Clothes And The Man
D’var Torah for Parashat Tzav
By Rabbi Boaz D. Heilman
March 23, 2018
In the excellent
1981 movie “Raiders Of The Lost Ark,” as the Nazi-sympathizing archeologist
Rene Belloq prepares to open the Ark of the Covenant, he puts on priestly robes
and intones an ancient prayer. Of
course, we know what happens next.
Suffice it to say that Indiana Jones’s last-minute warning to Marion to
shut her eyes tight saves them both from a general meltdown.
The scene is both
exciting and ironic. We ALL want to know
what’s inside that Ark. According to
ancient Jewish tradition, the contents consist of the two sets of stone tablets—the
Ten Commandments—brought down by Moses from his encounter with God on top of
Mount Sinai: the set he broke upon seeing the Israelites worshipping the Golden
Calf, and the set he then had to recreate, all while fasting for forty days and
forty nights. In the movie, opening the
Ark releases some wild spirit—presumably a wrathful form of the shechinah,
God’s presence on Earth, usually protective and compassionate, though obviously
given to extreme and vengeful wrath when angered.
How ironic that an
anti-Semite would don an exact replica of the Priestly Robes, described in
detail in the second book of the Torah, Exodus, and worn for the first time in
this week’s portion, Tzav (“Command,” Leviticus 6:1—8:36). Even more ironic is that Belloq would chant a
prayer that isn’t found among the Torah’s detailed instructions. The Aramaic language of this prayer indicates
that it comes from around the 1st-3rd century of the Common
Era. How would Belloq even know this
prayer, which is chanted when Aron Ha-kodesh, the Holy Ark, is opened
and its sacred contents, the Torah scroll, is taken out on Shabbat mornings and
festivals?
But never mind
that detail; for those who don’t know, it’s just so much mumbo-jumbo that one
would expect at such a moment, when a fool tries to meddle with something
that’s way beyond his understanding. For
those who do know, however, it’s a bit of sly Hollywood humor, entertainment at
its finest.
Rather than this
prayer, however, tonight I would like to focus on the clothing that Belloq puts
on for the occasion, a costume patterned after the priestly robes that Aaron
and his sons are instructed to wear when they offer sacrifices at the Temple.
Created of rare
and expensive materials, intricately woven and richly decorated, the priestly
clothing included linen trousers with a fitting belt, designed for both comfort
and modesty. On his head, the Priest
wore a turban to which was attached a golden diadem inscribed with the Hebrew
words, “Holy to God.” Covering his body were a tunic, a robe, and finally a
billboard-like vest on which was fitted the mysterious, precious-stone-embedded
Urim and Thumim, used by the priest for future-telling.
Now, three
thousand years later, in his super-secret hideout, Belloq has tied up Indiana
Jones and Marion Ravenwood. Garbed in pseudo-priestly vestments, he prepares to
open the Ark, not knowing the deadly force he was about to unleash.
Though an
archeologist by training, Belloq must have slept through history class. As an expert in Middle Eastern archeology, he
should have known that only one person in the entire world was qualified to approach
the Ark, let alone see its content. And
that person was the High Priest, a direct blood-descendant of Aaron, Moses’s
brother and the first High Priest of Israel.
Belloq should have known that there was a time when non-descendants
usurped the throne of the Priesthood. These were the Hasmonean kings,
descendants of the Maccabees, and what they did turned out very badly in the
end: Their action resulted in the fall of the Judean Kingdom and its takeover
by the Roman Empire.
But Belloq made yet
another mistake, a much more common one, namely taking a passage from the Torah
and applying it, out of context, to his own purpose and end. If he had bothered to read the rest of this
portion, he would have known that it wasn’t the clothes that made the priest
holy. The sacred vestments were only
part of a larger whole: Through a
splendid ritual held in full view of all the Israelites, the High Priest, his
clothing, the Tent of Meeting, and the altar along with all its vessels and
tools, were all simultaneously sanctified and ordained for the Sacred
Service. Misusing the ritual for his own
selfish gain was a transgression for which Belloq was bound to pay dearly.
History is filled
with people using—or abusing—religion to suit their own needs. Where facts or text did not suit them, they
forbade or burned the offending volumes.
In fact, for nearly a thousand years, the Bible itself was blacklisted;
reading or translating it were strictly banned.
During the aptly named Dark Ages, merely owning a copy of either the Old
or New Testament was a crime punishable by burning at the stake.
Even today one
doesn’t have to go to the movies to see Scriptures misused and misinterpreted.
Bible-quoting bigots defend their suppression of women, gays, people of color,
and even of the original authors of the Bible, the Jews, by emptying whole
sections of Scriptures of their original meaning and purpose, and then filling
them with narrow-minded prejudice and ignorance.
It wasn’t his
clothing that made the High Priest holy.
It was his duties. The writing on
his tiara, “Holy to God,” reminded the priest of the many rules that regulated
his conduct and behavior. The gems
embedded in the Urim and Thumim were inscribed with the names of the tribes of
Israel, to remind him of whom he represented when he approached the Ark of the
Covenant. It wasn’t the Priest’s clothing that protected him from God’s
wrath—it was his love for his people, his desire to serve them, his unselfish
willingness to face danger and even death while carrying out his sacred duties
and obligations.
Holiness, we learn
from this portion, isn’t in how we clothe ourselves. It isn’t in the pomp and circumstance with
which we surround ourselves. It’s in how we fulfill our purpose, the Divine
purpose embedded within each of us, to make the world better; to make life
better; to ease the pain and sorrow of the people who entrust their prayers and
hopes to our listening ear, our willing heart, and our outstretched hand.
May we all
become—in the words of Moses and the Torah—a nation of priests, all holy, all
sanctified by how we fulfill our calling and the sacred tasks we take upon
ourselves.
© 2018 by Boaz D.
Heilman
No comments:
Post a Comment