Between Ecstasy and Constancy: The Dynamics of Covenantal Commitment Rabbi Shai Held In memoriam Herbert Wechselblatt (1935-2015) Rabbinic interpretation of parashat Tetzaveh paints a powerful portrait of covenantal mutuality of God s commitment to Israel and Israel s commitment to God. But it also claims, crucially, that covenantal mutuality depends less on ecstasy than on constancy. Covenant thrives, ultimately, less on high drama than on the day-to-day commitment to living with God. 1 As parashat Tetzaveh opens, God instructs Moses: You shall further command the Israelites to bring you clear oil of beaten olives for lighting, for kindling lamps perpetually (le-ha alot ner tamid) (Exodus 27:20). Traditional commentators disagree over the meaning of the word perpetually (tamid). Rashi (1040-1105) understands it to mean that the lamps must be lit every evening and stay aflame until morning. But a midrash insists that perpetually means Covenantal mutuality depends less on ecstasy than on constancy. that one lamp, the western light (ner ma aravi), 2 is to burn constantly, day as well as 1 Cf. what I have written about the the dynamics of covenantal living in Covenantal Joy: What Sukkot Can Teach Us, CJLI Parashat Emor 5774, available here. 2 The midrash likely builds on the similar sounds of mei-erev (from evening) and ma arav (west). 1
night; from this perpetually burning western light all the other lights are kindled each night (Sifre, Beha alotkha 59). 3 It is this latter approach that gives rise to the later custom of having a ner tamid, an eternal light, burning in the synagogue. What is odd about the midrash s position is that it seems to be directly contradicted by the very next verse: Aaron and his sons shall set [the lamps] up in the Tent of Meeting, outside the curtain which is over [the Ark of] the Covenant, [to burn] from evening to morning before the Lord. (27:21; emphasis added). The Torah thus makes explicit what perpetually means: evening to morning (as Rashi notes), and not constantly (as the midrash suggests). This is so obvious that one has to ask: What leads the midrash to its seemingly implausible reading of the biblical text? One possibility is suggested by a striking passage from the Talmud. Puzzled by the commandment to kindle a lamp for God, R. Sheshet asks, Does God then require its light surely, during the entire forty years that the Israelites traveled in the wilderness they traveled only by God s light! But the light is a testimony to humanity that the Divine Presence (Shekhinah) rests in Israel (BT, Shabbat 22b). If the light is intended to symbolize God s presence, then it stands to reason that the light must be kept constantly aflame. Just as God is always present, so must the light be always shining. And yet the plain sense (peshat) of the text accords with Rashi s reading. In fact, the cantillation marks make this clear: There is a pause between ner (light) and tamid (perpetually), indicating that a better translation would be for kindling lamps, regularly. R. 3 Cf. also Sifra, Emor 13:7, as well as the comments of Nahmanides (Ramban, 1194-1270) to Exodus 27:20. 2
Yehoyada Amir explains that the focus of the commandment is not on the light always being aflame but on Israel s obligation to kindle it again and again. Accordingly, the intention of the text is not to give expression to the presence of God in our midst, as the eternal light in our synagogues likely does. Rather, this is a light kindled always before the Lord, by the Children of Israel. This is a light that we are commanded to kindle before God in order to express our presence before God, our standing ready to serve as partners in the work of holiness and the work of creation. 4 Over the course of Exodus, God has shown that God will be present for Israel; now God asks for reciprocity Israel, too, must be present for God. While the plain sense meaning and the midrashic interpretation of the text seem clearly at odds with one another, taken together they form a potent symbol of God and Israel s life together: The light burning in the mishkan (tabernacle) makes the statement that God and the people are perpetually committed to, and present for, one-another. 5 4 Yehoyada Amir, To Kindle a Lamp: Thoughts on Parashat Tetzaveh, available here: http://www.reform.org.il/heb/holidays/weeklyportionarticle.asp?contentid=144 (accessed 2/17/15). 