February 11th: Tetzaveh
THIS WEEK IN THE TORAH
Rabbi David E. Ostrich
The main theme of our Torah portion is the clothing and the consecration of the priests—the Kohanim. Speaking to Moses, the Lord says, “You shall bring forward your brother Aaron, with his sons, from among the Israelites to serve Me as priests: Aaron, Nadab and Abihu, Eleazar and Ithamar, the sons of Aaron. Make the sacral vestments for your brother Aaron, for dignity and adornment.” (Exodus 28.1-2)
Though the priests are servants of the Lord, there is certainly something elitist and undemocratic about their elevation over the other Israelite tribes. Their tribe, Levi, is chosen from all the other tribes for a special status and role. Then, from among the Levites, Aaron and his sons are chosen for an even more special status and role. Why are these people lifted above the others?
As with any question about Biblical rules, the initial answer should be that this is the way God commands it. Though we may try to figure out God’s reasoning, the importance of obedience to the Divine Will is a major principle of both Biblical and Rabbinic Judaism. We do not have to understand God’s motives or judgments; we just need to follow God’s mitzvot.
Nonetheless, we try. Some commentators look back on the actions of the progenitor of the tribe, Jacob’s son Levi. Perhaps he showed some qualities that are applied to his descendants as inherited merit, zechut avot.
Then, there is a historical possibility—one that revises the Torah’s story of Yetzi’at Mitzrayim. Though we tell the story and celebrate the miraculous Exodus from Egypt, a number of the details just do not stand up to analysis. First, how could such a large number of people (600,000—or, if you believe the Midrash, 2,500,000!) depart Egypt without any kind of historical record? One could also ask about how a country could withstand all those plagues and the destruction of its army in the Red Sea without any kind of mention in the Egyptian records. There is also the practical matter of organizing, leading, and feeding all those Israelites. Think of the complexity of parking and getting 100,000 fans into Beaver Stadium, and then increase it by six times and take away the walkie-talkies, cellphones, and years of planning. We also have the problem of the tribal society in the Book of Judges—which supposedly happened AFTER the Exodus—closely resembling the Patriarchal society BEFORE the Exodus. And, there are some theological problems in the story. Why does God have two names—the four-letter name we do not pronounce (saying Adonai or The Lord instead) and Elohim, God? The koshis (difficulties) go on and on and lead many to question the historical veracity of the Torah story.
There are Traditional answers to all of these questions—the biggest being the miraculous nature of God and God’s works. However, the many koshis have led many thinkers to consider alternative explanations.
Among them is the theory that not all of the Israelites experienced all of the stories. Perhaps most of the tribes stayed in the Land of Israel while only the Tribe of Levi went down to Egypt and experienced slavery, liberation, and the revelation at Mount Sinai. If the Exodus involved only one tribe—and the few thousand slaves fled over a number of years, then the migration would not have been so noticeable. And, if the miracle of escaping slavery were simply that—escaping slavery—then stories like the splitting of the Red Sea might have been exaggerations of something less worthy of special effects but nonetheless existentially amazing. If the route to freedom involved marshes—where pursuing chariots could not follow, the liberation would have certainly been miraculous—just not in the way the legend grew.
This theory may also explain why the Levites never got a territory in Israel. All the Israelites who had stayed in the Land had their territories, so, when the Levites arrived from Egypt, they were landless. What they had, however, was a tradition of a miraculous encounter with the Lord—both in the Exodus and at Mount Sinai, and they became the teachers of religion and the workers of the religion.
So, rather than an election, lifting the Levites above the other Israelites, perhaps this was a special role carved out for a landless tribe—whom the other tribes wanted to include as family, but who needed a special way to provide for itself and be part of the greater community. Their spiritual legacy gave them a special skill that could serve the other tribes.
When I think about elitism—and my reaction to it, I feel a palpable tension. While I may feel rankled or jealous when someone is lifted above me, I generally do not feel discomfort when I am lifted above someone else. Could I be a secret admirer of Napoleon the Pig—who used to say, “All animals are created equal, but some are more equal than others?” Or, is it simply a matter of me feeling special—and of feeling threatened when someone else becomes special?
In our Jewish Tradition, this issue of specialness or chosen-ness has long been a concern. It begins in Exodus 19 (v.5-6) where God says, “You shall be My treasured possession among all the peoples. Indeed, all the earth is Mine, but you shall be to Me a kingdom of priests and a holy nation.” Some Israelites saw this as a mission-oriented selection, while others began to see it as a statement of racial superiority. Such thinking was anathema to the Prophets such as Amos who made the point that our selection does not make us better. “To Me, O Israelites, declares the Lord, you are just like the Ethiopians. True, I brought Israel up from the land of Egypt, but I also brought the Philistines from Caphtor, and the Arameans from Kir.” (9.7) Though eloquently stated, many Israelites must have persisted in thinking that being chosen by God makes us Jews better than the other nations. So, the Rabbis continued Amos’ message in several Midrashim which assert that we were not God’s first choice. Indeed, the Rabbis teach, we were God’s last choice among all the peoples of the earth.
The point throughout our history has been that our election/selection/sacred calling is for a purpose—as the original Exodus passage clearly states, “Now then, if you obey Me faithfully and keep My covenant, then you shall be My treasured possession…” We are not talking about elevation for status’ sake; we are talking about a role and a mission. What makes Israel great is not our blood or our selection but rather how we respond to God’s Presence. The same can be said for the selection of the Levites and then Aaron and his sons. Their appointment does not make them better; it just specifies their tasks and holy calling.