What if the Torah’s strictest, most uncomfortable laws about perfection weren’t actually meant to keep us out, but to give us permission to be broken?
What does holiness look like… when life refuses to cooperate?
In this episode of Madlik, we dive into one of the Torah’s most uncomfortable passages—Parshat Emor—where the priestly caste is commanded to live a life untouched by death, imperfect relationships, and even physical blemish.
No funerals. No complicated marriages. No broken bodies.
It’s a vision of holiness that feels… impossible.
But what if we’ve been reading it wrong?
Instead of seeing these laws as disconnected or discriminatory, we step back and read them as a single, unified system—a radical attempt to define holiness as perfection, separation, and control.
And then we flip it.
Because the Torah has a word for the priest who doesn’t fit this model: ḥalal—usually translated as profaned, disqualified, fallen.
But what if ḥalal doesn’t mean excluded… but permitted?
Drawing on Torah, Rashi, Talmud, and modern scholarship, we explore:
Why priests must distance themselves from death—even family
What “perfect” marriage really means in the priestly imagination
Why physical imperfection disqualifies temple service—but not spiritual worth
And how Judaism ultimately embraces a different model of holiness—one that lives not in perfection, but in the cracks
From ancient Temple rituals to modern ideas of inclusion, this episode asks:
Is holiness about being flawless…
or about making space for the real, messy, human experience?
Key Takeaways
- Holiness as Separation, Not Just Morality
The priestly laws aren’t random restrictions—they form a unified system built on distance from life’s messiness: death, complicated relationships, and physical imperfection.
Holiness here isn’t about being good—it’s about being set apart.
2. A Vision of Perfection… or a Problematic Ideal
The Kohen represents an almost utopian human—untouched by loss, imperfection, or disruption.
But that raises a tension: is this an aspirational model meant to uplift, or the creation of a spiritual hierarchy that excludes real human experience?
3. From “Disqualified” to “Permitted”
The word ḥalal, usually translated as profane or disqualified, may actually point in a different direction.
What if it means not rejected—but released?
Not unholy—but free to live fully human lives, where imperfection isn’t a flaw… but the norm.
Timestamps
[00:00] Holiness Without Cracks
[01:40] Show Intro and Big Question
[02:53] Priestly Mourning Limits
[04:35] Marriage Rules and Separation
[06:53] Rashi and Modern Practice
[10:23] Talmud and Funeral Optics
[13:52] Why These Marriage Bans
[21:20] Physical Blemishes and Theater
[27:00] Halal as Permission
[29:57] Wrap Up and Shabbat Shalom
Links & Learnings
Sign up for free and get more from our weekly newsletter https://madlik.com/
Sefaria Source Sheet: https://voices.sefaria.org/sheets/722306
Transcript here: https://madlik.substack.com/
Geoffrey Stern [00:00:05]:
What does holiness look like when life refuses to cooperate? This week’s Parasha Emor gives us a vision so pristine it almost feels impossible. The priest, the kohen, is commanded to avoid death, even the death of those he loves most. He must marry only under ideal circumstances, and he must present himself physically whole, without blemish or without deviation. No death, no complicated love, no broken body. It’s a world without cracks. But that’s not the world we live in. Because life is messy, families fracture. Love doesn’t always follow a script. Bodies age, break, and bear the marks of experience. And yet, right here in the Torah’s most exacting portrait of holiness, we’re asked to imagine something else. A human being who stands before God, untouched by all of that. Why? Is this an aspirational vision, an almost utopian model of wholeness meant to lift us higher? A reminder of what Lechem Elohav, the very bread of God, demands? Or is it something more troubling? The creation of a spiritual elite, a priestly caste defined not just by service, but by separation. And what happens when that perfection cracks? Because the Torah has a word for the priest who doesn’t or can’t fit the mold. Halal. Usually translated as profaned, disqualified, fallen. Welcome to Madlik.
