PARASHAT TETZAVEH

By Rav David Silverberg

            The first section of Parashat Tetzaveh describes the bigdei kehuna, the various garments worn by the kohanim.  The “uniform” worn by the kohen gadol included the choshen, the breastplate upon which the names of the twelve tribes were engraved.  By wearing the choshen, the kohen gadol ensured that the names of the tribes would be upon him as he performed the service in the Mishkan: “Aharon shall thus carry the names of the Israelites on the breastplate of justice, upon his heart, when he enters the sanctuary, as an eternal remembrance before the Lord” (28:29).

            The Gemara in Masekhet Shabbat (139a) associates the choshen with an incident that occurred earlier in Sefer Shemot (4:14), when Moshe returned to Egypt after an extended stay in Midyan.  After God instructed Moshe at the burning bush to return to Egypt, He informed him that his brother, Aharon, would exuberantly greet him upon his arrival.  Chazal understood this to mean that Aharon rejoiced in his younger brother’s prominence, the mantle of leadership that he had just received.  Despite being the older brother, Aharon felt no resentment toward Moshe’s position as prophet and leader, and, to the contrary, sincerely delighted in his brother’s success.  The Gemara comments that Aharon’s response to Moshe’s rise to prominence is what rendered him worthy of wearing the choshen upon his chest while officiating as kohen gadol.

            As mentioned, the purpose of the choshen was to demonstrate the kohen gadol’s role as representative of the nation.  By bearing the names of the twelve tribes upon his heart at all times as he officiated in the Mishkan, the kohen gadol made it clear that he performed the service not for himself, but rather on behalf of all Am Yisrael.  He is their delegate, serving and praying to the Almighty on their behalf.

            This representative role can be fulfilled only by somebody who exhibits the kind of selfless love for other people that Aharon displayed.  The kohen gadol was required to ignore his own personal importance, and see himself as only a representative.  He had to officiate in the Mishkan not as an individual, but as the embodiment of an entire nation.  As an example of this kind of mindset, Chazal pointed to Aharon’s celebration of his younger brother’s success.  Aharon’s response demonstrated the quality of selflessness that the high priesthood demanded, the concern for the needs and honor of other people rather than for only oneself.

            Rav Avraham Pam (see Rav Shalom Smith’s Shabbos With Rav Pam, Parashat Tetzaveh) noted in this context the significance of the fact that Aharon displayed this kind of selflessness specifically toward his brother.  The family unit is especially vulnerable to envy and ruthless competition.  It is natural for siblings to rival with one another and seek to outdo each other.  This tendency made Aharon’s response all the more impressive – and hence paradigmatic of the kind of selfless care for others that Chazal here seek to describe.  Very often, the greatest tests and challenges to one’s character are confronted in the home, among family members.  It was thus specifically Aharon’s humble sensitivity to his brother that rendered him worthy and qualified for the prestigious position of the high priesthood, which allowed no room for egotism or jealousy.

*******

            Toward the beginning of Parashat Tetzaveh, God instructs Moshe to summon skilled artisans to make the bigdei kehuna – the special garments worn by the kohanim.  God tells Moshe, “And they [the artisans] shall take the gold and the blue and purple dyes…” (28:5). 

The Torah does not clarify from whom the artisans should take the raw materials with which to produce the priestly vestments.  Rashi explains that this verse refers to the donors.  Quite simply, the artisans would receive the materials brought by the nation’s donors and use them for fashioning the bigdei kehuna.  Chizkuni and Rabbenu Yosef Bekhor Shor also follow this approach, adding that this is specifically intended to emphasize that the bigdei kehuna, like everything else associated with the Mishkan, were made from the people’s donations.  Benei Yisrael might have thought that Aharon and his sons should pay for their own garments.  God therefore instructed that the artisans should receive the materials from the public funds, just as they did for constructing the Mishkan and its appurtenances.

Rav Yaakov Mecklenberg, in his Ha-ketav Ve-ha’kabbala, claims that Targum Yonatan read this verse differently.  Targum Yonatan translates this verse as, “And they shall take from their money the gold…”  Rav Mecklenberg understood from this translation that the bigdei kehuna were to be funded by Aharon and his sons themselves.  Unlike the Mishkan and its furnishings, the priestly garments were paid for not with public donations, but rather with the kohanim’s own money.  The Ahavat Yonatan commentary to Targum Yonatan (as cited in Torah Sheleima, note 34) dismissed this reading, and claimed that according to Targum Yonatan, too, the materials for the bigdei kehuna came from the public treasury.  This is, indeed, the widely accepted view.

