Law (Part Deux) or Vincent Gambini Passes the Bar On His Sixth Attempt

 L eviticus. Sound familiar? Like Marty McFly, it feels like we were just here yesterday. That’s because we were. Leviticus has so many laws it requires an immediate sequel. If you skipped the last post, allow me to recap: Leviticus sucks. Levitical law is the sort of reading material you’ll find in the waiting room at Dr. Christian Szell’s private practice. Is it safe? That’s up for debate. This ancient law code presents some timeless moral guidelines that are impossible to argue against, but many of its bylaws would even leave Doctor (you know Who) at a loss for words.

We all know there has to be rules for society to function. That usually doesn’t include banning spandex, but then that’s kinda what makes God’s instruction stand out (see Lev. 19:19b). So what is God’s problem with mixed fabrics anyway? Is there really a universe out there where Padme Amidala’s wardrobe is the bad guy? This rule causes the Israelites to check their clothing labels so many times it shows up again in Deuteronomy 22 to set the record straight. Don’t throw out your yoga pants just yet. As it turns out, only wool and linen blends are off limits (see v. 11). But why? The answer may lie in Exodus 28:6, where priestly garb gets a Savile Row upgrade. Being in God’s presence is serious business and, like Judge Chamberlain Haller’s courtroom, appropriate attire is required. For priests, this includes a fancy wool/linen combo. They’re not called men of the cloth for nothing. Apparently, being around God is a lot like working at Chotchkies: a minimum amount of flair is expected. This would explain why Israel can’t blend these fabrics for everyday use. It’s a dress code directly associated with working for God.

Priests are like the Jedi Counsel of Israel. It’s a pretty exclusive group. Only guys from the tribe of Levi qualify for the job (see Num. 3:5-13). That’s right. God has a chosen people among his chosen people. It’s a questionable honor since they’re held to a higher standard than the general public. They’re basically air traffic controllers between God and the people. The text portrays it as the same kind of high-stress environment. For obvious reasons, God prohibits drinking on the job (see Lev. 10:8-10). This isn’t the place for the antics of Nick Falzone. Screwing up can affect the entire community (see Lev. 4:3). It can also cost you your life. Aaron’s oldest sons find this out the hard way when they get their Ronald Bartel on in the Tabernacle. The misstep earns them a fiery pink slip (see Lev. 10:1, 2).

But being a Levite doesn’t automatically get you the job. Applicants are required to be near-perfect specimens. Turns out, getting hired by God is harder than getting your foot in the door at Gattaca. Disqualifying features include everything from blindness to dry skin (see Lev. 21:16-21). Now that’s what I call workplace discrimination. Abnormally long eyebrows also make the list. Don’t tell Fran Stalinovskovichdavidovitchsky. God even bans dudes with “crushed testicles” from being priests. You know what that means. Johann van der Smut can mark pastoral work off his list of future endeavors (also note the John Wayne Bobbitt rule in Deuteronomy 23:2). To be fair, everything that gets near God has to pass the same inspection, human and animal alike. The priestly criteria sounds a little less discriminatory when it’s revealed the sacrifices Israel brings to the table have identical requirements (see Lev. 22:21-24). It doesn’t matter if you’re a priest or a goat, your gonads are held to the same standard. That’s humbling.

Speaking of sacrifices, no review of Leviticus is complete without mentioning sacrificial law. Brace yourself. This rule is more dated than Gordon Gecko’s cellphone. Barbecuing animals to pardon your bad behavior sounds weird. Strike that. Listening to 8-track tapes sounds weird. Executing poor Djali because you broke the law is a stint at Smith’s Grove Sanitarium waiting to happen. But there are a few misconceptions about this ancient practice we should clear up. First off, the Tanach doesn’t use the word sacrifice. Offering is its word of choice. What’s the difference? Simply put, sacrifice implies separating yourself from something while offering indicates getting near something. It’s not just about throwing another shrimp on the barbie. It’s a complex ritual that is apparently about getting closer to God. Leviticus dedicates its first seven chapters to the process. Scrub those imagines of hooded figures standing around a rock chanting over a virgin at dusk. Sergeant Howie can relax. This isn’t Summerisle. God draws a red line when it comes to human sacrifice (see Lev. 18:21, 20:2-5; Deut. 12:31, 18:10; he even uses his Samuel L. Jackson voice in Jeremiah 7:31).

