TORAH SPARKS
Parshat Vayakhel-Pekudei Parshat HaChodesh
March 18, 2023 | 25 Adar 5783
Torah: Exodus 35:1-40:38 Triennial: Exodus 35:1-37:16
Maftir: Exodus 12:1-20 Haftarah: Ezekiel 45:16-46:18
Hearing Bells and Drinking Juice
Bex Stern-Rosenblatt
Parashah
Two weeks ago, we read about Moses receiving the instructions for making the Tabernacle and the clothing of the kohanim. This week, those instructions are followed as the Tabernacle and the clothing are made. One of the most peculiar features of the clothes of the kohen gadol is what lines the hem of his robe – golden bells and pomegranates.
The golden bells seem to have a purpose beyond their visual appeal. Bells make noise. Two weeks ago, we learned that this noise was the purpose of the bells. We read, A golden bell and a pomegranate, a golden bell and a pomegranate, on the hem of the robe all around. And [the robe] shall be upon Aaron when he serves, so that its sound be heard when he comes into the sanctum before the LORD and when he goes out, that he shall not die. We do not find a restatement of this purpose in our parashah, simply the fulfillment of the instructions to make the bells and the pomegranates. In our parashah, the verse reads, A bell and a pomegranate, a bell and a pomegranate on the hem of the robe all around, to serve. When push comes to shove with the making of the clothing, the thing that is stressed is that these are the clothes that Aaron will wear while serving. When God relayed the instructions to Moses, God spoke of sound and death, of ways of keeping Aaron, brother of Moses, safe. Perhaps it was only Moses who needed to hear this part of the instructions.
It is an unresolved question, however, of who needs to hear the sound of the bells. The verse reads so that its sound be heard without specifying who should do the hearing. Ramban and Vayikra Rabbah explain that God needs to hear the sound of the bells. They equate it with knocking or announcing one s presence before entering the presence of the king. It would be terribly rude to barge into anyone s home, nevermind God s home. The bells on Aaron s robe allow Aaron to alert God to his presence. This reading turns the high priest into a doorbell that we, the people, ring on Yom Kippur. Rather than putting a door knocker on the Mishkan, we have a living being serve that function. This limits the accessibility of the doorbell. We can only disturb God at home on the preordained times when Aaron dons his robe and chooses to approach.
Ralbag reads the bells very differently. According to him, the purpose of the bells is to serve as a constant reminder for the high priest of his role, allowing him to direct his thoughts appropriately. Aaron is the one who needs to hear the bells. Aaron is wearing all sorts of visual reminders of his role. But he can t actually see his own clothing. The visual reminders are for us. However, Aaron can hear the sound produced by the bells. With every step he takes, every motion of his, he is called back by the bells to the role he serves.
In the darkest of the interpretations, Abarbanel reads us as the ones to hear the bells. He imagines us sitting outside the Holy of Holies, worried that Aaron would die. We could not see Aaron anymore than we could see God. But we could hear the bells coming from inside the Holy of Holies and know that all was well. After our debacle with the Golden Calf when we lost our heads because we could not see Moses for a time and thought we had lost him, God has learned to give us auditory reassurance that Aaron will return to us.
We can understand the bells – for God, for Aaron, for us. They seem to serve a concrete purpose. The pomegranates made of yarn are another story. They are spaced out between the bells, perhaps preventing the bells from ringing continuously, giving Aaron a measure of control of when the bells ring. But why pomegranates? It is one of the foods we miss during our years of wilderness wanderings. And it will be one of the seven species of the land of Israel, representing the plenty of the land. When we sin, we lose this plenty, as we read in the Book of Joel of withering pomegranates. But the most conspicuous references to pomegranates are in the Song of Songs, where they are mentioned six times in verses such as I would give you to drink from the juice of my pomegranate. In Song of Songs, pomegranates describe pleasure concealed, hidden abundance revealed only when the moment is right. Perhaps, Aaron s pomegranates of yarn are similar. They are literally made of cloth – they conceal nothing. But they point us toward the same union of Israel with God that happens when Aaron goes into the Holy of Holies. Together, the bells and the pomegranates warn us of the dangers of approaching God and the reasons for bothering to do so in the first place.
The Route We Walk Matters
Vered Hollander-Goldfarb
Haftarah
Some of you may remember walking in specific manners such as not stepping on the lines of a sidewalk or skipping certain tiles. As adults this might seem silly, but in Tanakh how we walk matters.
The haftarah this week relates to the Torah maftir portion Hachodesh which tells us about the beginning of our existence as a people by establishing a calendar and Pesach. The haftarah speaks about a future Temple the people will visit on the holidays. In that Temple, how you walk is significant:
And when the people of the land come before the Lord on the appointed feast days, whoever enters by way of the north gate to bow shall go out by way of the south gate; and whoever enters by way of the south gate shall go out by way of the north gate. He shall not return by way of the gate through which he came, rather straight ahead he shall go out. (Ezekiel 46:9)
People who would arrive on the holiday would be directed to walk across the entire courtyard area of the Temple (they were not allowed in the building itself.) R. Eliezer of Beaugency (12th century) offered a rationale for this pattern:
For he (the pilgrim) will appear as if he is turning his back towards the Holy when he turns to go out. But if he goes out straight ahead of him (as Ezekiel instructs), he turns sideways and bows and turns sideways and goes out.
In other words, when leaving a situation of high respect, we should be careful not to turn our bodies away. The impression made by such body language negates the respect that we showed a moment earlier. Walking across the full courtyard also affords people who made the special trip for the holiday a chance to take in the full impact of the awe the place inspired.
