The Way We See and the Way We Are Seen
D’var Torah for Parashat Tetzaveh
March 6, 2025
By Rabbi Boaz D. Heilman
The clothes we wear tell others--as well as ourselves--how we see ourselves. In the privileged world we live in, we have different outfits for different occasions. Maybe even several sets. Our children learn quickly that if they don't wear the right labels, they may not be accepted into a particular group at school or on the playground. We wear baseball caps that tell the world what team we root for, and jerseys that proudly display our favorite player. In Venice, Rio, New Orleans and other places around the world, it's Carnival time, which means the most elaborate and colorful costumes that often display more skin than they actually cover. (Of course, that reminds us of Bianca's no-dress at the Golden Globes, and Kanye's ad for a t-shirt with a swastika emblazoned on it. Call it a fashion statement.) The "Oscars" are a bit more respectable, thankfully, though the big buzz the next day is always who looked more glamorous in what ostentatious and outrageously expensive gown that they'll never wear again.
That's what makes this week's Torah portion, Tetzaveh ("Command," Exodus 27:20--30:10) so astonishing. The Torah instructs us to look into our hearts and deeds, not our clothes! And yet, here we have an entire chapter dedicated to a detailed description of the High Priest’s sacred vestments: The most expensive material, woven with "Threads of gold, blue and scarlet yarn and fine linen" (Ex. 28:5), hemmed with gold bells, along with an outer robe laced with gold chains, a sash and a turban made with the same materials, all topped off with a breast plate and shoulder epaulettes of pure gold with inset rare and expensive gems. The sight must have been something to behold--all serving of course one function: to elevate the priest above all other members of the people.
And yet, for the priest himself, the outfit could not have been less comfortable. First of all, its sheer weight must have made it a heavy burden, difficult to wear for any length of time. Imagine wearing all that "stuff" under the blistering rays of the desert sun, day in and day out! What must have made it worse, however, is that this outfit didn't belong to you. It wasn’t about you; it wasn’t an extension of you. The gemstones were more than an expensive label advertising some exclusive couturier from Persia or Babylon. Instead, engraved into these brilliant stones were the humble names of the Tribes of Israel. Awed by the trappings of power, it would have been easy for the priest to become distracted by all that. But the names, pressed against his heart, always before his eyes, served as a constant reminder of his duties. For all their shining splendor, the sacred vestments were actually no more than a shell, a coverup for the ordinary, fallible and mortal human being that the priest really was. What he saw reflected in all those gold ornaments was not his own face, but rather the faces of the common folk who came to him seeking relief and support, and perhaps a small measure of holiness in their ordinary lives.
In the ideal world envisioned by Moses, we would all be a Nation of Priests, there not only for our own glory and fame, but present for each other, to listen, support and, when necessary, offer a helping hand. May we all learn to see beyond the façade and false pretenses we put on, to judge one another not by the clothes we wear but by the kindness we show. And may we, like Aaron, always be aware of the weight of responsibility placed upon us--to instill holiness into the ordinary, to recognize that God's Presence dwells not only around and beyond us, but also inside each one of us.
© 2025 By Boaz D. Heilman
No comments:
Post a Comment