So what do people offer and when is it required? Interestingly, the first offerings the text mentions are voluntary (see chapters 1-3). This sort of thing has been going on since Cain and Abel (see Gen. 4:3, 4). These are basically shout outs to God. The good news is you don’t have to roast Babe the Blue Ox to get his attention. Those among Israel who can’t afford a Paul Bunyan-sized gift can use birds or even cook up a pizza: “fine flour … deep pan … baked in an oven” (Lev. 2:4-8). It appears size doesn’t matter (see Lev. 1:9, 13, 17).

Mandatory offerings are only necessary when laws are violated. To make amends a blood offering is generally required (see chapters 4-7). As a result, Israel offers up goats at a faster rate than Jurassic Park. This makes God appear less sporting than a Yautja—but then the same passage reveals he’s willing to accept a measure of flour as a viable substitute (see 5:11). What starts off with the sadistic potential of Kit Carruthers is almost immediately reduced to the slapstick antics of the Swedish Chef. God isn’t making any inroads with the humane society here, but his harmless alternative makes it kinda hard to call him bloodthirsty. The emphasis doesn’t rest on the nature of the offerings, but the action of the individuals who bring the offerings. Scripture even touts “knowledge of God” over offerings (Hosea 6:6; also see 1 Sam. 15:22; Prov. 21:3; Micah 6:6-8). Thanks to the passing of time, this old school ritual comes with more baggage than Matthew Saunder’s ex-girlfriend, but, somehow, God comes out the other side wearing Maverick’s aviator shades.

After a lengthy section involving blood offerings it’s a little surprising to find a list of rules concerning animal cruelty. And no, you won’t find these posted on PETA’s website. We’re not talking about what Iosef Tarakov did to John Wick’s dog. The rule that gets the most press involves cooking a kid (the non-human kind) in its mother’s milk (check out the B-sides to Exod. 23:19, 34:26; Deut. 14:21). Better mark this one under cruel and unusual. Leave it to Scripture to make Snow White look like Leonard Smalls. There’s also a ban on killing animals alongside their offspring on the same day (see Lev. 22:28). If you’ve got a Saturday night reservation at Carmine Sabatini’s Fabulous Gourmet Club, you know where this is going. No need to contribute to the extinction of a species. Birds are extended the same courtesy (see Deut. 22:6, 7). Considering how often animals get the shaft in Scripture, it’s nice to finally see God instate some protections.

Food is another topic that gets a lot of attention. What is eaten and how it’s prepared is extremely important to God. In fact, he’s more interested in Israel’s diet than Jillian Michaels. Genesis 1:29 says God’s original plan was vegetarianism, but to accommodate humanity’s Encino Man appetite, he expanded the menu (see Gen. 9:3). With Levitical law, he aims for a happy medium-well (see Deut. 12:23). This is bad news if you like your steak cooked rare (see Lev. 17:14). As Fielding Mellish would say, “Blood! That should be on the inside!” Leviticus 11 says Israel can’t even eat animals that eat blood (vv. 26, 27). The same goes for birds (vv. 13-19). Anything that causes or benefits from another creature’s demise is off limits. In the same way, Israel can’t hunt or scavenge (see Exod. 22:30; Deut. 14:21). As for seafood, there’s one abiding rule: you have to throw back anything that doesn’t have scales (v. 9). Reptiles and most insects don’t make the cut either (vv. 23 and 42). That settles it. You’re gonna have to cancel your invitation to the Guardian of the Tradition Dinner.

