When Leah had her third child, she explained, “Hapa’am yilave ishi eilai – This time my husband will walk alongside of me.” And the Torah concludes, “Al kein, kara sh’mo Levi – Therefore, she called her son Levi (which means to escort).”
Rashi makes a fascinating comment about the words al kein. He remarks that the word kein usually denotes a massive population. This is problematic when used in reference to the tribe of Levi since Shevet Levi had the smallest population census of all the tribes. Rashi solves this problem by teaching us that the tribe of Levi would have been a massive one but for one thing. Its job was to take care of the sacred vessels of the Beis HaMikdash. This duty was a highly dangerous one since inadvertent disrespect to the sacred vessels carried the penalty of misa b’dei shamayim, death at the hands of Heaven. Thus, Rashi concludes that the tribe was few in number because the, “Aron mechalei osam – The Divine Ark consumed many of them.”
Indeed, it was this very scare that caused Eisav to reject the service of G-d. When Yaakov proposed to his brother Eisav, “Michra kaiyom es bechorascha li – Sell as today the firstborn rights to me,” the commentators explain that Yaakov’s emphasis on the word kaiyom, today, was to reassure Eisav that Yaakov was not interested in the future inheritance rights of the firstborn. Rather, he wanted the more immediate privilege of serving Hashem by offering sacrifices, which was the privilege of the firstborn.
Eisav declared, “Hinei anochi holeich lamus, v’lama zeh li bechorah – Behold I am going to die. Why would I want the firstborn rights?” Rashi explains that Eisav’s reservation sprung from the fact that he knew the job of ministering to G-d was fraught with danger. Being involved in sacred activities is highly volatile. If you serve while intoxicated, improperly dressed, or perform in the wrong order, it could have lethal repercussions. Eisav concluded that the rewards were not worth the risk.
The considerable amount of danger that is engendered by being in proximity to holiness is not simply a matter of historic interest. Rather, it pertains to every observant Jew in a very real way, every day of our lives. This is because whenever we go to shul, we go to a place of great kedusha, holiness. As such, the aforementioned equation, that kedusha brings along with it a possibility of danger, is very applicable to shul. The Kitzur Shulchan Orech teaches us that the verse, “Es Mikdashi tira’u – You should be fearful in My Temple,” applies also to the mikdash me’at, the minor sanctuaries, which are our synagogues and our study halls. And the meaning of the directive “to be fearful” not only means to be mindful of G-d’s presence, but it also embraces having a healthy fear of the dangers we mentioned above when one might act with irreverence toward the sacred atmosphere of these holy places.
One might wonder, what exactly does it mean to have a sense of fear when entering a synagogue? Let me give you a contemporary parallel. When one walks into a library, there is a hush in the room. One will instinctively “Sshh!” their children if they become unruly. Now, let’s consider what is under the roof of a library? The “lofty” works of John Grisham and Stephen King? If one is accustomed to feel this way upon entering a library, then we should definitely train ourselves to achieve at least such a feeling upon entering the home of our holy Sifrei Torah, the great treasure of our lives, the blueprint of Creation, the Divine writings of the King of kings. Similarly, when one enters a court session in process, especially if it would be chambers of the Supreme Court, one would be naturally instilled with a sense of reverence. Surely then, this should be felt when we enter our shul where people pray for their health and the health of their loved ones, their livelihood and their happiness.
Many people mistakenly think that the merit of going to shul, putting in the effort to say the many prayers, listening to the Torah reading and the rabbi’s sermon, will cancel out and counteract any misbehavior such as talking during kaddish, the chazzan’s recitation of the Shemone Esrei, or during the reading of the Torah. This can be a fatal blunder. Shevet Levi’s handling of the Aron and the sacred vessels did not protect them when they slipped up in the proper respect and reverence owed to their holy charges.
In a similar vein, the fact that we are doing the mitzvah of going to shul and davening, etc., will not protect us from the grave sin of chatting or acting with levity in Hashem’s House of worship. This attitude of “Es Mikdashi tira’u,” to feel a sense of fear and reverence upon entering shul, needs to be cultivated and it is of lifesaving importance to inculcate this attitude to our children.
The Shulchan Aruch doesn’t mince words when it informs us that one who talks improperly in shul is a chotei, a sinner, “V’gadol avono minso – And his sin is too heavy to bear.” Yes, this is borrowed phraseology from when Kayin murdered his brother. We are not talking about some chumra or some gabbai’s shtick – this is very grave stuff! On the other hand, we are taught a nifty acronym: The word seivah, hoary old age, spelled sin yud veis hei, stands for, “Shtika yafa b’shas hatefila – Silence is worthy during prayer!”
May it be the will of Hashem that we withstand the temptations of acting in a cavalier manner when we are in shul and in that merit may Hashem bless us with long life, good health, and everything wonderful.
Transcribed and edited by Shelley Zeitlin.