Tag Archives: Pekudei

How the Priestly Garments Atoned for the People

Priests in the Temple (Courtesy: Temple Institute)

This week’s parasha, Pekudei, describes how the Mishkan and all of its vessels were created, together with the special priestly garments. The parasha ends with the formal initiation of Aaron and his sons into the priesthood through their ritual purification, anointment, and donning of the sacred vestments. Our Sages famously state (Zevachim 88b) that the vestments of the Kohen Gadol, the High Priest, atoned for the sins of the people:

The tunic atoned for bloodshed… the breeches atoned for lewdness… the turban made atonement for arrogance… the belt atoned for [impure] meditations of the heart… the breastplate atoned for neglect of civil laws… the apron atoned for idolatry… the cloak atoned for slander… and the crown, worn on the forehead, atoned for brazenness.

The tunic (kutonet) was a simple white garment worn over the body which all of the priests (not only the High Priest) wore. The Talmud says it atoned for bloodshed, and proves it through a gzerah shavah, a form of interpretation where the exact same word (or root of a word) appears in two different contexts, thus allowing a connection between the two to be made. In Genesis 37:31 we read how, following the sale of Joseph, his brothers slaughtered a goat and dipped Joseph’s special robe in the goat’s blood. They used the bloodied robe as proof to show their father Jacob that Joseph had been murdered or devoured by an animal. The word used for Joseph’s robe is kutonet, too, that same word used for the Kohen’s garment. From this we can learn that the kutonet atoned for bloodshed.

The breeches (michnasei bad) were white pants worn to cover up the lower half of the body, and atoned for sexual immorality. The Talmud proves it from an explicit verse in the Torah (Exodus 28:42) where God commanded that the pants be made “to cover up the flesh of their nakedness”. The Hebrew term here is precisely the one used to denote sexual indecency (‘ervah, or gilui arayot).

The white turban (mitznefet) atones for arrogance. Rabbi Hanina explains here that the turban was worn on the head at the very top of the body, and thus atoned for people who similarly put themselves “at the head” above other people.

The last of the four garments worn by the regular priest is the avnet, a sash or belt. Made of red, blue, and purple wool, it was the only multi-coloured garment worn by the regular priest. It atoned for impure thoughts, and the Talmud says we know this from the fact that the sash was worn tied around the heart. Contrary to what we may expect, this was not a belt to hold up the pants, but rather an independent garment wrapped around the upper body.

In Jewish thought, the heart is the seat of the yetzer hara, the evil inclination, which tries to make a person sin by throwing improper thoughts into their head. The heart is also the seat of the yetzer hatov, the good inclination. These two opposing forces both reside in one’s heart. Because of this, the term for “heart” used in the daily Shema is levavecha, and not the more grammatically consistent libecha. The former has an extra letter beit, the doubled language alluding to the two inclinations in the heart.

Our Sages teach that one should always keep their mind above their heart, in full control of their inclinations. The brain should dominate the heart, and the heart should dominate the liver. The Hebrew word for liver, kaved (כבד), is directly related to kavod (כבוד), “honour”. Thus, the liver is the source of pride and arrogance. These organs are arranged physiologically in the body the way they are to teach us a lesson: the brain (or intellect) should be on top, then the emotions of the heart below it, and the ego at the very bottom.

If one accomplishes this, with their brain, moach (מוח) in Hebrew, being above their heart, lev (לב), and their heart being above their liver, kaved (כבד)—then they become a melekh (מלך), “king”. If the letters are reversed, where one’s honour trumps their emotions, which in turn overrule their reasoning, then they are klum (כלם), “nothing”.

The Four Garments of the High Priest

Garments of the regular priest and the high priest (Courtesy: Temple Institute)

The High Priest wore an additional four unique garments. On his forehead was the golden plate known as the tzitz, which atoned for brazenness. This is proven by another gzerah shavah between Exodus 28:38, which commands the priest to wear the plate upon his metzach, “forehead”, and Jeremiah 3:3 which speaks of the brazen “forehead” (again metzach) of a licentious woman.

On top of the regular white tunic, the High Priest wore a meil, a “coat” made entirely of fine blue (tekhelet) wool. The coat atoned for lashon hara, evil speech. Since the Torah states that the coat had bells along its bottom, which jingled as the Kohen walked, Rabbi Hanina explains: “Let an article of sound come and atone for an offence of sound.”

Rav Yitzchak Ginsburgh points out that the term for bell, pa’amon (פעמן) refers to something that resonates, and the same root is used, for example, in describing how the Spirit of God resonated within—l’fa’amo (לפעמו)—the Biblical judge Samson (Judges 13:25). Rav Ginsburgh beautifully notes how the gematria of “Spirit of God” (רוח ה׳) is 240, equal to that of pa’amon (פעמן). It is also equal to meil ha’ephod (מעיל האפד), the full title of the garment, as in Exodus 29:5 or 39:22. He concludes that if one wishes to have the Spirit of God rest upon them, the key is to refrain from any evil speech.

