Parshas Tetzaveh
The oil to be used for the Menorah had to be clear without sediments. It was taken from the first drop of the olive. The Menorah, symbolizes the light of the Torah. The Torah lights up the world. The world does not enlighten the Torah. If there seems to us to be a contradiction between what the world believes or what science proves on the one hand and what the Torah tells us on the other hand, it is because we have allowed impure sediments to infiltrate our minds. The Torah is the Rebbe, not the outside world.
The olive must be kasis lama’or, crushed for light (27:20). The word kasis comes from the words “Haskes u’shema” (Devarim 27:9) – be quiet and listen (Rashi to Berachos 63b). Don’t let our preconceived ideas shaped by society block the words of the Torah. Allow silence to absorb His words, process them in their purity and only then ask questions. Questions emanating from an impartial, open mind will be very different from those arising out of a brain cluttered with contemporary wisdom. According to science, the light of the Menorah should burn only as long as the amount of oil poured into it dictates. The light of the Torah and the Jews who disseminate it should have faded into darkness eons ago. But the light of the Torah and the existence of its standard bearers survive beyond their earthly allocated time. There is no logical explanation for this and there doesn’t have to be one. Some questions are better left unanswered and just lived with, in humility.
Make sacred garments for Aharon the High Priest lekavod u’letiferes, for honor and radiance (28:2). Honor is external. It is something others give you. Radiance is internal. It shines from one’s inside and illuminates others. Sacred clothes on unsacred people, work for a fancy dress party. But in life, it is not the clothes that make the person; it is the person who makes the clothes. That is the meaning of the extra word “tiferes.” It is like the story of the Rebbe and the shammes who were traveling together on a long journey and shared the same room at night in an inn along the way. Before going to sleep, the Rebbe warned the shammes to be careful not to wake him when he gets up in the wee hours of the morning to ready the horse and buggy for the next day’s travel. So before dawn, the shammes fumbled around in the dark and inadvertently donned the Rebbe’s clothes. As he flew down the stairs of the inn headed for the stables, he caught sight of his reflection in the hall mirror. Startled he cried, “Oh dear, I woke up the Rebbe.”
One of the garments that the Kohen Gadol wore on top of his robe, the Me’il, was an apron-like garment worn back to front, called the Ephod, onto which the Choshen Mishpat, the breastplate was fastened. These priestly garments, like the korbanot themselves, were designed to atone for the sins of Israel (Zevachim 88b). The Ephod, which was a garment worn not only by the Kohen Gadol, but also by idolatrous priests of the time, atoned for the sin of idol worship. The message of the Ephod was that there is only one G-d.
The Choshen Mishpat atoned for miscarriages of justice. It was fastened so tightly that it would never stray from the Ephod (28:28). On the shoulder straps of the Ephod to which the Choshen Mishpat was tied, two Shoham (onyx stones) were embedded on which the names of the twelve tribes were engraved (28:9). There was a dual message to this. First, it should be understood that the Jewish laws of business disputes which the Choshen Mishpat addresses are not a self-contained, secular code of law, divorced from the rest of the Torah. They are part and parcel of the fabric of belief in one G-d, just like the laws of kashrut in Yoreh De’ah, the laws of Shabbat in Orach Chaim and the laws of marriage and divorce in Even HaEzer. Cheating in business, eating non-kosher food and transgressing the Shabbat are all violations of G-d’s law.
Second, a litigant must understand that whatever decision is handed down by the dayanim in his business dispute, whether in his favor or against him, comes from G-d who speaks through the mouths of the dayanim. After all, we say “Elokim nitzav be’adat Kel” – G-d stands in court and judges with the judges (Tehillim 82:1). The Choshen Mishpat is tied to the Eternal Judge who never gets it wrong. Reuven may litigate with Shimon and Shimon may sue Levi as we find throughout the Gemara. But ultimately, all of the twelve tribes, no matter what their internal squabbles might be, must accept the decision of the honest dayanim, because it is G-d’s decision.
The Me’il on which the Ephod and the Choshen Mishpat were worn was made of techelet – pure blue wool, adorned with 36 bells and pomegranates arranged in alternate succession on the hem of the robe (28:34). The Me’il atoned for the sin of lashon hara. The color of the Me’il was blue like the sky, above which G-d resides. Everything we have in life is allocated to us in advance. As Ben Zoma said, they will call you by name, they will put you in your place and they will give you what is yours. So what’s the point of denigrating someone else if all of one’s success comes from G-d anyway? To put someone down in order to elevate oneself and become more successful than the other shows a disbelief in a fundamental tenet of Judaism which insists that all achievement comes from Heaven. Any slanderous talk stains this heavenly blue garment. By looking at the pure blue robe of the Kohen Gadol, one is reminded that everyone’s reputation must be kept as clean as the skies. It is this very reminder that atones for the sin of slander.
The bells on the Me’il that rang as the Kohen Gadol walked about were there to drown out the noise of lashon hara. The pomegranates whose pips signify the 613 mitzvot reminded one that if one busies oneself with the essence of the mitzvot, namely to love one’s neighbor as oneself, one will never come to speak lashon hara.