The words acharei mot means “after the death”. Following the deaths of Nadav and Avihu, Aaron was told to enter the Holy of Holies once a year on Yom Kippur, The Day of Atonement. On this day, atonement would be made for the sins of the community, himself, and his family.

On Yom Kippur, the Kohen Gadol was dressed all in white and made all of the sacrifices himself. These consisted of personal sin and burnt offerings, which he paid for by himself. He also brought communal offerings. He gathered a handful of incense, entered the Kodesh Kodashim (Holy of Holies) and then cast the incense upon the coal taken from the altar. From this act, the cover of the Ark became enveloped in a cloud of smoke.

Two male goats were then provided by the people for the offering. The Kohen Gadol cast lots to determine which of the two was to be sacrificed. He laid his hand on top of the other goat and it was called “Azazel”. He confessed all of the sins of the community and then had the goat thrown off of a cliff to symbolize the casting away of the sins. The commandment was given to the Jewish people to permanently observe this day as a solemn Sabbath (on the tenth day of Tishri) and which every member of the community was to afflict his soul through fasting and prayer.

The people were again warned that sacrifices could be offered only on the altar in the Sanctuary. Offering a sacrifice in a place of one’s own choosing was considered an act of idolatry. Also, if anyone desired to slaughter an animal for eating during the wilderness period, it was to be brought as a peace offering.

The laws forbidding the eating of meat from an animal that had died without having been ritually slaughtered and forbidding the intake of any blood were also presented to the people. The people were also reminded about the high level of moral conduct that was expected of them if they were to remain a people of G-d. Adultery and illicit marriages were outlawed. If the Children of Israel did not live up to the expected level of conduct, they too would be destroyed like other Nations had.

This parsha is familiar as the Torah reading on the morning of Yom Kippur. The prohibition of Aaron entering the Sanctuary all the time, is explained by Rashi as analogous to a patient taking medicine. The Mishkan focused the people’s attention on

G-d and served to heal their visible ills. It was physical or tangible reminder of G-d’s presence among them. A doctor may prescribe a course of antibiotics as a treatment for a particular illness. However, this medication works only when taken at the correct intervals. If a dosage is missed, taking a double dosage at the next time will not make up for the loss. Also, taking an overdose could lead to a person’s death. In the same way, Aaron was permitted to receive spiritual medicine only at certain prescribed times and under direct specifications. Any mistake on his part could result in his physical death.

The concept of teshuvah, which means “to return”, and is interpreted here to mean repentance, is a powerful aspect of Judaism. Teshuvah is much more than simply saying “I’m sorry”. Teshuvah, the sages write, requires a person to feel, in both their heart and their head, that they have truly done something wrong against another person or G-d. Yom Kippur, we are taught atones a person for sins committed against G-d. But for sins committed against another person, one must seek forgiveness directly from them. Is it no wonder that prayer is referred to as “a service of the heart”.

The Maggid of Dubno used to tell the following story:

There once was a man who lived in a small town. The fire fighting equipment was very outdated. Often when a fire erupted, disaster struck with it. One day, the man journeyed to a distant city. As he was approaching, he smelled smoke in the air. All of a sudden, he heard the clanging of bells and the thumping of drums. Frantically, he asked one of the people what all the noise was about. “That means that there is a fire somewhere in the city”, explained one of the residents. “Don’t worry, the fire will soon be out”, they explained to the mystified guest. Sure enough, when the man came to the site of the fire, it was out. “Fantastic”, he thought. “Won’t the people of my town be impressed when I tell them about this”!

When he arrived back home, he told his friends about the wonderful firefighting techniques in the city. “Look, all you have to do is clang some bells and bang some drums, and the fire will be put out! I saw it myself.” The man was appointed Fire Chief and soon enough, a fire broke out somewhere in the town. The man frantically clanged the bells and thumped the drums, but the fire raged on out of control. Quickly, the townspeople ran to get their antiquated equipment and struggled to put out the fire.

The man now angrily went back to the city and found the person he had spoken with a few days earlier. Explained what he had done and demanded an explanation. After relating his tale, the resident just laughed at him. “Why you fool! Don’t you know that those bells and drums were meant to alert the firemen to come put out the fire. Did you really think that just by clanging bells and thumping drums the fire would go out all by itself?”

The lesson for us on Yom Kippur, said the Maggid, is that we cannot expect that all of our wailing, chest thumping, and fasting on Yom Kippur will bring atonement for our sins unless we are truly sincere and take positive action to correct them.

After relating the procedure for the Day of Atonement, the Torah states (18:4-5): Mine ordinances shall you do, Mine statutes shall you keep, to walk therein; I am the Lord your G-d. And you shall therefore keep my statutes and Mine ordinances, which if a man do, he shall live by them; I am the Lord.”

These two verses seem quite repetitive and bear closer examination. Ordinances are written as mishpotim or civil laws. Rashi writes that these are laws that if the Torah did not command them, decent people would have thought about them anyway (such as do not steal, kill, etc.). Statutes are chukim, laws given by G-d, which do not have any apparent rational logic behind them. They do not stir the emotions but we must contemplate them and not try to rationalize them.

We see again a battle between using the “heart or the head”. The Torah states: “Mine ordinances shall you do.” This is a proactive command. We should not stop to think about them. We should just simply so them. The chukim are to be “kept”. The word used in the Torah is tishmahru. A later word used for “keeping” is u’sh’martem. The word shomer is the root concept, which means “to guard”.

Notice that in the second verse, the commands are repeated, this time emphasizing that both the mishpotim and the chukim are to be guarded. To be shomer shabbos, means to “guard shabbos”. In the Talmud, a shomer has certain civil liabilities based on how they are specifically employed. In the Torah, we are commanded not just to observe the laws, but to guard them as well. Guard them from outside influences that might cause us to abandon them.

When the Children of Israel were being led through the desert, the sages wrote that G-d kept them away from the inhabited parts so that they would not fall under their influences. The Torah, in this parsha, commands us not follow the ways of the Egyptians or the Canaanites. Therefore, we must be vigilant in guarding what has been given to us. This requires us to study as well as practice. What is the right balance between the heart and the head? For that matter, what is the balance between strictness and leniency?

Moses and Aaron are used as metaphors for these two extremes. Two others from the Talmud are the sages Shammai and Hillel. Shammai and his followers are usually associated with strictness and rigidity while Hillel and his followers are usually more sensitive to the needs and burdens of the common person. The Talmud relates two interesting stories about Hillel and Shammai. The first one relates how a non-Jew went to Shammai offering to convert if the great sage could teach him the entire Torah while standing on one leg. Shammai, sensing a prank, dismissed him. When the man approached Hillel with the same offer Hillel responded (on one leg), “What is hateful to yourself, do not do unto your neighbor. All the rest is commentary. Now, go and learn!”

The second story is related how two men made a bet that one of them could make Hillel lose his temper. The great sage was noted for his patience and calm demeanor. One the men quickly went up to Hillel and kept bothering him and asking him silly and annoying questions. Finally, the man gave up and said that he was mad at Hillel since he just lost a lot of money by not making the sage lose his temper. The great sage remarked casually, “Better that you should lose some money, than Hillel should lose his temper!”

To be an Am Kodesh or a Holy People, we must remember that there are moral codes governing us in both private and public. The laws of illicit sexual relations, enumerated at the end of the parsha, testify that in Judaism, what goes on behind closed doors, is important. We must live by stricter standards since we are being watched all the time by the One Who sees All and Knows all.