בס”ד
This blog post is a summary of a powerful lesson on the significance of words, as explored in the parsha Tazria. It’s definitely worth watching the full lesson on YouTube for a deeper insight. Here, we share some key ideas and practical lessons on how we can use our speech in daily life to build rather than break.
The Altars Are Open: The Offering of the Ben Noach
What if I told you that the Torah opens its holiest place—the Temple, the altar, the spiritual epicenter of the world—not just to Israel, but to all humanity?
In a world of tribal G-ds, national deities, and closed rituals, the Torah makes a radical move. It tells us that a Ben Noach (a descendant of Noah, i.e., a non-Jew who follows the seven Noahide laws) not only can bring offerings to G-d, but that those offerings are welcome, meaningful, and deeply holy.
We live in a time when the Temple is not standing. Hopefully, we will see the restoration of the Beit HaMikdash in our time. Sacrifices might feel like a thing of the past. But even today, your sincerity still matters. Your offering is still real. Because even in a post-Temple world, the Torah says: “Let the nations come and offer.”
So today’s talk is about this central question:
What does the Torah say about a Noahide’s ability to give, and what does G-d accept?
Leviticus 22: Who May Offer?
In Leviticus (Vayikra) chapter 22, verses 18–25, the Torah lays down the laws of who can bring what on the altar.
The text begins:
“Speak to Aaron and his sons and to all the children of Israel and say to them: any man of the house of Israel or of the strangers in Israel who brings his offering…”
From the outset, the Torah includes the stranger—the non-Jew. His offering is brought for any of their vows or free-will offerings—whether it’s thanksgiving, a donation, or a moment of spiritual elevation.
But then comes verse 25, which says:
“And from a foreigner’s hand you shall not offer the bread of your G-d from any of these, because their corruption is in them.”
So, we have to ask: Is the Torah contradicting itself?
Verse 18 says non-Jews may bring offerings; verse 25 seems to say they may not.
What the Sages Say
The sages—Chazal—resolve this beautifully. A Jew may bring both obligatory and voluntary offerings: sin offerings, guilt offerings, and the tamid, the daily offering brought twice a day.
A Noahide, however, may bring voluntary offerings only, such as an olah (a burnt elevation offering).
So, when verse 25 says not to bring “from the hand of a foreigner,” Chazal tell us this refers to blemished animals, not to all offerings in general.
Tosefta and the Rambam (Maimonides) in Hilchot Ma’aseh HaKorbanot rule very clearly: even a gentile may offer a korban olah (burnt offering), as long as it is unblemished.
Private Altars and Public Holiness
Additionally, Noahides may offer sacrifices on private altars that they themselves have built—anywhere. That might sound exotic today, because it’s not something we see. But it’s allowed.The only prohibition for such offerings is that the animal should not be missing a limb. A whole offering, even in the field, is valid.
But when this person brings an offering to the Temple, it must meet the same unblemished standards as Israel’s own offerings. In the Temple precincts, the standards are higher, and uniform.
The Temple was open to the nations of the world—as long as the offering was whole and unblemished. That doesn’t just mean physically whole—it means whole in spirit. The person offering must do so sincerely, to honor G-d, with the right intention, at the proper time, and through proper means.
As we will explain, it is not something Noahides should actually do. Rather, they should make use of prayer as an “offering” to G-d.
Sincerity Above All
The offering must reflect a desire to serve G-d, not to manipulate Him. It must be brought according to His will, meaning there are technical specifications for sacrifices.
As the Ramban writes on Leviticus 1:9, the purpose of a korban is for a person to envision himself as the one being offered—coming with a broken and contrite heart.
As it says in Psalms 51:19:
“The sacrifices of G-d are a broken spirit, a broken and contrite heart—O G-d, you will not despise.”
That’s not to say the physical sacrifice is unnecessary, or that all you need is the right emotions. It means that if a person has no interest in their relationship with G-d—or, in the case of a sin offering, they have no remorse—then the act becomes meaningless.
The korban is there to trigger a mindset—a transformation—regarding our relationship with G-d and His mitzvot.
Ethical Cleanliness
Rashi explains that Leviticus 22:25 refers to offerings acquired through robbery or deceit. G-d rejects them not because of the identity of the giver, but because the offering itself is tainted.
