Parashat Hashavua: Tetzaveh

Years ago, my mother in law was visiting from Israel and we decided to take her to Governors Island for the day. As we boarded the ferry, we were suddenly surrounded by a crowd garbed in studded leather, and covered in piercings, mohawks, and tattoos. If we had checked the Governors Island schedule, we would have known that there was a punk music festival taking place. (But we hadn’t checked!)

Since time immemorial, clothing has been used to distinguish people. Clothing is basic. It is low on Maslow’s hierarchy of needs–seen as something human beings MUST have for survival, since we do not have our own fur to keep to protect us. However, ornate, fancy clothing – like the outfit of the Kohen Gadol, as described in this week’s parsha – does not fulfill any physical need. 

When Aharon enters the mishkan as the Kohen Gadol, he needs to wear 40 pounds of metal, gems, and fine fabrics. There is a turban and an additional headpiece, all described in great detail. In addition to all of this finery, twice within this text, the Torah mentions that Aharon needs to wear a kutonet – a tunic – underneath it all. And, the Torah adds, Aharon’s sons all have to wear this tunic as well. The tunic has a special embroidered sash, and is accompanied by linen pants. While it would seem that the tunic is the least important feature of Aharon’s outfit, it is mentioned twice, both at the beginning and at the end of the description of Aharon’s clothing. 

A kutonet is mentioned three times in the Torah. The first time is in the book of Bereishit while humans are still in the Garden of Eden, though not for long. After the incident with the snake and the apple, Adam and Eve realize, and are ashamed, that they are naked. God provides them with a “kutonet or,” an animal-skinned tunic. This tunic distinguishes Adam and Eve from the other living creatures in the world, and marks their exile from the Garden of Eden. George Orwell picks up on this in Animal Farm with the pigs’ third original rule, “No Animal Shall Wear Clothes,” a rule that is violated as the pigs gradually lord it over the other animals on the farm.

With this in mind, it is not at all surprising that the second mention of the word kutonet is the story of Joseph and his brothers. Joseph’s father presents him with a “kutonet pasim,” a striped tunic. This kutonet pasim gets Joseph into a lot of trouble with his brothers. The distinctiveness of this coat separates Joseph – not from animals – but from other humans. His brothers immediately sense that it puts him above them in some way. The clothing is something they want, something they feel they should have, something they deserve to have! They can imagine themselves parading about with a similar kutonet. Here we have clothing conferring an elite status – which Joseph eventually attains – and his brothers are jealous, not just because he is a braggart, but because they think they deserve as much from their father, who, in my humble opinion, shouldn’t favor any of them. 

And that brings us to today’s parsha. The distinctiveness of the clothing – and how it is meant to convey a special status – is clearly intentional. If the kutonet worn by Adam and Eve separated humans from animals, and the kutonet pasim of Joseph communicated an elite or favored status, the outfit worn by Aharon makes it fully clear that he has a special and significant role separating him from all of his peers. It would not be an exaggeration to define Aharon’s outfit as regal or royal.

Yet, we have learned from the story of Joseph about family jealousy. How can we avoid this scenario within Aharon’s family? By ensuring that all of his sons are required to wear the same tunic, sash, and pants that he has! The embroidered sash is a nod to the story of Joseph and his brothers. The pants – which are specifically designated to cover nakedness – are a nod to the story of Adam and Eve. 

Here we have a recognition of family jealousy, a recognition of the importance of equity, and an acknowledgement that clothing is not just functional, it is also decorative. The one special garment that anyone would reasonably want to wear – the kutonet – is worn by all of the priests. Aharon’s 40-pound outfit is so over-the-top, others are likely to say, “I would never want that job.” Yet Aharon does not want to be separate from his family or peers. So, the idea of standing out while still belonging emerges here.

Aharon’s haute couture outfit probably filled both internal and external roles. Internally, it prepared Aharon for the important role ahead praying for the people. If he wasn’t in the right frame of mind, the act of putting on all of this bejeweled clothing and being weighed down by it, might have put him into the right spirit. Externally, the Israelites need as much external validation as possible. Seeing their chief priest so adorned, no doubt, gave them some confidence in his role, and some faith in the invisible God he was worshipping on their behalf. 

But isn’t this shallow? In Walden, Thoreau argues for simplicity and function over style in clothing, saying, “beware of all enterprises that require new clothes.” After all, why can’t you wear the same outfit all of the time? Why is Aharon’s fancy attire so important?

Years ago, on that ferry ride to Governors Island with Michael’s Mom, we were quick to feel intimidated by the punk fans surrounding us, knowing nothing at all about them as individuals. It was obvious that our fellow riders were trying to be different by dressing in a punk style. But in their efforts to be different, they all looked the same as each other. Their outfits both set them apart and made them belong. How far are we actually willing to break the mold to assert our own identities? Most of us use our sense of style in minor ways, while adhering to norms of the community most of the time. 

Soon it will be Purim, and our costumes will be on display. Will our costumes be expressions of facets of our identities, or explorations of alternative identities? How different is Purim from every other day, or is it just a more extreme, overt, and dramatic version of costume? Truth is, we dress up all the time, and somehow it impacts our demeanor when we change outfits. Which parts of our true self are we representing or concealing when we change our clothes? Is the “real me” the one in workout clothes or the one in business attire, or the one in pajamas? How often does one feel that their clothing is a representation of their “true self” or the “real me”? We are out of Eden and concealing our nakedness; can we ever show our true selves?

Shabbat shalom!
Lori Skopp
Middle School Head