This Shabbat we study the Parshah Tetzaveh, meaning “Command” (Exodus 27:20). G-d tells Moses to receive from the children of Israel pure olive oil to feed the “everlasting flame” of the menorah, which Aaron is to kindle every day, “from evening till morning”. The priestly garments to be worn by the kohanim (priests) are described. Tetzaveh also includes G-d’s detailed instructions for the seven-day initiation of Aaron and his four sons—Nadav, Avihu, Elazar and Itamar—into the priesthood, and for the making of the golden altar, on which the ketoret (incense) was burned.

Chabad.org

‍

The Torah spends an entire chapter talking about clothing—the first chapter of Parshat Tetzaveh. Gd had a specific architectural design in mind for the Mishkan, but before laying out the specs for the Mishkan’s structure and design, the Torah talks about the clothes that G-d intended for the High Priest to wear: a robe, a tunic, a turban, a sash, linen trousers and an exquisite apron. On top of the clothing, he was to wear a breastplate with 12 precious stones set in three rows of four. There was also specific clothing for all priests to wear while doing their service. Just in case you were wondering why Gd cares what the priests wear, the Torah opens the discussion of their clothes by saying: “You shall make holy garments for your brother Aaron, for honor and glory.”

‍

If the service in the Mishkan is a template for the service in our personal sanctuary, what is the eternal message about our garments? How does this verse shift our instinctive perspective about the clothes that fill our closets and tantalize us from window displays?

‍

Perhaps the first message that’s apparent from the words “for honor and glory” is that clothing does more than play the functional role of keeping us protected from the elements. Neither is clothing a mere modest cover-up. Clothing brings honor and glory to the wearer. It’s not just that clothing can make you look good, it makes you look respectable and dignified. Rabbi Yochanan, one of the contributing authors of the Talmud, went as far as calling his clothing “my honorers”!

‍

The interrelationship between knowledge and clothes is also seen in a verse from Ecclesiastes: “At all times, let your garments be white, and let oil not be missing from your head.” King Solomon is alluding to the white priestly garments but talking to the general populace: “Let your garments be as dignified as the priests’ garments, and don’t let your reservoir of oil (wisdom) run dry. Let your clothes absorb your wisdom and display who you are on the inside!”

‍

From an article by Rochel Holzkenner

‍

Torah is the interface between the Infinite and creation.

On the outside, it speaks the language of humankind. On the inside, it is depth without end.

Grasp either end and you come up with nothing.

Grasp both and you have Gd Himself.

‍

Rabbi Tzvi Freeman

‍

When a Jew seeks to achieve the goal of transforming all his possessions into a Sanctuary for Gd, he must take his gold-his finest and most precious thing-and make of it a menorah. The Almighty says to him: “Your study of Torah, your prayers, your mitzvot-all these are not enough for Me. I demand of you that you also transform your physical possessions into a Sanctuary for Me. Indeed, you are unable to do so by yourself, thus I will do it. However, you have to cast the gold into the fire of your heart-[for within the heart of every Jew burns a fire for Gd]-and then I shall mould it into a Sanctuary. Moreover, it will emanate light unto the world and be evidence of the Divine Presence that dwells in you!” In establishing this menorah and sanctuary of our own, this will of itself bring about the new Sanctuary and menorah in Jerusalem that will come to us through Moshiach.

‍

From an article by Rabbi J. Immanuel Schochet

‍

‍

A factory hired a new production manager. He was a great motivator and everyone in the plant was enthusiastic. It didn’t take long for the manager to send an excited message to his bosses in the head office. “Got production up to unprecedented numbers. We broke all our records yesterday!” The message he got back in return read: “What are you doing today?”

‍

We can bemoan the insensitivity of business people, but at the end of the day, the nature of the beast is that business is guided not by sentiment but by the bottom line. Yes, it’s hard, often unfair, and certainly unsympathetic, but that’s the reality. It’s also a lesson for life.

‍

There are many who start out with great success. Their lights shine for a brief moment, then flicker and fade into oblivion. The secret to success goes beyond the initial enthusiasm. It requires persistence, commitment, and consistency. Rashi teaches us this very message at the beginning of our weekly reading, Tetzaveh. “And you shall command the Children of Israel that they should take for you pure, pressed olive oil for illumination, to kindle the lamp continually.”

‍

The “lamp” refers to the Menorah in the Temple, and Rashi quotes the Talmudic teaching that the requirement is to light the Menorah “so that the flame ascends of itself.” The Kohen who lights the Menorah must ensure that the flame is strong and stable and will not be extinguished when he walks away. Often, we light a candle, and it flickers briefly, only to go out as soon as we turn our backs. The instruction here is to make certain that the flame is properly lit and will keep burning long after we’re gone.

‍

This, too, is an instruction for life. It’s not enough to light the candle. We must make sure it will last. There’s got to be sufficient oil, wick, and whatever it needs to last. In life, whether in business or in our relationships, we need to be there for the long haul. There are sprinters who can break records over short distances, but marathon runners need stamina more than speed, and grit more than grace. It takes a lot of training and enormous determination to go the full distance. And as it is in life, so it is in Jewish life. We need not only starters, but finishers. Many people make resolutions and begin studying Torah or practicing a new mitzvah, and at first, it’s new, fresh, and exciting. Too often, though, the enthusiasm wanes and peters out. We need the capacity for continuity. That initial burst of energy alone cannot guarantee long-term success. We may be fast, but we fade. Yes, routines can become boring, and it’s human nature to lose interest after a while. But those with staying power are in it for the long haul. The capacity for continuity, that sense of consistency, separates the faders from the finishers.

‍

Many synagogues have a ner tamid, an “eternal light,” usually somewhere near or over the Holy Ark. It is a reminder of the Menorah in the Temple of old which was kindled daily, summer or winter, rain or shine. The Kohen and the flame were faithful, reliable, and constant.

‍

The light of Gd is eternal. Torah is truth and truth is forever. The Hebrew word for Truth is emet, which in Hebrew is spelled Alef, Mem, Taf. These three Hebrew letters are the first, last and middle letters of the Hebrew alphabet. First, middle, and last represents consistency. Truth is truth, now and forever.

‍

Long ago, King David wrote in the Book of Psalms, “Who may ascend the mountain of G-d, and who may stand in the place of His sanctity?” It’s one thing to climb the mountain. It’s another to maintain one’s level. Please Gd, may we keep climbing and sustaining our enthusiasm now and forever.

‍

From an article by Rabbi Yossy Goldman

‍