If we look more broadly in Tanakh, we will discover that in several places a person may not return the way they came. In one such case, in Deut.17:16, the king is forbidden to accumulate horses lest he sends the people back to Egypt (the horse marketplace) and the LORD had said you shall not return by this path again . Prof. Uriel Simon, in his book Reading Prophetic Narratives (Heb.) suggests that turning back the way we came has the effect of undoing the action in our minds. Returning to Egypt by the route that we left would undo the Exodus. Indeed, a king bent on accumulating power (horses were mainly for military use) may also subjugate people, undoing the message of the Exodus.
Both our Pesach route which Deuteronomy forbids us to undo, and Ezekiel s Temple route heading across the courtyard suggest that we are encouraged to walk forward, not to undo what has been achieved. Whether these accomplishments seem as simple as walking across a courtyard or as grand as redemption from servitude, the physical path we walk reflects an inner thought process. The route we walk matters.
From Creation to the Temple:
Where Do Our Shabbat Prohibitions Come From?
Joshua Kulp
The Halakhah in the Parashah
I ve always enjoyed being a bit of a mythbuster when it comes to teaching Jewish texts and law. For those of you who have learned with me virtually or in person, you might recognize this from topics such as afikoman (nope, was not originally designed so that matzah would be dessert); the story of the miracle of Hannukah (nope, was not designed to downplay the military victory); mah nishtanah (nope, it s not even questions, and the avadim hayyinu is certainly not an answer). I ll admit, I enjoy this role, even though at times it can feel a bit grinch-like.
This week s parashah brings an opportunity for a little bit of myth busting, particularly the notion that the thirty-nine forbidden Shabbat labors were derived from the labors performed in the Temple. This week s parashah again notes that building the Temple does not supersede Shabbat. In the midst of several parshiyot concerned with the building of the Mishkan, the Tabernacle, Moses again reminds the people that On six days work may be done, but on the seventh day you shall have a Sabbath of complete rest, holy to ; whoever does any work on it shall be put to death. You shall kindle no fire throughout your settlements on the Sabbath day (Exodus 35:3). An even longer interruption was found in parshat Ki Tisa (31:13-17). It seems quite clear that the interpolation of Shabbat laws into these passages was intentionally designed to send the message that the building of the Tabernacle is critical, but Shabbat takes precedence.
The laws of building the Tabernacle are occasionally referenced in Mishnah and Tosefta Shabbat. For instance, in Mishnah Shabbat 12:3 R. Yosi derives that the prohibition of writing is violated not only by writing letters but also by writing marks, for in the Tabernacle they would put marks on planks of wood to know which goes with which (the Tabernacle, brought to you by Ikea). In Mishnah Shabbat 11:2, a detail concerning the prohibition of passing objects from one domain to another is derived from the way the Levites would pass planks in the public domain.
However, the notion that the famous list of 39 forbidden labors is derived from the building of the Tabernacle is problematic. This myth is already found in the Babylonian Talmud (Shabbat 49a; 73b and elsewhere) but the fact that it is early does not mean that it is an accurate assessment of the origins and nature of this list.
Mishnah Shabbat 7:2 lists 39 labors that are prohibited on Shabbat. The first section of this list consists of all actions needed to create bread: sowing, plowing, reaping, binding sheaves, threshing, winnowing, selecting, grinding, sifting, kneading, baking. The next section lists what is needed to make clothing: shearing wool, bleaching, hackling, dyeing, spinning, weaving, the making of two loops, weaving two threads, dividing two threads, tying and untying, sewing two stitches, tearing in order to sew two stitches. The third section lists the work needed to create clothing: capturing a deer, slaughtering, or flaying, or salting it, curing its hide, scraping it [of its hair], cutting it up, writing two letters, erasing in order to write two letters [over the erasure]. The fourth section consists of the labors required for building houses: building, tearing down, extinguishing, kindling, striking with a hammer. The mishnah concludes with carrying from one domain to another, a prohibition that probably originates in the story of the gathering of the Manna in Exodus 16.
Bread, clothing, books and buildings these come to define the creativity that is not supposed to occur on Shabbat. The list is inspired by the first place where Shabbat appears in the Torah the beginning of Genesis 2. God has finished creating the world, but human creation is still left to be done. Humans and not animals (for the most part, there are a few minor exceptions) manipulate their environment in order to make food, and the most amazing culinary invention is clearly bread. Humans, and not animals, make clothing. Humans, and not animals, make books and humans, and not animals, make homes in which to spend their lives. God did not create a world in which there was bread, clothing, books or homes. But God did create a world with human beings. And our human creativity must end on Shabbat. This, and not the building of the Tabernacle, is the source of the 39 prohibited labors.
There are other types of prohibitions on Shabbat, namely the mandate to rest; these come from elsewhere in the Torah. Likewise in this week and last week s portion, Moses interpolation of Shabbat warnings teaches less about the details of the laws as about their spirit. Our creativity does not supersede the mandate to rest, even if the goal of such creation is an elevated, holy one. Our mandate to rest is nearly absolute and is only suspended in the face of worship of God; it is not suspended in the face of human achievement. Sacrifices were offered on Shabbat in the Temple worship of God occurs every day. But sacrifices are not a symbol of human achievement. Building a place for God on earth is, despite its lofty nature, still a symbol of human achievement.
With this in mind, one of the primary questions one needs to ask in shaping one s Shabbat practice is whether or not a particular action is a creative act, one that shapes the environment and is, even in some attenuated form, a means by which humans transform the world. If it is, then no matter how lofty the goal, it s an act that should not be performed on Shabbat.