My name is Geoffrey Stern, and at Madlik, we light a spark or shed some light on a Jewish text or tradition. Along with Rabbi Adam Mintz, we host Madlik Disruptive Torah on your favorite podcast platform and now on YouTube and substack. We also publish a source sheet on Sefaria, and a link is included in the show Notes. This week, we read Emor and we ask, what if disqualification’s not the only way to read it? What if hidden inside this seemingly harsh system is a radically different idea, not of exclusion, but of permission? Tonight, we’re going to read these three prohibitions not as isolated rules, but as a single unified vision of holiness, and then ask a question that might turn the whole thing on its head. What if holiness isn’t about being perfect, but about what we allow? Well, Rabbi, I am back from biking in Portugal and reading the Abarbanel. I’m back to my favorite Rashi and the Midrash. How are you doing?
Adam Mintz [00:02:47]:
I’m doing well. Welcome back. And this is a great topic. Let’s go tackle Parshat Emor.
Geoffrey Stern [00:02:53]:
So we are in Leviticus 21:1, and God said to Moses, speak to the priests, the sons of Aaron, and say to them, none shall defile himself for any dead person among his kin. So in the Hebrew, among his kin means Lo Yitame B’Amav. And if you read it before you get to all the commentaries, Rabbi, it kind of sounds like he is distancing himself from his people. Don’t. Don’t defile yourself for your brothers and your sisters, except for the relatives that are closest to him, his mother, his father, his son, his daughter and his brother. So basically it is restricting the circle of relatives that a standard Cohen can mourn for. Can defile himself. I said mourn for. But that’s the next verse, because right now it means you really can’t touch a dead person, which will make you tameh. But it goes further. They shall not shave smooth, smooth any parts of their heads, or cut the side growth of their beards, or make gashes in their flesh. So those are typical standard, I would say, Goyisha, ways of mourning for your dead, and you can’t do it. They shall be holy to their God and not profane the name of their God. For they offer the eternals, offerings by fire, the food of their Lord of God, and so must be holy. So this is the first part, because there are kind of three sections here, and I’m going to argue that they are actually connected. The first has to do with who you can mourn for. The next has who you can marry. In verse seven, it says they shall not marry a woman defiled by prostitution, nor shall they marry one divorced from a husband. For they are holy to their God, and you must treat them as holy, since they offer the food of your God. Again, Lechem Eloheim. They shall be holy to you. For I, God, who sanctify you, am holy. What we’re doing is we are segueing from the laws of mourning, where you are to distance yourself from who you can mourn for, to the laws of marriage where you have to distance yourself from who you can marry. And it goes on to say that the priest who is exalted above his fellows. Now we’re talking not just about any Cohen, but the Cohen Gadol on whose head the anointing oil has been poured, and who has been ordained to wear the vestments shall not bear his hair or rend his vestments. So again, he cannot mourn for those same circle of people. He shall not go in where there is any dead body. He shall not defile himself, even for his father or mother. So the circle gets even smaller. He shall not go outside the sanctuary and profane the sanctuary of his God. For upon him is the distinction of the anointing oil of mine. The Eternals. So he can’t go out to even participate in the funeral at all. He has to go about his business. He has to act as though nothing disruptive has happened. Rabbi, it struck you, too, that these are, if you read them together, they’re an issue of distancing oneself, of limiting the circle of people that you can mourn for and who you can marry. This is the first year I kind of put those two together.
Adam Mintz [00:06:31]:
Yeah, there’s no question. That’s right. You know, in last week’s Torah reading, Kedoshim, the word kadosh is understood by Rashi as being separate. Holiness and separateness in the Torah seem to be connected. So you’re 100% right for putting them together. And I think that’s a theme in this second half of the book of Leviticus.
