Elaborate Entering and Exiting
Adapted by Channie Koplowitz Stein
Parshat Tetzaveh presents us with the specific wardrobe the kohein gadol wore in the performance of his service. The robe the kohein gadol wore was embellished with bells and pomegranates all around the hem. “Its sound shall be heard when he enters the Sanctuary before Hashem and when he leaves, so that he not die.”
Our mesorah teaches us that each piece of clothing the kohein gadol wore was meant to atone for a particular sin. The Talmud Yerushalmi tells us that the bells of the me’il/robe were meant to atone for the sin of unintentional murder. Whenever we are presented with a symbolic connection, we must also understand that there is a rationale behind that connection. Rabbi Gifter z”l here elucidates the connection for us. When the people heard the bells of the kohein gadol, they became aware of the approach of a man representing God’s image. This awareness would create in them a greater sensitivity to all people, for each human being was created in the image of God. In an incident of negligent homicide, we may attribute the negligence to an “accident” or to “circumstances”. But the underlying cause, notes Rabbi Gifter z”l, was an insensitivity to and therefore a lack of respect for the godliness of the other, resulting in the negligence that killed. Upon hearing the bells that generated respect for the kohein gadol, the personification of the image of God, we are reminded of the respect we must accord all human beings created in the image of God. Thus atonement for inadvertent murder was achieved.
The Torah Temimah offers a further explanation. Bells are significant for their sound, their voice/kol. One of the first sins of mankind is also recorded through its kol/voice. After Kayin killed Hevel, Hashem confronted Kayin, asking him where his brother was. Hevel abrogated responsibility toward his brother, but Hashem further addresses him, “The kol/voice/sound of your brother’s blood cries out to Me from the ground.” The sound of the bell therefore atones for that sound of negligent homicide. [Rabbi Fohrman noted that since death had not yet occurred, Kayin could not have known the result of his action, and therefore the homicide was negligent and not premeditated. CKS]
But Torah law and meaning go beyond the surface. The Baal Haturim notes that there were 72 bells on the robe, paralleling 72 shades of white that constituted a diagnosis of tzoraas, the punishment for speaking loshon horo. Our Sages tell us that one afflicted with tzoraas is considered symbolically dead, and we are further told that loshon horo/harmful speech kills three people, the speaker, the listener and the subject of the conversation. In this context, the bells also atone for the sin of loshon horo.
The kohein gadol wore this robe whenever he entered the heichal/main hall/Sanctuary of the Mishkan, but when he entered the Kadosh Kadashim/Holy of Holies on Yom Kippur, he wore only white. The kohain gadol had an “apartment’ in the Mikdosh itself, but he only went to his own home for an hour or two at a time. Therefore, writes Rav Schlesinger in Areset Sefateinu, the bells served to alert others of his arrival so they could afford him the honor due him. But why was it necessary to wear this robe when he served in the heichal where the other priests also served? Rabbi Rivlin writes that the bells were meant to alert the kohein gadol himself that he was now entering the King’s service, and he should enter with the proper frame of mind. While the other priests entered and served as a group and therefore had peer support to keep them focused, the kohein gadol usually served alone, and therefore needed an outside reminder to arouse him to feel the trepidation and awe of his mission.
Ramban provides a more practical reason for the bells. When one is about to enter a king’s palace (and when one enters anyone’s home) one may not just barge in unannounced. One needs to announce one’s presence and get permission to enter. If one does not get that permission from the king, one may be executed. Indeed, this was Queen Esther’s fear when Mordechai asked her to go to King Achasuerosh without being summoned. Additionally, the kohein gadol’s entering the Sanctuary was meant to be a private audience with the King, so all who served Him, the angels, needed a signal to tell them to leave. Then, when the private “audience” was over and the kohein gadol was exiting, the sound of the bells would alert them that they could now enter the Sanctuary and continue serving the King.
The bells were part of the entire robe, in a wardrobe that was meant to signify kavod vetiferet/honor and glory. While the kohein gadol would be invested with honor and glory in his own right, the clothing was also meant to invest him with a sense of humility, writes Rabbi Miller z”l. These two characteristics may seem to be at odds with each other, yet the kohein gadol is meant to reconcile the two within himself. Achashuerosh donned these same garments for his 180 day orgy at his coronation party. He considered himself the sole ruler of all, even to the point of executing his Queen Vashti and issuing an edict that every man should be the ruler in his own home. The garments not only covered his body, but also went to his head.
In contrast, the kohein gadol was to bear in mind his role, that he is always in the presence of Hakodosh Boruch Hu and always in His service. In this role, he himself must be dressed in glorious attire as befitting being in the King’s presence, but he should never assume that he is the King. As the Baal Shem Tov notes, with this mindset, when others accord a servant or diplomat the honor due to his king while he is in the king’s presence, the servant will cringe in embarrassment and humility, fearing for his life for usurping the honor due his master. This is the mindset necessary for the kohein gadol when he serves the King. This is his mindset even when he enters his own home, for here too in his personal sanctuary he is still in the presence of the King. And so, he knocks, not only to honor the privacy of those individuals who may be in his home, but also to announce his presence as he enters what is basically also the home of Hashem. Indeed, when we knock on the door of our homes, it reminds us that we are not the masters of our homes; this perspective enables us to create an appropriate sanctuary for Hashem.
