Tonight’s parsha is parsha Tetzaveh which is, like many sections of the Torah, a list of commandments. As the Israelites build the tabernacle, God tells Moses the specifications for each of the ritual items inside. The priests specifically are instructed to behave and, just as importantly, to look a certain way. Along with the precious metals and jewelry required for a priest’s robes, the instructions for the priestly vestments include:
It’s true that these robes are no longer a part of ritual Jewish life. The intent behind them, though, has been carried into modernity through the rabbinical concept of “hiddur mitzvah,” or literally “the beautification of a commandment.” In biblical times until the present, we have tried not only to find beauty in Jewish ritual, but to change those rituals to reflect the beauty we believe they deserve.
The many commandments in this Torah portion and others, with their lavish detail and strict specifications, display this concept. The text of the Torah is not just a compendium of stories and moral law. With long passages like this week’s, with chapters devoted to the building of the Tent of Meeting, it is also a record of the attention and honor and worth that the Israelites put into their community and worship.
In the modern day, hiddur mitzvah is usually discussed in terms of holiday accoutrement. Menorahs, shabbat dishes, - as a newly converted Jew, I can definitely say that being Jewish required so much shopping. It was exciting trying to choose just the right challah cover - which someday post-COVID I promise to use - a menorah, a mezuzah, all appropriately gorgeous and solemn and fun. It was and still is a joy when I’m able to upgrade something that has religious importance - the candle holders I use for shabbat lights, special candles, and a hand-painted Elijah’s cup that I can use this Pesach instead of getting a spare glass from the cabinet.
Making or buying these special, ornamental items gives them some extra meaning to me, setting them apart as special - a concept that is fundamental to the Torah’s understanding of holiness.
Hiddur mitzvah is basically that concept of “specialness,” the religious equivalent of a grandparent’s fine china and silver that only get taken down once a year. This specialness can bring back that personal connection to Judaism that separates a habit from a meaningful practice. Some people choose to interpret hiddur mitzvah in an abstract way that focuses on bringing the concept of beauty to Jewish life through meditation, setting intentions, or cultivating memories around their actions.
By making Judaism enjoyable and meaningful, it becomes more real. And setting aside something as special is a commitment we need to make - promising to ourselves or God or our community that these resources are for something bigger than ourselves.
But… as always, life isn’t that simple. Hiddur mitzvah can be taken to an extreme. Those gorgeous ritual items I bought? They were absolutely encouraging the concept that “the more money you spend, the stronger your faith.” Can you imagine if every retailer had that kind of marketing strategy? Sales and coupons would be a thing of the past Conspicuous consumption, when someone spends money for the sake of showing off, is somehow turned into a religious command! And the consequence of that thinking is obvious - if you’re poor, you don’t have access to the same “hiddur mitzvah” as someone richer. You aren’t able to follow this directive. Or you have to choose between piety and material needs.
That kind of decision, to spend more than you can afford so you can have something religiously special, might be a very powerful and positive choice - but only if it’s a choice and not an expectation. No one should feel obligated to buy the fancier menorah or the quote-unquote nicest seder plates.
And measuring worth in money is totally counterintuitive to the practice of religion. Hiddur mitzvah is whenever the mundane is elevated to a special place by us for any reason - maybe because of how much it cost, but maybe because of the memories attached to it, the number of people who have used it before us, or the time and place that we made it, or the person who gave it to us.
The Torah is focusing on the former, though - gold and jewels and a long list of precious stones and fancy clothing. This is all about exterior appearances. The priests would go before the people of Israel and dazzle them with the finery that represented the best their community had to offer, its wealth and taste and beauty.
The instructions continue, in part:
(5) Then take the vestments, and clothe Aaron with the tunic[...] (6) Put the headdress on his head, and place the holy diadem upon the headdress. (7) Take the anointing oil and pour it on his head and anoint him. (8) Then bring his sons forward; clothe them with tunics (9) and wind turbans upon them. And gird both Aaron and his sons with sashes[...] (10) Lead the bull up to the front of the Tent of Meeting, and let Aaron and his sons lay their hands upon the head of the bull.
The instructions for the sacrifice become gory.
And the offering instructions continue:
Picture this scene, the priests in their brand new outfits, handmade with expensive dye, with gold and gemstones - and the first thing they do, the first ritual for Aaron, is being anointed with oil.
Then, in front of everyone, they approach the brand new Tent of Meeting, put their hands on the sacrifice… and they slaughter it. It’s not clean. They’re up to their elbows in blood, they’re cutting up fat, they’re removing sewage, and at the end of it, just in case someone was still clean at this point - they are specifically covered in yet more blood and oil. “Thus shall he and his vestments be holy.”
I’m sure the priests washed up as best they could. This was a time before Clorox and bleach. Even if the priests were able to get their vestments dry-cleaned, they’re covered in blood and fat and excrement and oil! It’s almost like God was choosing substances specifically because they wouldn’t wash out! Think of all the blemishes that can make something un-kosher or all the actions that can make a person or their clothes ritually unclean.
Does this sound like hiddur mitzvah? Does it even sound holy anymore?
For me, when I read Torah, if something makes sense, I have to keep studying until it doesn’t make sense anymore. We’ve finally gotten to this point with Tetzaveh. And if it’s unclear, that means we get to choose what to take away from it.
For me, the point of hiddur mitzvah and the priestly rituals is not to stay totally untouched from the world. Beauty is not the same thing as innocence. You can’t reach holiness by pretending that nothing unholy can touch you.
For something to be beautiful, special, and significant and set-apart - the goal isn’t to preserve its physical beauty forever, to not let anyone touch it. Nothing is created to gather dust. Beautiful things are most beautiful when someone uses them.
Hiddur mitzvah means that Judaism exists to create joy. The things you love are here for a reason. If the only reason is that you love them, that is more than enough.