The ephod, or apron, atoned for idolatry. This is derived from Hosea 3:4: “For the children of Israel shall sit solitary many days without king, and without prince, and without sacrifice, and without pillar, and without ephod or teraphim.” The verse is taken to mean that where there is no ephod, there will be teraphim—various implements of idol worship. The word “teraphim” appears multiple times in the Tanakh (as in Genesis 31:19 and Judges 17:5), nearly always in relation to idolatry.

Upon the ephod was the famous choshen, the breastplate that, according to tradition, allowed for communication with the Heavens. The breastplate atoned for violations of dinin, civil law. We know this from the fact that the Torah calls the breastplate choshen mishpat (Exodus 28:15), literally “breastplate of judgement”, with the term mishpat typically referring to court cases and civil law (whereas chukim and edot refer to religious-based, historical, or ritual laws).

In this way, even the very clothes of the Kohen helped him fulfill his main duty of bringing atonement for the people. Yet, in the past two thousand years, there has been no Temple and no priestly service. Might there be something in its stead?

Every Jew is a Priest

When the Temple was destroyed, our Sages instituted a number of practices in place of those Temple rituals. They declared that “as long as the Temple stood, the altar atoned for Israel, but now a man’s table atones for him” (Berakhot 55a). Just as the priests would wash their hands in a special basin before starting their services (and before eating terumah), the Rabbis instituted netilat yadayim, the ritual washing of the hands before starting a meal. Just as the sacrificial meat was required to be brought with salt, it became customary to dip the bread in salt before eating it. In place of the Temple menorah we have the Chanukah menorah, and in place of the Temple showbread we have two challahs, each traditionally braided with six strands to represent the twelve loaves once displayed in the Temple.

In many ways, the Talmudic sages and rabbis saw themselves filling the role once held by the ancient priests. More importantly, they taught that every righteous Jew should see himself as a priest. After all, God intended for all of Israel to be a “kingdom of priests and a holy nation” (Exodus 19:6). In fact, many commentaries agree that it is only because of the Golden Calf incident that the tribe of Levi was appointed to take over the priesthood. Were it not for that tragedy, every firstborn male would be a priest, and any other Jewish male could voluntarily enter the priesthood. To this effect, the Talmud (Bava Kamma 38a) goes so far as to state that “even a non-Jew who occupies himself with Torah is comparable to the High Priest.” A person who lives in Torah and refines himself to the highest degree is likened to the greatest of priests, at least in a spiritual sense.

In a wonderful affirmation of this, we see that every Torah-observing Jewish man is wearing “holy garments” that parallel the priestly vestments. Everyone generally wears a shirt and pants with a belt, along with their head-covering, corresponding to the four vestments of the regular priest (kutonet, michnasei bad, avnet, mitznefet). And there are four additional special items that a Jew wears that parallel those unique garments of the High Priest:

The “bells” along the hem of the tallit.

The tzitz headplate worn on the top of the forehead is like the head tefillin worn “between the eyes”, while the choshen breastplate worn over the heart is like the arm tefillin which is supposed to be worn in line with the heart. The ephod that was worn over the shoulders and stretched down below the waist is like the tzitzit katan garment worn over the shoulders with its fringes hanging down below the waist. The woolen tallit with which we wrap ourselves, with its customary blue stripes to remember tekhelet, is like the special blue meil that was made of fine tekhelet wool. And just as the meil had pa’amonim bells along its hem, the tallit, too, customarily has bell-like knots along its hem.

In this way, every Jew has the ability to elevate to a priest-like status, especially in lieu of a Temple, and in light of the Torah’s statement that all of Israel is a “nation of priests” (Exodus 19:6). Each Jew can bring about atonement, not only for himself but for his people as a whole, and each Jew can spread evermore divine light into the world.

Is the “Jewish Calendar” Really Jewish?

This week we read a double Torah portion, Vayak’hel-Pekudei, which continues to describe the construction of the Tabernacle and its components. At the same time, we have the special additional reading known as Parashat haChodesh, recounting God’s command to the Israelites to establish the months of the year and observe rosh chodesh. Parashat haChodesh is always read before the start of the month of Nisan, since this is the first month of the calendar (although the new year doesn’t officially start until Rosh Hashanah in Tishrei). It was particularly with regards to the month of Nisan that God commanded the Israelites right before their exodus from Egypt.

Babylonian Calendar

Yet, the term “Nisan” does not actually appear in the Torah. Neither do any of the other eleven months’ names. These names actually come from the Babylonian calendar! Our Sages admit that the Hebrew calendar was adopted from the Babylonians during the Jewish exile in Babylon following the destruction of the First Temple. The Babylonian calendar had essentially the exact same 19-year cycle as the current Hebrew calendar, with a 13th leap month of Adar II added seven times throughout the cycle in order to keep it synced with the solar cycle.

