Take Two Tablets!

Shabbat Chol HaMoed Pesach

Ex. 34:1 “The Lord said to Moses: ‘Carve two tablets of stone like the first, and I will inscribe upon thew tablets the words that were on the first tablets, which you shattered.’”

            On the Shabbat which takes place during Passover, we omit the regular Torah reading and instead chant a section from the Book of Exodus (33:12-34:26). To set the context, Moses comes down from Mount Sinai and, seeing the Israelites dancing before the Golden Calf, shatters the Tablets on which are inscribed the Ten Commandments. He goes back up the mountain and returns 40 days later with a second set.

            As is noted in the Jewish Study Bible, God now prepares to formally restore the covenant by replacing the first set of tablets. The second set differed in that the stones were carved by a man (Moses) and then inscribed by God. The Sforno inferred from this that God did not entirely forgive the people after the matter of the Golden calf, but most commentators focus on the fact that this second set was a joint project between God and Man. Following this train of thought, the Sages inferred that the “oral Law” (which they believed had been transmitted with the written law) was the basis upon which human beings could adapt Jewish law to the needs of humanity.

            During the celebration of Passover, we have perhaps one of the most significant Rabbinic additions to Judaism: the Passover seder (which may well have been influenced by the Greek “symposia” taking place during the early Rabbinic period​).

            The second set of Tablets was a demonstration of the need for human understanding and thought about how we relate to our history, our tradition, and to God.

Sweeping up the Ashes

 Tzav

Lev. 6:1-8:36

 

Précis: The parasha begins with Adonai ordering Moses to command (“tzav”) Aaron and his sons concerning offerings. Requirements for the daily offerings, directions for the meal offerings, instructions for guilt-offerings and thanksgiving offerings are described. The parasha then describes the initial offerings of the Tabernacle made by Aaron and his sons following their consecration to priestly service by Moses.  

 

Lev. 6:3 “The priest shall dress in linen raiment, with linen breeches next to his body; and he shall take up the ashes to which the fire has reduced the burnt offering on the altar and place them beside the altar.”

                According to these requirements, as the first order of business each morning, the priest must dress in linen clothing (which was rather pedestrian compared to his usual raiment). So garbed, he sweeps up and discards the ashes left over from the previous day’s sacrificial fires. Why does the religious leader, dressed like a commoner, undertake a function that might seem more appropriate for the janitor?

I’ve suggested before that this was a form of what we might call “holy drudgery,” meaning that any work connected to the Mikdash or Temple (and by extension our synagogues) was holy. (There is even midrash suggesting that priests fought so strenuously over the chance to undertake this duty that eventually a lottery was used to select the ash-gatherer for the day.) There is a more esoteric explanation. When the priest dons ordinary clothing and sweeps up the ashes, he cannot forget a link to ordinary people who undertake mundane tasks.

Dressed in fancy robes and seeming to appear to the “common folk” as someone closer to God than the people could lead the priests to unwarranted self-satisfaction, or even the belief that they were somehow superior to other human beings, able to act without regard to the holiness of their responsibilities. There is a lesson for the current leaders of our society.