The Rambam takes it even further:
Even an idolator, someone who worships foreign G-ds, can still bring a burnt offering, if they are sincere at the time of offering.
Why? Because the altar is a place of reconciliation, not perfection. You don’t need to be a perfect person—none of us are—but your intentions must be true.
The Sifra, a midrash on Leviticus, says:
“The gates of the Temple were never locked to the nations of the world.”
This isn’t vague pluralism. This is radical access with radical responsibility.
Can We Offer Today?
Many Noahides ask:
If we love Hashem and want to serve Him—where’s the ritual? Can we just build an altar and bring sacrifices?
When I first heard the question, I thought, “Well, we haven’t brought sacrifices for the last 2,000 years…” It’s just not something we do now.
But the yearning behind the question is real. It comes from a desire to give something tangible, sacred, ancient.
And absolutely—the Torah affirms that this instinct to give is holy.
The Book of Genesis is filled with people offering sacrifices: Adam, Noah, Cain, Abel. Sacrifice is part of humanity’s original spiritual grammar.
But today, without a Temple, and without a divine command, Chazal caution against building private altars—not because the desire is wrong, but because the context matters.
The ritual must be holy and whole.
Prayer: The Offering of Today
That’s why the prophet Hosea gives us a spiritual upgrade. He says in Hosea 14:3:
“We will offer the bulls of our lips.”
What does this mean? Our prayers, our praises, our words of yearning—these are our korbanot now. These are our sacrifices in the absence of the Beit HaMikdash.
And when you think about it, this is a stark contrast to ancient pagan systems. Those religions offered sacrifices to appease violent G-ds. Their offerings weren’t about devotion—they were about desperation.
By the time of Marcus Aurelius, Roman rituals had become an empty theater. Sacrifices were no longer believed. Meaning shifted to philosophy, reason, and stoicism.
But the Torah never reduced sacrifice to superstition.
Sacrifice as Self-Realignment
Rav Samson Raphael Hirsch teaches that sacrifice in Torah is not bribery. It is a form of self-realignment.
You weren’t offering meat to a hungry G-d. You were offering yourself—as a gesture, an expression of your own inner desire.
It turns out that G-d doesn’t want transactional fear. He wants something deeper, higher. He wants yir’ah—reverent awe. The kind of feeling that silences ego and opens the soul.
So today, when you pray with sincerity, when you thank with humility, when you return to your highest self—you’re offering something real. You’re bringing yourself to the altar.
Your Screen Is Your Courtyard
The Beit HaMikdash has yet to return. But the yearning to offer is still alive.
For most Noahides, the gateway to that yearning is not a mountain in Jerusalem. These days, it’s a screen—your phone, your laptop, your digital self. Facebook groups. WhatsApp chats. Torah YouTube channels.
These are our new courtyards.
And just like the ancient courtyard of the Temple, these digital spaces can be filled with awe and sincerity—or they can be corrupted.
In a time when outrage is rewarded, and hollow declarations go viral, Noahides face a unique challenge:
To bring offerings online that are unblemished.
That doesn’t mean censored. It means discerning.
Are your posts offered from a place of service?
Do they reflect truth—or are they spiritual performance?
Even Torah discourse online can be affected by ego, factionalism, and spiritual vanity.
What Does an Unblemished Digital Offering Look Like?
It might be:
- A sincere Torah insight shared with humility
- A kind comment that lifts someone instead of tearing them down
- An attitude—a refusal to shame, a refusal to posture
It’s not just etiquette. It’s digital avodah.
It can be a form of sacred service.
Social media is not the altar. But your soul is.
And how you offer it—even online—matters.
The Gates Are Still Open
The altar may be hidden, but the invitation remains open.
G-d does not ask for perfection. He asks for sincerity.
He asks for unblemished giving—even if it’s just your words.
Prayer is it now. Prayer is our method of sacrifice. Take full advantage of it. Invest time in it.
Because that’s always been the medium of communication. Even in Genesis, we see not only sacrifice, but conversation—verbal conversation between human beings and Hashem.
So even if all you have are your words—your heart, your sincerity, your prayer—that is your offering.
And the next time you speak with intention, give with love, or pray with honesty—you are walking the path of the Beit HaMikdash.
As we said before:
The gates of the Temple were never locked to the nations of the world.
And neither are they now.
By Rabbi Tani Burton
More shiurim of Rabbi Tani Burton
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