spare his potential embarrassment in front of people—even if it can only be accomplished for just a minimal amount of time.
Binyamin is a graduate of Yeshivas Rabbeinu Yitzchok Elchanan, and of Wurzweiler School of Social Work.