Geoffrey Stern [00:06:52]:
Yeah. So now we’re going to get a little bit to this word, halalim. Those priests, those kohanim, who have lost their priestly status for reasons connected with their birth or marriage, they either married the wrong person or they are the child of someone who. A Cohen who married the wrong person. You may not defile themselves by the dead. Scripture therefore says unto the priests, only those sons of Aaron are included who have not lost their priestly character. So even this, this is, you could say it’s a privilege, but it certainly goes with the ability of being an active Kohen, a Halal who is no longer part of that caste. It does not apply to him. Kedoshim Tiihiyu. They shall be holy, Rashi says, even against their will, the court shall force them to remain holy in respect to this. So these are strict rules that have to do with the caste you were born into, and you have to distance yourself from who you mourn for. And this, of course, we come across all the time with kohanim who. who lose a relative. And there are separate parts of the cemetery where are segregated for kohanim so that they don’t have to go in. So far, these rules, even though we don’t have a temple today, still apply to Kohanim. Rashi goes on, thou shalt sanctify him even against his will. And this, it says, if he is not willing to divorce the woman whom he had illegally married, you flog him, you chastise him until he divorces her. I assume from that it means you can reinstate yourself, but he goes on, holy unto thee. Treat him with sanctity, that he should be the first in all holy matters. Meaning to say, reading of the law, he gets the first aliyah, and that he should have the first right to recite the benedictions at a meal. So why he does what Abarbanel did last week, he brings this into the present. When we bench, if a Cohen is present, he is the one. He leads the benching. And if we’re in an Orthodox synagogue, when you have the aliyah, the first aliyah is called the Kohen aliyah. So it’s a privilege, it’s an obligation that lasts until today. The hair of his head shall not be in disarray. He shall not let his hair grow wild on account of ritual mourning for the death of a near relative and what is called letting the hair grow wild, leaving it uncut for more than 30 days. So we learn a little bit about the laws of mourning, but basically Rashi is just filling in the blanks. Here’s one that’s interesting. When it says he shall not go out from the sanctuary, this means he must not follow the funeral bier, attend the funeral of his father or his mother. A rabbi is further derived from this. In Sanhedrin, the halacha that the high priest made the sacrificial rites. When an onan, when he is literally in mourning, he, according to some, can perform the rites, and according to others, he must perform the rites. The following is how this is implied. Even if his father or his mother died, he is not required to leave the sanctuary, as may be assumed, but may perform the service. Interesting what the Talmud says. So the Talmud says in Sanhedrin 18A, if a relative of the high priest dies, he does not follow the bier. This is what the funeral procession that Rashi quoted, carrying the corpse. Since it is prohibited for the high priest to become ritually impure, even for immediate relatives, rather, once the members of the funeral procession are concealed from sight by turning onto another street, he can reveal himself on the street they departed. And when they are revealed, then he is concealed. And in this way he goes out with them until the entrance of the gate of the city from where they take out the corpse. Since the dead were not buried in Jerusalem, this is according to the great Rabbi Meir. So, Rabbi, my reading from this Talmud in Sanhedrin was, this is certainly a little bit about how it looks. It’s a little bit about the perception. You could easily say he shouldn’t go out because he might touch the corpse and become tame. Rabbi Meir is adding to that. He says, don’t get caught seen there. When they pass on Avenue A, you can be on the side street and look at them. When they pass you by, it’s clearly about appearances as much as anything else.
Adam Mintz [00:11:45]:
Can you imagine the Pope going to the local supermarket in Rome? I mean, that would be terrible for the image of the Pope. That is the same thing here. It’s the optics are bad, but I
Geoffrey Stern [00:11:58]:
think it’s not simply the optics of going to the corner Marcolet, the grocery store. It’s the optics of participating in this amazingly disruptive event. I think what I’m taking away this year from these verses is it’s not simply about maybe he might touch the dead person and become tamey. It goes more than that in the Pasuk. It goes more than that because it says he shouldn’t go through the shaving of his head, he shouldn’t go through the mourning motions. And in the Talmud, Rabbi Meir accentuates that by saying he shouldn’t be seen at the funeral. He has this desire to see his father, his mother being buried, but he cannot be seen doing that. Because I think the optics, to use your wor, Rabbi, is the optics have to be that he’s not touched by death, that his life is going on. And that struck me a lot this year.
