Tetzaveh: Illumination
Embroidered with an image of eternal light, Tetzaveh’s opens with the commandment for the Israelites to bring pure olive oil to the Mishkan למאור להעלת נר תמיד, ‘to light the lamp constantly’ (Ex. 27:20). Appearing suddenly, this verse is situated within the wider narrative’s descriptions of how the Mishkan must be set up and about the appointment of Aaron and his sons as priests; it seems odd, out of place, though by virtue of its inclusion we know it has significance. In Studies in Shemot (1976), Nechama Leibowitz picks up on this biblical curiosity, writing that ‘evidently those who regard the kindling of the lamp as a purely technical device for lighting up the Sanctuary will find no justification for placing this mitzvah at this point’, especially since the ‘rites and ceremonies associated with the Divine service […] are dealt with in [Vayikra]’.[1] If the construction of the menorah itself has already been discussed, why mention a technicality when ‘there is no mention of all the other purely technical chores associated with keeping the Sanctuary clean and tidy’, a category in which lighting surely falls?[2]
Midrashic and rabbinic commentators recognised this problem and were preoccupied with the question ‘what is the significance of the precept “to cause a lamp to burn continuously”?’ as they sought to explain the significance of its insertion and what ‘actual “message” is conveyed [through] the Menorah and its components’.[3] The midrashim in Shemot Rabbah 36:3 on this question first propose that the menorah ‘symbolises the words of Torah’, its light acting as a guide that shows ‘man his way through life, saving him from obstacles and from failing’.[4] The light of the menorah provided illumination for priestly activities in the Mishkan, activities which were themselves divinely guided. Similarly, this rabbinic literary reading of the verse proposes that the light symbolising Torah is a guide, pragmatically preventing its reader from theologically or spiritually straying. It is a neat interpretation which explains the verse’s insertion by ensuring that Torah – and its importance as a means of reading G-d’s word and partaking in His covenant – is the central focus of the Mishkan’s activities, a succinct reminder of the spiritual purpose for the detailed instructions which populate the rest of the parasha.
The second midrashic interpretation which Leibowitz references veers away from this symbolic literary reading, instead looking at the verse as a symbol of what it means to perform a mitzvah. She notes that it refuses ‘to evaluate the commandment in terms of its practical benefits or its rewards in terms of deliverance from obstacles or from falling’, instead looking at the ‘spiritually refining process set in motion by the performance of a commandment’.[5] Unlike the first midrash, which looks at the light itself, this one looks at the means of performing the mitzvah, the tangible elements of the ‘lamp’ and the olive oil themselves. It argues that, similarly to how the light is a guiding element, the fulfilment of a commandment allows ‘the soul of man [to be] uplifted and “revived”’, providing similar spiritual elevation.[6] It is the act of fulfilling a mitzvah which brings the light to ‘others […] who kindle their lamp from it’, spreading the light of Torah further.[7]
An additional interpretation which does not appear to be touched on by the midrashic commentators is the importance of the motif of light to this passage’s significance. Leibowitz touches on this, writing that ‘light […] constitutes the first of Divine creations’ as seen in Bereshit’s opening passages.[8] I would argue that, since light was the first thing to be created as the world was born, and given that its illuminative quality is something ‘to which all living creatures are drawn’ as a source of life, it is no wonder that it has a place in the creation of something as important and spiritually significant as the Mishkan.[9] Though not part of the detailed construction plans in the same way as other instructions, the importance of light to this space of collective worship cannot be understated. Far from being a mere technicality like the cleaning of floors or the upkeep of water, without this light from the menorah the inner room by the Holy of Holies would be dark, the work of the priests shrouded in shadow. The light of the menorah – created by olive oil made and provided by the Jewish people themselves – elevates the Mishkan to its spiritual purpose, allowing it to truly be what it was created to be. The Jewish people could participate in its holiness by providing the impetus for the light of literal and spiritual illumination, whilst being led and guided by the priestly activities inside and the divinity of the Mishkan itself.
With all these interpretations in mind, we can now understand why this verse has been included at the very beginning of Tetzaveh, and why the midrashic and rabbinic commentators sought to see its insertion ‘not as just one more detail of the service in the Sanctuary’, but as a verse with ‘spiritual motivation’ which was necessary to include before the creation of the Mishkan could be completed.[10] As Leibowitz notes, these ‘commentators and ancient preachers regarded the study of Torah, the observance of the commandments and Divine worship, as a whole’, a singular multifaceted entity which provided light and was symbolised by the light of the menorah.[11] Such a divine place with divine intentions could not be fully complete without the divinely imbued creation and assurance of light, for it is this light which filled and illuminated the Mishkan so that it could fulfil its purpose, as Torah remains the spiritual light which illuminates and guides Judaism.
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[1] Nechama Leibowitz, Studies in Shemot (Exodus), (1976), pg.520
[2] Leibowitz, pg.520
[3] Leibowitz, pg.514
[4] Leibowitz, pg.516
[5] Leibowitz, pg.516
[6] Leibowitz, pg.516
[7] Leibowitz, pg.517
[8] Leibowitz, pg.520
[9] Leibowitz, pg.520
[10] Leibowitz, pg.520
[11] Leibowitz, pg.520