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Walk Through the Parsha by Rabbi David Walk
Steady
Tetzaveh 5768
February 11, 2008
In life’s endeavors, which trait will ultimately yield the greatest
success? Intensity or consistency? I think this is a crucial
question in almost every enterprise. In sports, generally we want
consistency, but when you need a home run in the bottom of the ninth, put the
bat in the hands of a hitter, who may not hit it often but when he does it goes
a long way. Before any dear reader suggests that we’d love to get them
both. Allow me to point out that it’s very difficult to maintain a big
fire for very long. When I’ve got a finite amount of fuel, I must decide
how fast to feed the flame. It’s the old Lag B’omer dilemma. Do
I want a big blaze or a long light? In the animal kingdom the slower the
heart beats, the longer the life span.
What about religion and spiritual matters? I think most
religions go for the big show. Intensity is usually considered the goal in
spiritual ventures. Judaism, however, clearly recognizes the existence of
both options. Everyday just before we cover our eyes and reverently
proclaim our allegiance to the Only God, we recite a blessing about God’s love
for the Jewish people. There are two versions of this blessing. In
the bright light of day we declare that God loves us with an abundant love, and
that God grants us great measures of compassion. During the murky night,
on the other hand, we state that God loves us eternally with on going attention
to laws and details. The intensity of daytime’s glare is replaced the
continuity of evening’s steady pace. Now that we recognize the
legitimacy of both positions, we can ask our central question: Which is
superior?
To shed some light on this query, I’d like to introduce a very
famous argument, with a twist. On the verse, “You shall love your
colleague as you love yourself (Leviticus 19:18),” there is a very famous
argument in the Midrash Sifra: "Rabbi Akiva says: This verse is a
fundamental principle of the Torah. Ben Azzai says: [The verse,] 'This is
the book of the generations of humanity on the day that God created man, in the
image of God He created him' (Genesis 5:1) is an even greater principle."
This argument is over whether how we treat one another is most fundamental
or whether it’s the intrinsic value of each individual that is most important.
A fascinating discussion, but even more interesting is an addition to this
text presented by the Marahal MiPrague (Rabbi Judah Loew, 1525-1609). Amazingly
enough he brings down that the third candidate for most fundamental principle
is, "And this is what you shall offer on the altar - two yearling sheep,
two a day, forever (Exodus 29:38).” This verse is, of course, from this
week’s Torah reading.
This most humdrum of daily performance is the greatest concept
in our Torah. This sacrifice which consists of the smallest quanta of an
animal, flour, oil and wine, is the heroic stuff of Jewish continuity. This
particular practice is described as eternal or tamid. There are three
physical items which are also portrayed as tamid, namely the table with the shew
bread, the flame on the altar and the incense on the golden altar. Today
our prayers replace the daily offering and the ner tamid or eternal flame in
every synagogue reminds us of the other tamid items.
When people think about the magnificent Temple in Jerusalem I
believe that they think of the grand ceremonies of Yom Kippur or Sukkot or
Pesach, but the Temple’s position as cultic center for our people came through
the tamid practices. As mentioned above I think most religions emphasize
the spiritual high, but in Judaism we stress the continual attention to the
small things. The guiding principle of spiritual growth is through
constant small increments, every day, forever.
There is one little problem about this little section of the
Torah presented here about the daily sacrifice. You see it doesn’t
really belong here. Anyone familiar with the special Torah readings
recited on Rosh Chodesh and holidays knows that the cycle of communal Temple
offerings is listed in the book of Numbers, chapters 28 and 29. These
verses about the daily sacrifices are repeated there as well. So, what are
they doing being listed here with the building instructions? The simple
answer is that the bringing of the tamid sacrifices was as necessary for the
functioning of the Temple as the construction process. Just like the
Temple doesn’t exist without walls and utensils, it equally doesn’t exist
without the daily offerings.
According to the tradition mentioned in tractate Ta’anit we
also mourn the day when the tamid was stopped as a major milestone in the tragic
development towards the Temple’s destruction.
However, there is another answer to this question given by Reb Aharon
Lichtenstein, the great Rosh Yeshiva of Yeshivat Har Etziyon in Israel. Reb
Aharon points out that the Temple can only function as Mikdash (holy site) and
Mishkan (dwelling for God) when the eternal sacrifices are offered. Right
after the mitzvah to bring the tamid the Torah tells us, “I will sanctify (mikadeish)
the Tent of Meeting and the altar… I will dwell (Mishkan) in the midst of the
children of Israel and I will be their God (Exodus 29:44 & 45).” There
are two steps to the process.
First we work hard through the building and sanctifying stage of
our youth. Then in our adult years we move toward the second aspect of the tamid
sacrifice, namely serving consistently and devotedly. In the earlier
stages of our life we must work unswervingly to build the edifice and vessels
which contain our spiritual personality. Later we must focus on
worshipping God through a life of Divine service.
Every generation, indeed, every individual goes through the
building of the Mikdash of our own self, before serving in the Mishkan of our
soul. The steady progress through these steps is the only assurance of
success in this race called life. We tend to root for the tortoise.
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