Adopting the Babylonian calendar so directly actually presents a number of interesting issues. The Babylonians named their months based on their idolatrous beliefs. For example, Tammuz was the name of the Babylonian (and Sumerian) god of vegetation. In their mythology, Tammuz died and entered the underworld following the summer solstice, when the length of the days start to decline. Because of this, the Babylonians observed a mourning period in the month of Tammuz, with women in particular weeping in the temples.

In fact, this is mentioned in the Tanakh, where God shows the prophet Ezekiel (8:14-15) a vision of Jewish women mourning for Tammuz by the Holy Temple in Jerusalem!

Then he brought me to the door of the gate of Hashem’s House which was toward the north; and, behold, there sat women weeping for Tammuz. Then said He unto me: “Have you seen this, son of man? Turn around again and you shall see greater abominations than these…”

‘Ezekiel Prophesying’ by Gustav Doré

This passage has God showing a number of abominable acts committed by the Jews, justifying their destruction at the hands of the Babylonians. Technically, Jewish law forbids even mentioning the name of a foreign or idolatrous deity. Yet, Jews to this day refer to the fourth month of the year as Tammuz! And to this day, Jews observe a period of mourning in that month! Of course, this period of mourning is not for the deity Tammuz, but for the destruction of the Temple. The parallels are nonetheless striking.

The Ramban dealt with this apparent contradiction by teaching that it was done on purpose, so that the Jews would never forget their exile. On a more mystical level, mourning for the Temple in the month of Tammuz can be seen as a sort of tikkun, a spiritual rectification for the sin of the ancient Israelites idolatrously mourning the false god Tammuz.

Despite this, there was actually a time when Jews did not exactly agree on their calendar. It isn’t surprising that many weren’t too thrilled with adopting a pagan Babylonian system.

A Strictly Solar Calendar

The Book of Jubilees is an ancient Hebrew text that covers Jewish history from Creation until the giving of the Torah at Mt. Sinai. The book is divided into 50 chapters, with each chapter describing one yovel, “jubilee”, the 49-year period proscribed by the Torah. (Multiplying these values suggests that the Torah was given in the year 2450 according to the Book of Jubilees, which is very close to the rabbinic tradition of 2448.) While Jubilees was not included in the mainstream Tanakh, it was traditionally found in the Tanakh of Ethiopian Jews. It is also evident that Jubilees was used by the Hasmonean dynasty (of Chanukah fame), and influenced a number of midrashim, as well as the Zohar.

It isn’t hard to see why Jubilees was not canonized by the rabbis of the day. The book suggests that those who use a lunar calendar are mimicking idol worshipers, and since the calendar is not precise like the solar one, end up celebrating the Jewish holidays on the wrong days.

A section of the Book of Psalms from the Dead Sea Scrolls

At least fifteen copies of Jubilees were discovered among the Dead Sea Scrolls—more than any other text. The Qumran sect of Jews that produced the Dead Sea Scrolls were clearly at odds with mainstream rabbinic Judaism. They believed that God created the sun and planets with precise orbits, and following these natural cycles reveals His great wisdom. Meanwhile, the rabbis rely on witnesses to spot a new moon before having the Sanhedrin proclaim a new month. The witnesses might err, or it could be cloudy that night, and the calendar would be all wrong!

The Sages responded by citing the Torah (Leviticus 23:1-2):

And Hashem spoke to Moses, saying: Speak to the Children of Israel and tell them, the appointed times of Hashem, which you shall proclaim as holy convocations, these are My appointed times.

God clearly commanded us to appoint the convocations, and whenever we would do so, He would declare them as His appointed times! The Talmud elaborates that God wanted us to reconstruct our own calendar, and the Heavens will reflect our actions here on Earth. There is a far more profound lesson here that our Sages wanted to teach us.

One of the central themes of Passover is that God transcends nature. The laws of Creation can be broken, and inexplicable miracles do happen. Since human beings are made in God’s image, we too are capable of transcending nature. (See ‘Transcending Nature’ in Garments of Light.) This is our very purpose in life; to break free from the confines of the physical and ascend ever further spiritually.

The Sages established a lunar calendar that would allow people to participate in God’s creation—and teach them that they don’t have to be subject to the strict laws of nature—while at the same time wisely syncing the calendar with the solar cycle to ensure the years don’t lag behind. Ultimately, the calendar was fixed so that we no longer need any witnesses or a Sanhedrin to establish a month. Nonetheless, we celebrate the same holidays at different times every year to remind us of the great potential that lies within each of us; that we are not meant to be slaves of nature, but masters of it.

*For a more detailed analysis of the conflict surrounding the Hebrew calendar, see the third chapter of Barry Freundel’s Why We Pray What We Pray.