Parashat HaShavua - Tetzaveh
Ishay Ribo, in his song “Keter Melucha,” melodiously progresses through the Torah readings of these few weeks to highlight the ups and downs of their themes, and the way those themes play off the Jewish calendar, in order to try and understand the ups and downs of life today. “Between Tetzaveh and Ki Tisa,” he sings, “there is Esther, Purim, feasting and festivity.”
This Shabbat, as the Shabbat that most years falls right before Purim, would be Shabbat Zachor, when we recall the evil ways of Amalek. This year, however, is a leap year on the Jewish calendar, thus suspending for a month the mandate to remember. During a period in our lives when time has been so blurry (though coming more into focus every day, thankfully) - when days, weeks and even years have blend together - we have a Shabbat when we are reminded to remember, but not yet, when it is almost Purim but not really. It is so hard to know these days what should be remembered and what forgotten, what is important and what not, what is positive or negative.
There is a symbol in this week’s parsha of Tetzaveh and next week’s Ki Tisa that in my opinion captures and represents this ambiguity, the difficulty of memory, and our resilience in the face of adversity: the rock. This week we read that the priestly clothing of Aharon included “stone fillings, four rows of stones / מִלֻּ֣אַת אֶ֔בֶן אַרְבָּעָ֖ה טוּרִ֣ים אָ֑בֶן.” (Ex. 28:17) These “stones are for the names of Bnei Yisrael twelve, corresponding to their names / וְ֠הָֽאֲבָנִ֠ים תִּֽהְיֶ֜יןָ עַל־שְׁמֹ֧ת בְּנֵֽי־יִשְׂרָאֵ֛ל שְׁתֵּ֥ים עֶשְׂרֵ֖ה עַל־שְׁמֹתָ֑ם.” (Ex. 28:21) And why did he wear them? “Aharon will carry the names of Bnei Yisrael in the choshen of judgment over his heart when he enters the Holy, as a remembrance before the Lord at all times.” (Ex. 28:29)
But does God actually need a reminder? As Anat Hadar and Barry Zimmerman explain, in this context one can think of God as a king with a lot going on, and Aharon by his very presence is a living reminder to God of who needs to be taken care of. (chagim.org.il) The Urim and Tumim, as they are called, “will be over Aharon's heart when he comes before the Lord, and Aaron will carry the judgment of the children of Israel over his heart before the Lord at all times / וְהָיוּ֙ עַל־לֵ֣ב אַֽהֲרֹ֔ן בְּבֹא֖וֹ לִפְנֵ֣י יְהֹוָ֑ה וְנָשָׂ֣א אַֽ֠הֲרֹ֠ן אֶת־מִשְׁפַּ֨ט בְּנֵֽי־יִשְׂרָאֵ֧ל עַל־לִבּ֛וֹ לִפְנֵ֥י יְהֹוָ֖ה תָּמִֽיד.” (Ex. 28:30)
Applying this idea to our lives today, while we might have much confidence in our own memories right now, and in our sense of time, in our mere existence and daily persistence we reaffirm the meaning of life and illuminate a way forward.
As I mentioned above, the importance of the rock reprises its prominent role in next week’s reading of Ki Tisa. When Moshe sees Bnei Yisrael committing the sin of the Golden Calf, he shatters the first set of tablets given by God with the commandments inscribed. Yehuda Amichai, throughout his classic book of poetry Open Closed Open, integrates references to an Amen Stone. It is a profoundly tragic image, of a stone fragment from a tombstone, which for Amichai evokes much Jewish suffering and loss over time:
“On my desk there is a stone with the word “Amen” on it, /
a triangular fragment of a stone from a Jewish graveyard destroyed
many generations ago. The other fragments, hundreds upon hundreds,
were scattered helter-skelter, and a great yearning,
a longing without ends, fills them all.”
“But now,” he writes later in this poem, “the fragments are gathered up in lovingkindness
by a sad good man. He cleanses them of every blemish…”
This word “Amen” that is etched into the stone represents much sadness, and yet, as Amichai writes in a subsequent iteration, it is “a soft singing amen, as in prayer: / Amen and amen, may it come to pass.”
Finally, at the end of this collection of poems, Amichai associates these broken pieces with other broken things in our history, such as “broken Tablets of the Law.” And then he concludes:
“And though I know about all this, and about the end of days,
the stone on my desk gives me peace.
It is the touchstone no one touches, more philosophical
than any philosopher’s stone, broken stone from a broken tomb
more whole than any wholeness,
a stone of witness to what has always been
and will always be, a stone of amen and love.
Amen, amen, and may it come to pass.”
האבן הזאת על שולחני נותנת לי שלוה
היא אבן אמת שלא יהיו לה הופכין
אבן חכמה מכל אבן חכמים, אבן ממצבה שבורה
והיא שלמה מכל שלמות
אבן עדות על כל השברים שהיו מעולם
ועל כל הדברים שיהיו לעולם, אבן אמן ואהבה.
אמן, אמן וכן יהי רצון.
May we also find this peace, this feeling of “amen and love,” from the parts of our lives that feel fragmented, and in those that feel whole.
Shabbat shalom!
Rabbi Jack Nahmod
Middle School Judaic Studies Head
Rabbinic Advisor