Rav Levi Yitzchak of Berditchev, in his Kedushat Levi, notes the significance of the fact that the kohanim wore lavish garments donated by Benei Yisrael.  This ensured that the kohanim would feel a sense of gratitude and respect toward the people they represent while working in the Mishkan.  As we discussed yesterday, it was imperative for the kohanim (and especially the kohen gadol) to approach their work with the mindset of emissaries, as representatives of the people, as opposed to lone individuals.  Their work benefited the entire nation, and they were to go about their duties with all the people in mind.  (This resembles the halakha that a kohen should not recite birkat kohanim if he feels animosity toward somebody in the synagogue; see Mishna Berura 128:37).  God therefore wanted to ensure that the kohanim would feel genuine respect and admiration for the people as they served in the Mishkan, and for this reason He instructed that the people should purchase the kohanim’s beautiful vestments, for which the kohanim would feel grateful and indebted.

            Chazal teach that aside from the kohanim’s duties in the Mikdash, they also served as the nation’s teachers and rabbis.  Public service is often thankless and exposes loyal public servants to the complaints, criticisms and mockery of the community members they genuinely wish to assist.  Many kohanim would thus naturally feel a degree of resentment toward certain members, or perhaps even entire communities, among Benei Yisrael.  The priestly garments were intended to help the kohanim overcome these feelings and officiate with sincere love, care and concern for all members of the nation, without exception.  In this sense they perhaps set a demanding standard for future public servants to follow, calling upon them to continue respecting and caring for the community they serve despite the unpleasant encounters that their work often entails.

*******

            The haftara for Shabbat Zakhor (the Shabbat preceding Purim) is taken from Sefer Shemuel I (chapter 15), and tells the story of the battle waged by King Shaul, the first Israelite king, against the nation of Amalek.  In Sefer Devarim (25:19), the Torah commands Benei Yisrael that after they capture the Land of Israel and secure its borders, they must wage war against and eradicate the Amalekite people.  King Shaul led Benei Yisrael to victory against the threatening nations on all the country’s borders (see Shemuel I 14:47-48), and thus the time came for Benei Yisrael to battle Amalek.  In the opening verses of this haftara, the prophet Shemuel approaches King Shaul and conveys God’s command to destroy the entire nation of Amalek, including its animals.

            Shaul obeys the prophet’s instruction, though not completely, sparing the Amalekite king and the nation’s cattle.  God reacts harshly to this infraction, and sends Shemuel to tell Shaul that his kingship will not endure, as he failed to obey God’s command.  Shemuel approaches Shaul, who initially attempts to defend his actions: “I indeed obeyed the voice of the Lord and went along the path on which the Lord sent me.  I brought Aggag, king of Amalek, and I destroyed Amalek.  The people took from the spoils – sheep and cattle, the choicest of the booty – to sacrifice to the Lord your God in Gilgal” (15:20-21).  Shaul defends the decision to spare the cattle on the grounds that this was done for the purpose of offering sacrifices to God.

            The prophet responds by noting the absurdity of this argument: “Does the Lord desire burnt offerings and sacrifices, as much as obeying the voice of the Lord?  For obedience is greater than a good sacrifice, to hearken – than the fat of rams!”

            Shemuel here expresses a fundamental precept which, while seemingly obvious, was apparently overlooked by Shaul, or by the people under his charge.  Namely, one cannot serve God by disobeying His laws.  The notion of violating God’s command to kill Amalek’s cattle in order to bring Him sacrifices bespeaks a basic misunderstanding of avodat Hashem.  It transforms religious observance from an expression of submission and subservience, to a kind of cultic series of rituals which is afforded intrinsic, magical significance and power.  Once God’s command is taken out of the equation, the individual avows his faith in forces other than the Almighty, in some independent spiritual power to which he wishes to resort.  For good reason, in the next verse Shemuel likens betraying God to sorcery and witchcraft: “For rebellion is like the sin of divination, defiance, like iniquity and terafim [articles of witchcraft].”  The moment a person tries to perform a “religious act” in defiance of God, he essentially resorts to witchcraft, recognizing spiritual powers outside the range of God’s control.

            This incident thus reminds us that avodat Hashem means exactly that – “serving God” by observing His commands, and not by performing random acts which give an outward appearance of religious ritual.

