Finding Our Inner Nobility

This week’s Torah portion is Tetzaveh, which means, Command. It contains the instructions for the Eternal light, the Ner Tamid, to be continually kindled in the menorah at night. God describes the design for the Priests’ Vestments, for glory and splendor. The specifications for an incense altar are given, as is the commandment not to offer any alien incense.

The costume of the High Priest contained red, blue, and purple wool, fine white linen, and real gold thread. On the priest’s woven breastplate were 12 precious stones, one for each of the 12 Tribes of Israel. The priest also wore a turban and a golden plate on his forehead which said, Holy to God. Moses was to inaugurate the priests during a seven day consecration ceremony. First they had to immerse themselves in water. Our custom of the Mikveh comes from this. We know that washing or bathing: water purification ceremonies, must be as old as humanity itself. It is almost certain that Baptism, the Christian ritual comes originally from this commandment in Tetzaveh. Of course, all the people who originally engaged in baptism were Jews, and any river is known to be a kosher mikveh. Then the priests would be dressed in their vestments. Only the High priest had the golden and jeweled garments. The other priests were dressed more simply. The priests confessed their sins and offered three sacrifices for each of seven days: a sin offering sacrifice, an elevation offering sacrifice, to draw closer to God, and a fulfillment or perfection sacrifice, the last one of which was eaten.

If we think of Aaron, Moses’ brother: he was a slave like anyone else. The Israelites were an assemblage of slaves: a sea of nobodies who had been beaten: beaten down, degraded, and forced to suffer. How was even one of them to be transformed into a glorious priest, a leader of the people? The holy garments can be understood as serving to convince Aaron, as well as convincing the other priests, and ultimately convincing the people of their own innate holiness. Rabbi Elimelech wrote, “When God said, Let there be light, a new light was brought into existence…from there the light was drawn down here below, but that light still remains rooted up above. This is the case with all things. Each thing was created by God so that its root remains above and so everything that happens here below is a result of our actions, which shake the roots above, so that those things can be drawn down here below.” This quotation is an attempt to explain the mechanism by which we are attached to our Root: attached to God. Since we are of God, of God’s light, and of God’s holiness, theoretically we can attain amazingly great things. The Psalmist said, “You are Gods, all of you, children of the most High (Ps 82:6).” Our reality is so different from this.

Our inner nobility is not what we often experience. As slaves in the wilderness, the priests were even farther away from nobility than we are. The S’fat Emet wrote, “Moses was called a man of God. All of Israel were supposed to attain that state.” The only thing that stood in the way of Aaron and the priests becoming holy were their own thoughts and opinions about themselves. How did they become holy? Water purification, dressing in a fine costume that elevated them and made them feel special; also following a set of instructions, given by God, and confessing their sins, which helped them to try to do better. Probably meditating on their actions was part of the 7 day inauguration ceremony, since they were prohibited from leaving the sacred area for that whole period of time. These are the same things that can help us to feel holy: being elevated through our dress; confessing sins, performing deeds of generosity and kindness, deepening our relationship to our own divinity through prayer and meditation.

Perhaps then, there is very little that stands between us and holiness: our lack of self esteem and lack of belief in ourselves being the most important one. Like Dorothy and her companions in Baum’s Wizard of Oz, who learned that they possessed all they needed to achieve what they desired, we too have within us all of the perfection of our higher selves. May we be drawn to express our inner holiness in every human interaction we have, through knowing that nobility, goodness, and a loving, giving nature is who we really are.

Drawing Down the Light

This week’s Torah portion is Vayigash, which means, “and he approached.” Joseph, viceroy of Egypt, had framed Benjamin, his youngest brother, in order to take him into custody and find out whether his brothers would abandon Benjamin, as they once abandoned him. As this portion opens, Judah, the fourth brother, who had promised their Father, Jacob, to return Benjamin unharmed, comes forward to plead for Benjamin’s freedom. When Joseph learns that his brothers love and support Benjamin, Joseph reveals his identity to them and forgives them. He then arranges to bring his father and his brothers’ families to Egypt so that they will be sustained during the continuing famine.