Adam Mintz [00:12:59]:
Life, you know, the temple is the opposite of death, because the temple is supposed to give life. And if the Cohen Godel is supposed to be in the temple, he can’t come in contact with death. It’s fascinating.
Geoffrey Stern [00:13:12]:
So in thetora.com it does kind of see the uniqueness of combining these two sets of laws. The laws of mourning and. And impurity provided by death and marriage. It says immediately following the laws restricting contact with the dead are the laws about maintaining the priest and his family holiness with respect to marriage. This is followed by laws for the high priest in the same order. So there’s no question that these two first kind of paragraphs are situ it together and start one thinking. Some suggest lineal purity is a rationale only for the restrictions on the high priest who must marry a virgin. This is supported by the motive clause that he shall not profane his seed among his kids. However, this consideration does not justify the blanket prohibition of a widow. The priest could simply wait a fixed amount of time. So what we’re finding, especially amongst the moderns, is they’re trying to figure out they can maybe understand the thing about mourning, but the thing about not marrying. So you could say not marrying a virgin. There’s a lot to be made of in ancient society in general about a woman who’s special just for you, who hasn’t been defiled hasn’t been touched. And that’s why he says you could understand this to be that, that the Cohen has to marry up. He can’t marry used goods. But that doesn’t explain necessarily a widow or some of the other things. Maybe it does, maybe it doesn’t. But the commentaries are struggling over this. There are some scholars who talk about a profane woman is a cultic prostitute, not just any prostitute. And one of the commentary said not quite clear why a cultic prostitute should be less problematic than an ordinary prostitute. But bringing in a avodah zora always ups the ante. But again, they’re trying to figure this out. They’re trying to understand why these women are clearly okay for Israelite and not okay for a cohen.
Adam Mintz [00:15:35]:
It’s interesting. The cultic prostitute seems to be something that was, that was very familiar in the ancient world. It’s not like taken out of nowhere.
Geoffrey Stern [00:15:45]:
And of course the irony of a cultic prostitute is if there is one, she is called a kadesha. Which is
Adam Mintz [00:15:56]:
right.
Geoffrey Stern [00:15:56]:
Yes.
Adam Mintz [00:15:56]:
Which basically means separate. Right. The prostitute is separate. She’s not really part of society.
Geoffrey Stern [00:16:03]:
So there’s also, you know, as Freud pointed out in his book Totem and Taboo, there’s a connection between that which is forbidden, which is separated from us, and that which is holy, which is separated from us. So again the commentaries are trying to understand what the Cohen becomes who doesn’t follow these rules. He becomes a halal or a halalah. And we’ve kind of talked about this word a little bit. There was a Israeli, a great Israeli movie called Filling the Void (למלא את החלל). And halal can mean a void. Interpretations of halal is to pierce to profane. According to this interpretation, the term refers to a penetrated woman, either any non virgin or a woman who has been raped. And that the priest according to this would have to marry a virgin. That again we’re trying to figure out what is this word that is the opposite it used here for holy in thetorah.com it brings a scholar named Sarah Shechtman. And she argues that these laws have to do with the nature of the marital bond, which she suggests conceptualizing as a cord binding husband and wife. In ancient Israel, a woman’s status was determined by her primary male bond. Unmarried women are connected to their fathers and married women to their husband. When a woman was widowed, the cord dissolved. There is no idea in the ancient world of an unconnected woman. She had to belong to somebody through it left alone of a mark to render the woman unfit for marriage to the high priest. When she was divorced, the court was cut, but it remained present because her prior husband was still alive, leaving her primary male bond hanging. So I really, what struck me, Rabbi, was the lengths to which these modern commentaries were struggling and trying to create a thesis, an explanation for these laws. We always ask this, what is the problem that Rashi is trying to solve? So what is it about these rules? And of course, you probably come into contact with these in terms of conversion. When you convert somebody, that’s an issue. Marrying a kohen as well.
Adam Mintz [00:18:44]:
Very big issue. Correct.