********

            Much of Parashat Tetzaveh is devoted to the bigdei kehuna, the special garments worn by the kohanim as they performed the rituals in the Mishkan.  The kohen gadol wore a number of garments that were not worn by ordinary kohanim, including the choshen, or breastplate, which contained twelve precious stones upon which the names of the twelve tribes were engraved.  The Torah instructs that the choshen must be firmly attached to the efod, the apron worn by the kohen gadol.  The verses describe at length the threads that were affixed to the corners of the choshen and the straps of the efod, which held the choshen in place, firmly attached to the efod (“ve-lo yizach ha-choshen mei-al ha-eifod” – 28:28).  The Gemara (Yoma 72a) comments that one who removes the choshen from its place, such that it is not firmly connected to the efod, transgresses a Torah prohibition.

            A number of writers sought to identify the symbolic significance of this halakha, requiring that the choshen be firmly girded to the efod.  Rav Moshe Feinstein (cited in Kol Ram) suggested that this requirement represents the unbreakable bond between the two basic categories of Torah law – the interpersonal laws, and one’s responsibilities toward God.  The Gemara (Zevachim 88b) views the choshen as a means of atonement for ivut ha-mishpat – the corruption of justice, errors made in legal settings.  This article may thus be seen as symbolic of the area of bein adam la-chaveiro – our duties to our fellow Jews.  The efod, the Gemara comments, serves to atone for idolatry, the archetypical expression of betrayal of God, and this garment therefore represents the realm of bein adam la-Makom – laws governing the human being’s relationship with God.  By commanding that the choshen be firmly fastened to the efod, the Torah perhaps alludes to the indispensability of both elements, that one cannot consider himself truly Torah observant unless he succeeds in combining these two loyalties – to his fellow human beings and to the Almighty.

            Rav Menachem Benzion Zaks, in his Menachem Tziyon, suggests a different explanation.  He notes that an apron is normally worn while performing work, such as in an agricultural field, kitchen or factory.  As such, the kohen gadol’s efod may very well symbolize the value of derekh eretz, working for livelihood.  The choshen, by contrast, contained the Urim Ve-tumim – identified by many as a script containing the divine Name, which served as an oracle of sorts as certain letters would shine when the kohen gadol posed a question.  The choshen is thus a garment that we would certainly categorize as something “spiritual,” symbolizing the realm of inherently religious experience.  The close bond between the choshen and the efod might therefore symbolize the importance of synthesizing one’s religious and professional life, ensuring that one’s religious responsibilities do not lead to a neglect of his basic “worldly” responsibilities, while at the same time maintaining high religious standards even while working to secure a livelihood.

            We might also suggest, quite simply, that the focal point of this halakha is not the connection between the choshen and the efod per se, but rather ensuring that the choshen be securely positioned upon the kohen’s heart.  The choshen, which contained the names of the tribes, had to be firmly set in place so that it remained at all times directly upon the kohen’s heart, as a constant reminder of his role as the representative of the people.  Indeed, immediately after instructing that the choshen be fastened to the efod, the Torah writes, “Aharon shall carry the names of the Israelites on the choshen of justice upon his heart when he enters the sanctuary, as a constant remembrance before the Lord” (28:29).  Securing the choshen in place results in its constantly be situated upon the kohen gadol’s heart, symbolic of his need to be forever mindful of his constituents while officiating in the Mishkan.  Removing the choshen from its place constitutes a Torah prohibition because symbolically, it represents the possibility of the kohen gadol serving without the people in mind.

The kohen gadol must always remember that he serves not as a lone individual, but rather as the representative of the people, and therefore the names of the tribes must remain upon his heart at all times – and never be moved from their place, even for an instant.

*******

            Parashat Tetzaveh describes the procedure of the milu’im, the formal consecration of Aharon and his sons as kohanim.  This procedure entailed the offering of special sacrifices, and Aharon and his sons were commanded to partake of these sacrifices (29:32).  God explains to Moshe that the kohanim’s partaking of the sacrifices was an essential component of the process whereby they become consecrated for their role: “They shall partake of them [the sacrificial meat and bread] through which they earn atonement, in order to consecrate them, to sanctify them…” (29:33).