5 In reality, even the midrashic interpretation alone gives expression both sides of the relationship: Six candles are lit each night (Israel) and one stays burning always (God). In a sense, this pair of images is reminiscent of a classic Rabbinic debate about the meaning of the sukkot (booths) in which Jews are charged to dwell for one week each year. God commands Israel to live in booths in order that future generations may know that I made the Israelite people live in booths when I brought them out of the land of Egypt, I the Lord your God (Leviticus 23:43). R. Akiva explains that booths refers to the real booths the people made for themselves in the desert, but R. Eliezer insists that it refers to the clouds of divine glory (ananei kavod) that traveled with the people (BT, Sukkah 11b). R. Akiva s position seems to capture the plain sense of the text, but R. Eliezer cannot help but notice that God is the main actor in our verse: God made the people dwell in booths when God brought them out of Egypt. The Torah s mandate, he concludes, is for us to remember what God did for the people and to build sukkot as symbols of God s providential love and concern. The two images together paint another potent picture of divine-human connection: Dwelling in booths for seven days, we recall and celebrate both God s presence for the people and the people s presence for God. 3
Parashat Tetzaveh mandates another ritual of constancy in addition to kindling lights regularly : Twice a day the perpetual offering (korban tamid) must be brought. 6 God tells Moses, This is what you shall offer upon the altar: two yearling lambs each day, regularly (tamid). You The light burning in the mishkan (tabernacle) makes the statement that God and the people are perpetually committed to, and present for, one-another. shall offer the one lamb in the morning, and you shall offer the other lamb at twilight A regular burnt-offering throughout the generations (29:38-39,42). Bible scholar John Durham explains that the korban tamid was offered in the morning, probably at the beginning of the day s activity, and in the evening just before nightfall; thus the day was opened and closed with gifts to [God], from whom all gifts were believed to come. 7 Durham points to a fascinating reversal in the book of Exodus: So much of the book Exodus, desert journey, Sinai has been concerned with God demonstrating God s presence by what God does; now, with these rituals of constancy, God s presence is demonstrated by what Israel does. 8 In kindling a light and offering sacrifices each day, Israel testifies to its confidence that God is really present, always and in so doing, it meets God s presence with an affirmation of its own. Strikingly, the laws of the korban tamid are followed immediately 6 More precisely, parashat Tetzaveh mandates three such rituals: the regular kindling of the light, the korban tamid, and the twice-daily burning of incense (30:7-8). 7 John I. Durham, Exodus (1987), p. 396. 8 Durham, Exodus, p. 397. The word demonstrating is Durham s. More nuanced terms such as evoked, affirmed, or testified to might be more appropriate and more insightful about how ritual works. 4
in the very same verse by an affirmation that God will meet with Israel and speak with Israel at the very place that it brings these offerings (29:42b-43). It is in these ordinary, repetitious [rituals on the part of the priests] that God promises to meet with [God s] people. 9 According to these passages, then, the presence of God is both demonstrated and elicited not primarily through intense drama but through daily discipline. The presence of God is both demonstrated and elicited not primarily through intense drama but through daily discipline. R. Yehudah Brandes notices an important tension between the names of the two parashiyot, Terumah and Tetzaveh, that convey God s instructions for the building of the mishkan: Whereas the word terumah (gift) connotes voluntary giving, the word tetzaveh (command) connotes obligation. Parashat Terumah begins by appealing to the hearts of the Israelites: God instructs Moses to tell the Israelite people to bring Me gifts; you shall accept gifts for Me from every person whose heart so moves him (Exodus 23:2). In stark contrast, parashat Tetzaveh opens, as we have seen, with the command not the request, but the command that the people bring oil for kindling the lights regularly. Brandes finds the meaning of this polarity in the fact that while Terumah deals with the construction of the mishkan, Tetzaveh is concerned with preparing the priests for their service: The initial construction of the mishkan and its vessels is a one-time event; the one-time preparations are exciting. As for any important building project, it is relatively easy to enlist donors But the service in the mishkan is different. Service requires consistency and constancy; it does not contain the same excitement. There is an element of 9 Victor P. Hamilton, Exodus: An Exegetical Commentary (2011), p. 505. 5