Geoffrey Stern [00:18:47]:
These are inscrutable type of rules that are still here because kohanim take their lineage very seriously. But again, it’s not that much stranger than other laws in the Torah that we have to figure out. I mean, it seems to me the most, I think, knee jerk explanation that I would give is that the kohen is on a higher level. He’s a higher caste. I kind of intimated that before. And therefore, while the rest of us of our people don’t have to be so particular in who we marry, the choices for a kohen, like a king maybe are more limited. And it has to do with aesthetics or anything. It basically is all of these women are, I would say, not the perfect match. It’s not the match made in heaven. When you meet a couple and they say, we were seventeen, we met in high school and we’ve been married ever since, you know, you go, it’s a beautiful story. That doesn’t mean that the rest of us who have more, every story is the same story.
Adam Mintz [00:20:02]:
Right?
Geoffrey Stern [00:20:03]:
There’s nothing wrong with divorce in Judaism. There is nothing wrong with marrying a widow. I would venture to say it’s a mitzvah. So that to me is, and I think they kind of hesitating to say this, that. But it does strike me as odd that all of these commentaries are kind of squirming one more. And this one, I think really reflects how, how hard they have to press. Dr. Eve Lavavi Feinstein argues, I believe these laws reflect a notion common throughout the Bible, that a man who has sex with a woman marks her permanently, leaving her, so to speak, with something of his essence. When sex takes place outside of marriage, it may be regarded as contamina, polluting the woman. The root tame. Pollute is frequently used to describe the effect of adultery on a woman, which involves the introduction of a foreign or improper essence. I mean, what challenges me with an explanation like that, Rabbi, is it’s hard to translate it into Hebrew. I don’t know what it means, what is essence?
Adam Mintz [00:21:08]:
Right. What is essence?
Geoffrey Stern [00:21:11]:
It’s really kind of fascinating. So what I want to do is I think that all of these scholars have forgotten the third leg of this parasha. Because the next thing that happens is we Read in Leviticus 21:16 as follows, and there’s no gap. And God spoke further to Moses, speak to Aaron and say, no man among you offspring throughout the ages who has a defect shall be qualified to offer the food of his God. Again, we have this ochel Eloheim. No one at all who has a defect shall qualified. No man who is blind or lame, or has a limb too short or too long, no man who has a broken leg or a broken arm, or his hunchback or a dwarf or a scurvy, no man among the offspring of Aaron the priest who has a defect shall be qualified to offer God’s offering by fire. Again, it has that word about Lechem Elohav having a defect. He shall not be qualified to offer the food of his God. He may eat of the food of his God, of the most Holy, as well as of the Holy. But he shall not enter behind the curtain or come near the altar, for he has a defect. He shall not profane these places sacred to me, for I, God, have sanctified them to me. Rabbi, it gets back to that piece of Talmud from Rabbi Meir where he said, it’s the optics, as you said, when it says enter behind the curtain. It struck me, as we are talking a little bit theater here. This is the show of holiness. And in the show of holiness, everything has to be perfect. There can’t be someone who’s maimed as much as God loves the maimed. There can’t be someone who’s not married to that Hollywood marriage. And there can’t be someone who is mortal in a sense, and mourning. And of course, that goes against what we typically say about the laws of Kahuna. Typically. Rabbi, I argue that a Cohen can’t come in touch with death because the Egyptian pharaohs and their priests worship death and we move away from death. But what this reading will say is that the Cohen has to death doesn’t own him, that in fact he’s like God, that he’s not impacted by death. Do you think that this third leg, this third group of rules, has an impact on how you read the first two?
Adam Mintz [00:23:52]:
Well, there’s no question. And the juxtaposition, the fact that it comes right afterwards shows that it’s all the same thing. Look at the end Kiani hashem, mechadishem. It’s the same word for I, God have sanctified them. And the word mekadishchem is the same word as kadosh, meaning to sanctify. So clearly it’s talking about the same thing. It’s all how do you separate the kohed and how do you define what that separation is?