            The Meshekh Chokhma notes a subtle distinction between this verse and earlier instances in this parasha where the kohanim’s role is described.  Here, God mentions “le-kadesh otam” – “to sanctify them.”  Earlier, however, after issuing the command to fashion the priestly garments, God says that by having the kohanim wear these garments, Moshe will “sanctify them, and they shall serve Me [ve-khihanu li]” (28:41).  In this context, God speaks of “sanctification” as well as “serving” – “ve-khihanu li.”  Likewise, the special garments of the kohen gadol served “to sanctify him, to make him a kohen to Me [le-khahen li]” (28:3).  And when God introduces the concept of the milu’im, He says that the function of this ceremony is “to sanctify them, so that they serve Me” (29:1).  In all these contexts, God speaks of the kohanim’s stature of sanctity (“kedusha”), as well as of their function “le-khahen” – to serve before God in the Mishkan.  Curiously, however, when explaining command that the kohanim partake of the milu’im sacrifices, God mentions only the aspect of kedusha, omitting any reference to their role le-khahen, to officiate in the sanctuary.

            The Meshekh Chokhma explains that the kohanim’s partaking of the milu’im sacrifices served the specific function of consecrating them for akhilat kodashim – the privileges of eating sacrificial meat and bread.  The priestly vestments, by contrast, related to the entire stature of the kehuna, which includes the role of ministering in the Mishkan.  The difference between these two aspects of the priesthood is manifest in the case of a ba’al mum, a kohen with a physical defect that disqualifies him from officiating in the Mishkan.  Despite this disqualification, a ba’al mum nevertheless receives an equal share of the kodashim (sacrificial food) with the other kohanim.  The partaking of the milu’im thus related to the concept of le-kadesh – sanctifying the kohanim, in that they could partake of the sacred food – but not to the concept of le-khahen – serving in the Mishkan.  It sanctified all the kohanim, including those with physical defects who could not perform the rituals, granting them the privileges to partake of kodashim.  This is in contrast to the earlier contexts, which addressed the consecration of the kohanim also for the purpose of le-khahen, serving in the Mishkan.

            This insight underscores the ability of even a ba’al mum to become “kadosh,” particularly in the sense of partaking of the sacrifices.  Not all people are given the privilege of “officiating,” of performing the special rituals and joining the spiritual leadership.  But as in the case of the ba’al mum, the restrictions imposed on the role of “le-khahen” most certainly does not undermine the possibility granted to all people to achieve the stature of kedusha, of living a life of holiness and virtue.  As in the case of a ba’al mum, “sanctity” can be attained by “eating,” even through mundane activities, if they are performed with the mindset and in the manner of kedusha.  In short, one does not have to fill the role of “le-khahen” to realize the goal of “le-kadesh”; even those who cannot, for whatever reason, function as religious leaders in a formal capacity have the opportunity – and the responsibility – to aspire to kedusha.

*******

            We read in Parashat Tetzaveh of the special milu’im sacrifices offered by Aharon and his sons whereby they became formally consecrated for the role of kohanim.  God instructs Moshe concerning these sacrifices, “If some of the milu’im meat or bread in the basket is left over until morning, you shall burn the leftovers by fire; it shall not be eaten, for it is sacred” (29:34).  This prohibition that God issued, forbidding the consumption of leftover food from the milu’im offerings, resembles the familiar halakha of notar (“leftover”) which applies to all sacrifices.  Every sacrifice has a “deadline” past which its meat becomes notar and thus forbidden for consumption.

            Interestingly, however, the Meshekh Chokhma notes a significant distinction between the standard concept of notar and the law as it applied to the milu’im.  Generally, the Torah forbids leaving sacrificial meat over past its final time for consumption.  Besides the prohibition to partake of notar, it is also forbidden to knowingly allow sacrificial food to become notar.  In the case of the milu’im, by contrast, the Torah writes, “If some of the…meat…is left over until morning…it shall not be eaten.”  The Torah very clearly does not forbid the kohanim from leaving the sacrificial over until the next morning.  It forbids eating the food the next day, but does not impose upon the kohanim the responsibility of completing all the food by morning, as it does with regard to other sacrifices.

            The Meshekh Chokhma suggests a very simple explanation for this distinction.  The milu’im offerings were permissible only for Aharon and his four sons, while other sacrifices were allowed for consumption by larger groups of people.  Shelamim sacrifices, for example, could be eaten by anybody (provided they were tahor), and other kodashim were distributed among all the kohanim.  The milu’im offerings were brought only once in history, during the seven days of consecration, when only four kohanim were in existence.  Four men could not reasonably consume in a single night all the meat and bread that comprised the milu’im sacrifice, and God certainly would not demand akhila gasa (overeating) in preparing the kohanim for their role.  For this reason, then, there was no prohibition issued against leaving milu’im food over until the next morning.

