I'm an avid biker and ride my bicycle everywhere, even in the midst of Manhattan traffic and in Israel. So a friend asked me if I could help his six-year-old son, who was just about to learn how to ride a bike without training wheels, and was a bit afraid of the whole enterprise. The son asked me, "But what if I fall off my bike?" I answered by explaining that his question needed rephrasing: it is not a matter of "'if' I fall off my bike," but "'when' I fall off my bike." Everybody who rides a bike will at one point take a gravity check. It's part of the game.

       This difference between "if" and "when" plays a crucial role in Parashat

Vayikra, which describes the various kinds of sacrifices that different people or groups of people have to bring in case of inadvertent wrongdoings (shegaga). The text specifically mentions the High Priest, "the whole community" (in the interpretation of the Talmud this meant the members of the Great Sanhedrin), "the ruler" (nasi), and an ordinary individual. In three cases, the law of sin offering is introduced by the word im (if). However, in the case of the ruler, the law is prefaced by the word asher (when). Just as in English, so too in Hebrew: im and asher are not synonyms.

      The English philosopher Thomas Hobbes wrote in his Leviathan that, ultimately, governmental authority rests on "the consent of the governed." Why does the Bible apparently think that these leaders are particularly likely to make mistakes? Consent of the governed is a double-edged sword.

Rabbi Nissim Gerondi (Ran) writes in his Derashot HaRan (11):

      ''You shall appoint magistrates and officers . . . and they shall judge the people by just law'' (Deut. 16:18) . . . The plain meaning of the text is as follows. It is known that the human species needs magistrates to adjudicate among individuals, for otherwise ''men would eat each other alive'' (Avot 3:2), and humanity would be destroyed. Every nation needs some sort of political organization [yishuv medini] for this purpose, since-as the wise man put it-even ''a gang of thieves will subscribe to justice among themselves.'' . . . Since the king sees that he is not bound to Torah law as the judge is, he must be strongly admonished not to deviate from its commandments ''to the right or to the left'' [nor to] ''act haughtily toward his fellows,'' in view of the great power God has given him.

       Kings and other leaders were especially vulnerable to being tempted to act according to popular sentiment; while they could be tempted by the enormous power granted to their office, they at the same time also had to rely on popular support. Even in medieval Europe, kings and queens were often appointed by the votes of councils of the aristocracy, and were just as easily deposed and replaced by others. (If that wasn't possible, a little arsenic in the tea could always solve the problem.)

       Modern politics are no different: Being a leader means having to make difficult judgments or being tempted to give in to popular pressure to ensure future support in elections. The very essence of leadership is to make decisions, sometimes on the spot, that will have far-reaching repercussions. Sometimes a leader will be faced with doing things that are deeply unpopular with parts or large segments of his or her people-and that nevertheless seem necessary. Sometimes, only time will tell if certain decisions were right or not. A ruler will make mistakes; the question is not "if," the question is "when." Thus, for a whole series of reasons, a political leader was more exposed to temptation and error than a priest or biblical judge, who weren't answerable to the people.......

       Parashat Va-yikra shows us an approach to leadership that acknowledges the difficult task of leadership. A ruler will occasionally make mistakes, but as long as he or she is subject to honest critique and scrutiny where decisions are constantly measured against the rules of law and the demands of conscience, that is tolerable. What matters is not that leaders never get it wrong, but that they are reminded of ethical standards and ultimate aims. The most important thing from a Torah perspective is for a leader to be sufficiently honest to admit his or her mistakes-hence the significance of the sin offering.

       The Gemara in Horayot 10b cites a beraita in the name of Rabbi Yohanan ben Zakkai on "asher nasi yihate" (when a ruler will sin): Rabbi Yohanan ben Zakkai said, "Fortunate (ashrei) is the generation whose ruler brings a sin sacrifice (korban) for a sin he has committed unintentionally."

       True leadership, both in the political realm of democratic society as well as in religious communal leadership, demands two kinds of courage: the strength to sometimes take a risk, and the humility to admit a mistake.