routine to it, which can sometimes be exhausting and dispiriting. For one-time events, one can rely on passion and spontaneity; for enduring commitments, on the other hand, one needs steadiness and steadfastness. 10 What is true of service of God is true of any relational commitment we make: We commit that we will be present even when the spirit does not so move us. Consider love between What is true of service of God is true of any relational commitment we make. spouses. The initial phase of a relationship is often a Terumah moment, a time of freely flowing passion. But no one lives in an unwavering state of fierce ardor. At a certain point in the unfolding of a relationship, we discover that love is not only an emotion but also an existential commitment. We decide that we will love even in moments when we are not overcome with feeling. To be sure, in order for existential commitment to endure, there need to be moments of fervor. But it is an illusion and a prescription for profound unhappiness to imagine that heightened passion is possible, or even desirable, at all times. Robust marriages do have Terumah moments, but what enables them to endure is the mutual commitment implied by Tetzaveh. R. Jacob Ibn Habib (1460-1516) reports a Rabbinic debate about what constitutes the great (or perhaps: the most encompassing) principle in the Torah (kelal gadol ba-torah). Ben Azzai argues that the Shema Hear, O Israel! The Lord is our God, the Lord alone (Deuteronomy 6:4) is the most encompassing; Ben Nannas, in contrast, advocates for You shall love your 10 Yehudah Brandes, Generous-Hearted People, in Torat Imekha: Derashot Le-Farashat Ha-Shavua (Hebrew) (2008), pp. 211-213; passage cited is on p. 211. 6
neighbor as yourself (Leviticus 19:18). Each position has much to recommend it: Affirming our utter loyalty to the one God and striving to love others are both fundamental to what it means to serve God and take Torah seriously. But Shimon b. Pazi insists that a very different verse is in fact the most encompassing one in the Torah: You shall offer the one lamb in the morning, and you shall offer the other lamb at twilight (Exodus 29:39). An anonymous Sage stands up and declares: The law is like Shimon b. Pazi (Ein Ya akov, Introduction). This is, on the surface, an astonishing midrash: How can such a seemingly pedestrian verse compete with and even outweigh two of Judaism s most fundamental, compelling, and inspiring teachings? Shimon b. Pazi s point is crucial, and as I have suggested, it lies at the very heart of parashat Tetzaveh: In serving God, consistency and constancy may just be the most important things in the world. The point is not really that the twice-daily sacrifice is more important than affirming God or learning to love; the point, rather, is that in order to affirm God with the totality of who we are and in order to love others in all of what we do, regularity and steadfastness are essential. Covenant, like marriage, is not built on experience alone but also on loyalty, faithfulness, and showing up. We should not over-inflate the point: Total inattention to experience (or to what is meaningful ) can all too easily reduce religion to sterile and lifeless rote, practices we habitually repeat but which express nothing real, deep, or important. And yet obsessive focus on experience and meaning can reinforce narcissism and self-absorption, which are perennial dangers in the spiritual life. Like romantic passion, religious experience does matter (though we should be careful not to 7
assume that only ecstatic, high-voltage religious experiences count as experience). In serving God, as in loving another person, never feeling it can be disastrous. But covenant, like marriage, is not built on experience alone but also on loyalty, faithfulness, and showing up. This is what the rituals of constancy in Parashat Tetzaveh serve to remind us: There is no spiritual life without discipline and commitment. This may just be the most encompassing and for many of us, the most challenging principle in the Torah. Shabbat Shalom. See Shai Held s other divrei Torah on parashat Tetzaveh: 5774 God in the Mishkan: Present But Not Domesticated Sign up to receive Rabbi Shai Held s weekly divrei Torah direct to your inbox: www.mechonhadar.org/shaiheld 8