            The Meshekh Chokhma then adds another reason for this distinction.  A number of sources relate that during the seven-day period of the milu’im, the Mishkan was erected and then disassembled each day.  Tosefot in Masekhet Avoda Zara (34a) cite Rabbenu Yaakov of Orleans as claiming that the daily disassembly of the Mishkan affected the halakhic status of the site during that period.  Namely, the site of the Mishkan during these seven days had the status of a bama – a personal area of sacrificial worship, which the Torah allowed under certain circumstances.  When sacrificing is allowed on a private bama, the laws governing such sacrifices do not always precisely correspond to the laws that govern sacrifices in the Mishkan and Beit Ha-mikdash.  The Meshekh Chokhma therefore suggests that the laws of notar might apply differently in a bama then at the site of the Mishkan, such that it is permissible to leave meat over past its “deadline” when sacrificing at a bama.  Therefore, the prohibition against leaving over sacrificial food did not apply to the milu’im offerings, which were brought when the site of the Mishkan had the status of a bama.

            The Meshekh Chokhma adds a third suggestion, as well.  The Talmud Yerushalmi (Yoma 1:1) tells that Aharon and his sons were allowed to eat the food of the milu’im offerings only until the Mishkan was disassembled.  God specifically commanded that the food be eaten at the entrance of the Mishkan (29:32), and therefore once the Mishkan was taken down, they could no longer partake of the food.  It stands to reason, the Meshekh Chokhma contends, that the prohibition against leaving sacrificial food over past its “deadline” applies only when one has the halakhic opportunity to partake of the food throughout the period until the “deadline.”  In the case of the milu’im, however, Aharon and his sons were given such a small window of time in which to partake of the sacrifices that God could not require them to complete the food before it became notar.

*******

            The Shoshanat Yaakov hymn traditionally recited after the Megila reading on Purim speaks of the immense joy experienced by the Jews of Shushan “when together they saw the tekhelet of Mordekhai.”  This passage undoubtedly refers to the verse in the Megila (8:15) which describes the royal garments with which Mordekhai was adorned after Haman’s execution, when Mordekhai assumed Haman’s role as vizier.  Tekhelet, a blue dye more commonly associated with tzitzit, is among the materials listed in this verse as comprising Mordekhai’s royal garb.

            The obvious question arises as to why the author of Shoshanat Yaakov found the tekhelet worn by Mordekhai worthy of emphasis as the source of the Jews’ celebration in the wake of Haman’s sudden downfall.

            Rav Baruch Yitzchak Yissachar Leventhal, in his work Birkat Yitzchak (Jerusalem, 1946), associates the tekhelet with one of the prominent themes of Purim – the concealed, mysterious nature of divine providence.  He develops this association by examining one aspect of tzitzit, where tekhelet of course plays a seminal role.  Rashi, in his Torah commentary (Bamidbar 15:38), interprets the word “tzitzit” as a derivative the verb tz.tz. – “peer.”  He cites as a proof-text a verse in Shir Hashirim (2:9) which describes the dod (lover) – symbolic of the Almighty – as “meitzitz min ha-charakim” – “peering through the holes.”  The strings of the tzitzit, the Birkat Yitzchak suggests, represent the veiled manner in which God governs the world, the way He “peers” at the world from behind the curtain of nature.  These strings include one tekhelet thread, whose color is reminiscent of the heavens, and which thus symbolizes revelation, our ability to view the Almighty.  The blue thread is meshed among a majority of white thread, such that it cannot be easily seen.  Our view of the Almighty is obscured by the predominance of the “white threads,” the natural order, which appears to run independently outside the control of any Supreme Being.  But we believe, of course, that God constantly “peers through the holes” and governs world events, regardless how concealed His presence and authority usually are from our view.

            In this sense, perhaps, the tekhelet indeed assumes great significance in the context of the Purim story, the quintessential example of God’s hidden providence.  Among all the materials that comprised Mordekhai’s royal uniform, the tekhelet stands out as an especially meaningful symbol of the miracle that had transpired.  The Jews of Shushan beheld “tekhelet Mordekhai,” the divine revelation – symbolized by the tekhelet – that was manifest through Mordekhai’s sudden rise from the gallows to royal authority, and the instant salvation the Jews had experienced.  Their experiences helped reveal the tekhelet string peering through the white strings, offering them a view of God’s providence through the veil of the natural order.