This past week marked a date on the calendar called Pesach Sheni, the “second Passover.” While it’s not really a day that has any contemporary ritual for observance, it’s a day the Torah sets aside for anyone who was unable to bring the Passover offering at the proper time, due to distance, impurity, or other circumstance. When so many other components of our tradition are about the exact right thing at the exact time, this strikes me as fascinating. Rather than saying “you missed your chance,” the Torah builds in the possibility of return.The Torah has a mechanism for second changes, for a do-over.
This is not just a logistical accommodation. I think it’s bigger than that. It’s a theological statement that no one should be left out of the story of liberation - our master story.
And yet, this week’s parasha, Emor, presents a seeming contradiction. A list of physical “blemishes” disqualifies certain priests from full participation in sacred service. While on the one hand we have this ritual of tremendous compassion and second changes for the sake of inclusion, on the other we read of these priests who are prohibited because of various conditions. What do we do with a Torah that both includes and excludes?
The Hasidic teacher, the Ishbitzer Rebbe, offers a powerful insight. He suggests that the true blemish is not physical at all. It is the inability to integrate our imperfections into who we are, to build a relationship with God through them. He suggests that we find a greater sense of wholeness and peace when we incorporate the fullness of our humanity into our connection to God.
When the Torah says that the disqualified priest may still eat of “his God’s holy offerings,” it is teaching us something radical: holiness is not about perfection. It’s about understanding what we’re capable of as humans, it’s about connection, and it’s about belonging. Intimacy with the Divine is not reserved for the flawless; it is accessible to all of us, as we are.
In a world that often pushes us to perform perfection, Pesach Sheni and Emor offer a counter-message: your place in sacred life does not depend on being unblemished. It depends on your willingness to show up fully, and to claim your holy space.