Judah’s speech to the Viceroy Joseph is said to be one of the most eloquent orations in the Torah. Judah begins by recounting the story of how they came to be in Egypt, standing before Joseph. Judah uses the word, father, 14 times in 17 verses, to arouse his pity. Joseph appears to be unmoved through much of the speech. Judah tells Joseph that their father would be devastated by the loss of Benjamin, the youngest son and Joseph’s only full brother, the only brother who was not a part of putting Joseph into the pit and planning to sell him. It is not until Judah pleads with Joseph to imprison him in Benjamin’s place, saying “Now therefore, I beg you, let your servant remain instead of the lad to be a slave to my lord; and let the lad go up with his brothers. For how shall I go up to my father, if the lad is not with me, lest I see the evil that shall befall my father.”(Gen 44: 33-4). Only then Joseph cries out and reveals himself to his brothers.

It was Judah’s compassion for his father and his being willing to suffer for the well being of his father and brother that moved Joseph so greatly. Judah’s act of nobility, his compassion, showed how much he had changed. In the book, Messengers of God, Elie Wiesel says: “One is not born a tzaddik. One must strive to become one, and having become a tzaddik, one must strive to remain one (P. 67-8). Judah had changed so greatly from the young man whose idea it was to sell Joseph. After experiencing the death of his wife and two eldest sons he almost had his daughter-in-Law, the pregnant Tamar burned, she who carried his own two additional children. His confession that he had not kept his promise to Tamar; his grief at his enormous losses, changed him into the man who stood before Joseph, able to sacrifice himself for his father and brother. Joseph, too, had changed so greatly, from the callous teenager who tattled on his big brothers, to the person who needs and wants his family and is willing to forgive them completely.

The Midrash quotes Proverbs, “Counsel is like deep water in the human heart. The wise one draws it forth (20:5).” The S’fat Emet speaks of drawing water as drawing new light from the heavenly root. This is our task: in uncertain times there is a deep well of wisdom that is available to us, working on our behalf if we, like Judah and Joseph, are able to draw the light from its heavenly root. Judah says in his speech, “If your youngest brother does not come down with you, you will not see my face again (43:5).” The Berdichever Rebbe interpreted this as: if you are not concerned for your brother, (understood as our neighbor), all our brothers and sisters, all those who we can have compassion for, we will not see God’s face.

There is a lovely story from the Talmud about a tzaddik: R. Abba was one day sitting at the gate of Lydda when he saw a man come and seat himself on a ledge overhanging the ground. Being weary from traveling, he fell asleep. R. Abba saw a snake glide up towards the man, but, before it reached him, a branch fell from a tree and killed it. The man then woke up, and catching sight of the snake in front of him stood up; and no sooner had he done so than the ledge gave way, and crashed into the hollow beneath it. R. Abba then approached him and said: ‘Tell me, what have you done that God should perform two miracles for you?’ The man replied: ‘Never did anyone do an injury to me but that I made peace with him and forgave him. Moreover, if I could not make peace with him, I did not retire to rest before I forgave him together with all those who vexed me; nor was I at any time concerned about the evil the man did me; nay more, from that day onward I exerted myself to show kindness to such a man.’ Tears came to R. Abba’s eyes and he said: ‘This man's deeds excel even those of Joseph; for Joseph showed forbearance towards his own brethren, upon whom it was natural for him to have compassion; but this man did more, and it was thus befitting that the Holy One should work for him one miracle upon another (Zohar I:201b).

Our caring, our compassion for each other is priceless in the Universe, priceless to God. Our forgiveness is crucial to our growth and our own being forgiven. May we strive to find that center of caring and compassion in ourselves that draws down the light and love and compassion of the world. May we become greater than we are, more blessed than we can imagine.