How about this one: Don’t grab a dude’s junk. Yep. That’s totally scriptural. The text uses a wife coming to the aid of her husband as an example. It’s a Buffy Summers, “Nobody messes with my boyfriend” moment. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to protect your man, just don’t zero in on his opponent’s junk (Deut. 25:11). We all know a guy’s kryptonite is taking a shot to the beanbag and after what Suzie Diablo did to Lester Watts, who can say a little regulation isn’t necessary? In order to ensure the old “be fruitful and multiply” narrative is preserved, God establishes a rule to keep the fertility rate high while avoiding any possibility of a Themyscirain gynarchy. It’s the male counterpoint to Exodus 21:22. The penalty reads like a bloody scene from the House of Blue Leaves (see 25:12). As Beatrix Kiddo would say, “Leave the limbs you’ve lost. They belong to me now.” The wording in verse 12 makes it hard to believe it’s just a request for monetary compensation. After all of the “eye for eye, hand for hand” talk, this is the only verse that actually suggests it. But since there aren’t any accounts of this sort of punishment recorded in the Torah, it’s impossible to give it a proper MPAA rating.

Deciphering the harsher moments in Scripture can be trickier than understanding Mickey O’Neil’s pikey accent. Despite the ominous phrase “their blood is upon them,” the Torah isn’t overrun with examples of lawbreakers getting written out of the script. The text makes it abundantly clear what happens when you break the law, but on the rare occasions that God actually drops the hammer, it’s always more surprising than a Sadko checkmate. The instance that stands out the most is Numbers 15, where a guy is caught collecting firewood on the Sabbath (vv. 32, 33). News flash: Keeping the Sabbath has nothing to do with going to church. It has everything to do with nothing (see Exod. 20:8-11, 31:14-17, 35:2; Lev. 23:3; Deut. 5:12-14). It’s a day tailor-made for joining the Circle in Eric Forman’s basement. But despite death being the most frequently stated penalty for breaking this rule, killing offenders obviously isn’t common practice, because the people have no idea what to do (v. 34). It’s not until God confirms it’s clobberin’ time that they carry out his Ben Grimm instructions (vv. 35, 36). A similar situation plays out in Leviticus 24:10-14. These are the sort of passages that’ll make you uncomfortable in a hurry. But if there’s any good news here it’s that God presents himself as someone who’s comfortable with progress: “I Will Be That Which I Will Be” (Exod. 3:14). That’s not a statement. That’s his name. As a result, the only people getting stoned these days are Raoul Duke and Dr. Gonzo.

Some rules are harder to define. Scripture doesn’t even dedicate a full verse to tattoos, but what little it offers isn’t favorable. Is Kat Von D about to be out of a job? According to Leviticus 19:28, yes and probably. The verse appears in conjunction with God restricting self-inflicted cuts as a way of mourning, so it’s possible the ban is only limited to body art celebrating the dead, but there’s no way of knowing for sure. Lucky Diamond Rich may need to start considering tattoo removal options. Cutting, shaving and plucking your hair are also forbidden methods of mourning (see Lev. 21:5; Deut. 14:1). These qualify as pagan rituals and God doesn’t want Israel keeping up with the Joneses (see Lev. 18:3). For now, pouring out a 40 may be the safest option.

God isn’t a big fan of sorcery or witchcraft either. If you’re planning to hang out with the Halliwell sisters this weekend, put away the Ouija board. Good witches. Bad witches. Teenage witches. All roads lead to Salem (see Exod. 22:17). It doesn’t matter if you’re handing out poison apples or helping a Kansas tornado victim get home. God has a zero-tolerance policy for all Hogwarts alumni. Even the more casual aspects are prohibited, like reading your daily horoscope or calling the Psychic Friends Network (see Lev. 19:26, 31; Deut. 18:10, 11). Looks like Dave Stutler should’ve stayed in school and focused on that physics degree, after all.