If he received permission to enter Hashem’s presence, he must also receive permission to leave Hashem’s presence. [I am reminded of scenes where an employee was asked to come to the boss’ office. When the employee thinks the meeting is over, he turns around to leave, only to hear his boss snarl, “You are not dismissed!” CKS]
Rav Chaim Shmulevitz z”l cites several instances in Tanach where the protagonists waited for Hashem to tell them to leave. Noach had been in the ark for a full year without a moment’s rest from his responsibility toward the animals in his care. Yet, although the flood was over and the waters had subsided, Noach did not leave the ark until Hashem gave him permission. It was on Hashem’s command that he entered the ark, and it would be on His command that he would leave. This was nothing more than proper etiquette, derech eretz. In an even more telling event, Nebuchadnezzer, an earthly king, had thrown Chananya, Mishoel and Azaryah into the burning furnace. They strolled around unscathed as an angel protected them. Nevertheless, they did not leave until Nebuchadnezzer gave them permission, lest people accuse them of fleeing from the king’s decree.
As far as entering someone’s house, even Moshe Rabbenu did not enter the homes of the Levites, albeit Hashem commanded him to count the babies from one month and up for the census. Moshe waited outside each home, and Hashem told him how many souls were inside.
Further, although Moshe had an open invitation to talk to Hashem, He still waited for Hashem to call to him before approaching Him. This is proper derech eretz, writes Rav Aharon Kotler zt”l. So why doesn’t the Torah have laws of derech eretz? Because middos, good character traits, are a prerequisite to Torah. Without good character, one cannot attempt to approach Torah. The bells served as a reminder to the kohein gadol, and indeed to all who heard them of the importance of derech eretz.
In an interesting variation, Rabbienu Bachye writes that the sound of the bells would act as a preamble to the tefillot of the kohein gadol to ensure that the prayers would be heard and accepted.
In praying for Bnei Yisroel, Aharon would wear the Choshen which had upon it the names of Bnei Yisroel. Its purpose was to remind Hashem of the merits of the forefathers of the tribes and to pray for a positive judgment. When Bnei Yisroel would hear the bells, they too would pray, and their prayers would join with those of Aharon Hakohein.
[Rebbetzin Smiles herself has been witness to other “bells” that arouse members of Bnei Yisroel to prayers. At times, a cab driver hired to bring others to the Kotel will himself approach the Kotel. Then he will call his wife on his cell phone. The ring will alert his wife to recite some Tehillim into her connected phone so that her prayers can rise up with other prayers from the Kotel.]
Rav Hirsch z”l explains the importance of the bells ringing when Aharon would exit the Sanctuary, for the effect of this meeting with Hakodosh Boruch Hu can only be gauged after he leaves. Explaining this, Rabbi Sternbach notes that when the kohein gadol leaves the Sanctuary, he must remember that he must take the holiness he has experienced with him and share it with Bnei Yisroel. This was the greatness of Avraham Avinu, writes Hoaderet Vehoemunah. Avraham Avinu had an extremely spiritual encounter with God when he bound his son Yitzchak as a sacrifice. Yet, when it was over, he went back to his people and continued the work positively and bring others closer to Hashem. This behavior contrasts with the behavior of Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai. He hid in a cave for twelve years as he fled the Romans. During that time he was completely spiritual, delving into the secrets of the Torah. When it was safe to leave, Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai could not understand how people were going about their physical lives planting fields instead of studying Torah all day. His gaze promptly burned the entire field. Hashem told him to go back to the cave, for he was not released to destroy God’s world. Great spiritual experiences are meant to enhance the existence of mankind, not to alienate man from his world and his people.
Along similar lines, Rabbi Schlesinger notes that a deep spiritual experience may keep you so wrapped up in the experience that you forget the world around you. As Aharon entered the Sanctuary, he could have forgotten about Bnei Yisroel. The bells were meant to rouse him so he would pray on behalf of Bnei Yisroel. He was meant to interact with his people, not to live a cloistered life.
But the high from a spiritual experience can become stale or routine. Therefore, it’s important to do something with it immediately and carry it through to its conclusion with the same passion as you started, whether it’s an act of chessed or prayer, writes Rabbi Weissblum in Heorat Derech. The challenge is to carry through the lessons from learning or the high of the experience so your body integrates the lessons and carries them forward into your home and your life. The purpose of learning, writes the Rambam to his son, is to see how you can put what you have learned into practice.
As we approach Shabbos, for example, let’s prepare with the proper clothes, with the table set, so that when Shabbat enters, we are ready to receive it. [The sirens in Israel at intervals before the onset of Shabbat may act as the bells of the kohein gadol, for we have to be ready to enter the peaceful service of Shabbat. CKS]
Any time you perform a mitzvah, a residual impression is left. Shabbat leaves an aura of sanctity which we must try to draw out to the coming week, writes Rabbi Schorr in Halekach Vehalebuv. How can we do that? The Netivot Shalom helps us by reminding us of Yaakov Avinu’s journey. The Netivot Shalom interprets the journey and Yaakov’s dream in homiletic terms. Yaakov left Be’er Sheva/ the well of the seven, alluding to the seventh day, Shabbat. From there he traveled to Charan, an allusion to charon af/anger that one experiences during the week. How does one bridge the gap between the two? By erecting a ladder, a sulam, to connect the heavenly Shabbat with the earth. This SuLaM is an acronym for Seudat Leviyah Malkah, the festive meal to escort the Queen Shabbat on her way at the close of Shabbat. By partaking in a melaveh Malkah, one takes the energy of Shabbat and connects it to the coming week. Like the bells on the kohein gadol’s robe, it reminds us of the sanctity and serenity of Shabbat, and enables us to fulfill the mitzvah of remembering Shabbat all week as we integrate the knowledge that Hashem, the Creator, is the Lord over heaven and earth, both in the serenity of Shabbat and in the darkness of the weekdays.
Hashem has given us the gift of sanctity in our homes and with Shabbat. These are our Sanctuaries today. While being grateful for these gifts, we must remain humble in His omnipresence and interact properly with Him and with others so that we integrate the sanctity of the image of God within each of us and make it the light that illuminates our lives.