Geoffrey Stern [00:24:21]:
And what’s fascinating to me. And I keep on saying it, but now I’m going to kind of hit it on its head. This lechem elohav is kind of rare. It only really occurs in this, these three parshiot, in these three different relationships. And of course, to be specific, lechem elohav literally would mean the bread of God. But I think the general interpretation means it has to do with the sacrifices, it has to do with all of the nutrients, the foodstuffs that we give to God. But it does. This is kind of a unique vision for the Kahuna, for the priests. And I think it’s one that we don’t really kind of isolate or focus on too much. I said in the intro, you know, what would it be like if we weren’t affected by death? What would it be like if we had the perfect spouse and family? What would that is this is a kind of a unique to me interpretation of kedusha that we don’t normally, I think, address directly. The Ralbag in his explanation says the fact that she was divorced, getting back to that middle segment shows that something negative about her. So he in a sense kind of gives a little remez to the fact that what linked the second portion is something wrong. There’s something wrong. And of course, what could be more wrong than death? You know, man was born in the Garden of Eden, he was going to live forever. He was born in the Garden of Eden, unitary, not even needing another a spouse. And he clearly was born in the Garden of Eden, complete and beautiful and pure. And so much of our religion and Judaism celebrates all of the opposites of that. It celebrates cleaving to one spouse, finding somebody, making someone else whole, which by definition means they’re not complete without you. And it talks about that we are gathered to our people, our life is mortal. So I think this really to me also shows a path not taken because I would say mainstream Judaism has not followed this path. If you look at the Hasidic stories, they celebrate the people who are imperfect. As the great Leonard Cohen said, it’s the crack that lets the light in. So let’s look at a slightly different interpretation of halal. And in Hebrew, it means to pollute, defile, profane, but also litten, loosen, open, untie, become free, become lawful. And this is something that’s fascinating. The same word that means defile can also mean to free. In our tradition, Rabbi Hulin is food that has taken. You’ve taken the truma, the meisser, you’ve taken the 10th of it and given it to the priest. And now it becomes profane. Yes, but it also becomes hulin. Permitted.
Adam Mintz [00:27:48]:
Permitted. Correct.
Geoffrey Stern [00:27:49]:
Permitted to eat. Eat. Actually, the Arabs have captured that when we see a restaurant or a food stand, that is halal. The Arab word for halal is permissible. It’s the same as hulin. It means that something that is not too holy to be eaten. It is something that is part of us, that is given to us. A hulin, as I said before, is referring to animals or birds consumed in nine.
Adam Mintz [00:28:20]:
I wonder whether the word comes from the word chol. Chol, meaning like the weekdays, the ordinary, as opposed to Shabbos, or the chulin, as opposed to the sacred.
Geoffrey Stern [00:28:33]:
I think they’re all connected. And we always knee jerk when we say hiloni means secular, but it also means part of the normal life. So I do think it’s kind of fascinating, number one, the juxtaposition between what is holy and. We’ve seen what that can mean. And that which is permissive, which is the. You’re permitted to marry who you want, you’re permitted to not be perfect. You’re permitted to confront your mortality. I just found that kind of fascinating. And I must say, getting. Just getting back from Portugal, one of the things that was fascinating to me was the power of the monasteries in Portugal and the fact that they so ruled the country that at a certain point in time in 1834, a new king arose and he kicked them out. In other words, we see that a little bit with Hamas and Isis, where this religion can take people and isolate them too far from normal people and where they can kind of do damage. And it kind of, I guess, sensitized me to the power of the hulin, the power of the hol. In juxtaposed to the perfect world of
Adam Mintz [00:29:57]:
the kodesh, it all goes back to Portugal. This was amazing. Everybody should enjoy the beginning of this week’s Torah portion, which is a great Torah portion. Shabbat shalom to everybody. And we look forward to seeing you next week. We’re going to finish up the book of Vayikra, of Leviticus next week. Bahar Bechukotai. Have a good week everybody.
Geoffrey Stern [00:30:16]:
Looking forward to next week. Some people will let out a sigh of let out a breath of air when we finish Vayikra, but we’ve enjoyed every page. Look forward to seeing you all next week. Shabbat Shalom.



