As we learn of the construction of the Mishkan in the parsha, we will continue to examine Ramchal’s book Mishkenei Elyon studying the structure of the third Beit HaMikdash. As we saw at the beginning of our journey together, it takes a little bit of finesse to get the book to match up with the parsha because there are profound differences between the Mishkan and the three Batei HaMikdash.
Perhaps that will be more true this week than in past weeks because this Shabbat is also Shabbat Parah, when we learn of the ritual of the parah adumah, the red heifer, and this – uniquely and dramatically – is always done off the Temple Mount. This is consistent with the edict of the Torah, “You shall remove it outside of the camp and slaughter it there in front of him [the Kohen Gadol]” (Bamidbar 19:3). As such, the connection between the text of Mishkenei Elyon and the special reading of this week will be principally found in the gap separating them – but this, too, is appropriate to the spirit of the parah adumah. Indeed, it is well known that the parah adumah exemplifies the gaps in our knowledge, of which Shlomo HaMelech, the wisest man who ever lived, said, “I have grown wise but it is beyond me” (Kohelet 7:23, following Bamidbar Rabba 19:3).
Ramchal teaches that although the Kohen officiates in the offering of korbanot, the three groupings of Israel are all essential to the effective completion of the service in the Beit HaMikdash. As he explains, the Kohen offers the sacrifice; the Levi accompanies in song, imbuing the proceedings with Divine inspiration; and the Yisrael focuses his (or her) intent on the performance of the mitzvah. And due to the configuration of the courtyards, the azarot, there are both men and women included in this focusing of intent.
These three groupings of participants in the mitzvah correspond to three components of the sacrificial animal: The organs and the fatty tissue that are forbidden to be eaten and burned on the mizbe’ach correspond to the unique qualities of the Kohanim. The blood that must be sprinkled on the walls of the mizbe’ach signifies Divine judgment and so refers to the Levi’im. The spirit of life that animates the animal represents the Torah and mitzvot of Yisrael. The service in the Beit HaMikdash can only be successfully completed when all these forces are working in conjunction. When that happens, the body of the animal in all its aspects is transformed by the sacred fire into pure spirit, manifesting the spirit of Israel as we have seen, and this rises to Heaven to greet the Divine spirit in the column of smoke above the whole assemblage.
We also learn in the Mishna (Zevachim 5, chiefly) of different areas of the courtyard of the Beit HaMikdash where various korbanot were slaughtered, based on the relative sanctity of the sacrifice and also the aspects of the Divine and of our own individual and collective souls that are serviced by the korban. The nuances of this geometry are too involved to flesh out here, but the principle usually derives from the relative positions of right and left from a given perspective, signifying the Divine aspects of mercy and judgment. Thus, Ramchal emphasizes that the city of Yerushalayim (i.e., the “City of David”) extended to the South, or to the right of the Temple Mount, enabling the Temple itself to mitigate the misfortune that has a tendency to come from the north or the left side.
As we have already seen, the ritual of the parah adumah seems to deviate from all these principles. The heifer is slaughtered and burned altogether outside of the Temple complex, so at first glance the prevailing geometry seems not to apply. The entire body of the animal is consumed by flame – it’s only the ashes that are of use to us. These aspects of the practical performance of the ritual seem integrally bound up with the paradox, leading the wise to despair of comprehending the meaning of this mitzvah. But at the same time, as the heifer is slaughtered to the east of the Beit HaMikdash, it is to our right, signifying mercy, as we face the Temple gazing up from the city stretching southward. Also, in the total immolation of the heifer, all the components without exception are integrated and unified, and the Sages also taught that on the vanishingly rare occasions when the parah adumah was slaughtered (only eight times until the present), all of Israel walked out on the bridges to the Mount of Olives to observe.
When the Kohen slaughtered the parah adumah, he would gaze back toward the Beit HaMikdash with a viewpoint that transited the several gates separating him from the inner sanctum, the Heichal, so that he could see inside the structure and concentrate on the Divine presence dwelling within as he performed the act. In the second Beit HaMikdash, the Eastern gate through which the Kohen’s gaze was directed was known as Shaar Shushan, the Shushan Gate, because upon its lintel was engraved an image of the skyline of Shushan (which also lay to the East). This is noteworthy, of course, as Purim falls every year a week or two before Shabbat Parah. In Shushan we merited to be saved from Haman and we affirmed and upheld the Oral Torah because we were able to unite together in common purpose.
Thus, we learn that for the Service in the Beit HaMikdash to be truly efficacious, it’s necessary for all of Israel to serve together of one mind in perfect unity, and we might also find in the ritual of the parah adumah specifically an exemplar of this unity and brotherhood. It is therefore fitting that we read of the parah adumah in the final weeks leading up to Pesach.