In the end, Leviticus plays out like a drug-free version of Mark Renton’s choose life speech (see Deut. 30:19). Even more surprising, God’s rules aren’t as arbitrary as they first appeared. The overarching theme has everything to do with avoiding death. This shouldn’t be mistaken for Tommy Creo’s search. We’re talking protocol. The quickest way to contaminate yourself is by touching a corpse (see Num. 19:11-20). That doesn’t bode well for Larry Wilson and Richard Parker. This is why predatory animals are excluded from Israel’s diet. It’s also why discharges of blood and semen are always followed by a hot bath. And no, masturbating in the shower doesn’t cancel out the process. There goes the high point of Lester Burnham’s day. The old phrase “cleanliness is next to godliness” is no joke. Just ask Adrian Monk.

Levitical law is kinda like a Kobayashi Maru test. The standard is simply too high. Israel appears destined to fail. God is basically asking adherents to cut down the mightiest tree in the forest… with a herring. It’s hard to tell if he’s looking out for everyone’s best interest or just taking cues from the Borg. As Locutus would say, “Why do you resist? We only wish to raise the quality of life for all species.” If this has you sprinting for the closest escape pod, don’t slow down because I’m right behind you. Fortunately, launching ourselves into space won’t be necessary since there’s nothing that says we have to accept God’s rules. Only Hebrews and those who adopt the Hebrew lifestyle are under obligation. It’s a red pill, blue pill decision. Once you take up with Israel there’s no turning back (see Deut. 27:26).

It’s easy to make fun of these ancient laws, but you may want to look over the legislation in your state before giving Leviticus too much flak, because at this very moment in Alaska it’s illegal to get drunk in a bar. Seriously. It doesn’t make any sense and we can’t blame God this time. There’s more. In Oklahoma there’s a law on the books that says it’s illegal to make ugly faces at a dog. You can’t cuss in front of a corpse in Georgia. Florida still has the death penalty…for horse thieves. Getting a tattoo is illegal in Kentucky. In Michigan adultery is a felony. And while Virginia may be for lovers, having sex is a Class 4 misdemeanor if you’re not married. Oral sex is illegal in over a dozen states and it’s unlawful to sleep naked in Minnesota. In West Virginia it’s illegal for a dude to have sex with an animal that—wait for it—weighs more than 40 pounds. If you jump off a building in New York and survive you may be put to death. But the big winner is Utah, where it is illegal to detonate a nuclear device. And the list goes on.

It’s probably a good thing Israel accepted God’s proposal prior to knowing the rules (see Exod. 19:8). Had they reviewed all 613 rules beforehand, they likely would’ve thrown in the towel faster than Monty Capuletti. It’s not necessarily a bad deal. It’s just a lot to live up to. Apparently, this is what it means to be God’s people: you become an outreach program to everyone else. Like the Blues Brothers, Israel is on a mission from God. So what do they get out of the deal? According to the text, a sweet healthcare plan, topnotch security and a major real estate acquisition (see Exod. 23:25-30; Deut. 7:12-15). On the flipside, breaking the rules will come back to bite them harder than Cujo (see Deut. 28:15-66).

For Israel, this is a defining moment. Levitical law is the Infinity Stone that puts them on everyone’s radar. Armed with this crazy new standard of living, they suddenly find themselves branded Guardians of the Galaxy, which is appropriate since some of God’s rules feel about as far removed as Earth-616. Israel is diverse and dysfunctional and their approach pisses off pretty much everybody. As Denarian Saal would say, “What a bunch of a-holes.” He’s not wrong either. Israel is short on credibility and its methods often raise hard questions. That said, 3,500 years later we’re still discussing minutiae like diehard Trekkies conversing in Klingon at Comic-Con. Maybe it’s because we’re still following many of the same rules today. Like it or not, the core of this ancient code is embedded within modern law. And that’s not likely to change—unless we decide to legalize murder. I hate to admit it, but it appears this ragtag group of a-holes got something right and a lot of the credit goes to Levitical law. Of course, it’s the source of most of their problems, too. That’s why we haven’t stopped reading yet.