ייִדישער מחשבֿה אויף במדבר 10:9

Because prayer is service of the heart, we have connected the chapter on prayer with the chapter on the olah, total offering. As an olah is an offering that "rises" towards G'd in its entirety, since the whole of the animal is being offered on the altar, so is prayer an offering of the heart which rises toward Heaven in its entirety. When our sages describe prayer without concentrating on its meaning, as being comparable to a body without soul, they mean that the warmth of feeling generated by genuine prayer, parallels the ongoing fire on the altar that burns the olah. In Vayikra Rabbah 7, Rabbi Pinchas notes that the Torah does not describe the fire on the altar as being "on" the altar. The Torah does not require that the "fire on the altar burn on it," rather it does say “aysh hamizbeach tukad bo," the fire on the altar shall burn within it, meaning that the entire altar should be permeated by it. (Leviticus 6,2) So our hearts are to be permeated by the outpouring of our prayers. The Talmud Berachot 32, tells us that we have to arrange the praise of the Lord before proceeding with voicing our requests from Him. Since the requests concern mostly our temporal needs, our sages (Shabbat 10) describe the supplicant as someone who temporarily abandons his concern with the values of the world to come, in favour of the mundane needs of this world he lives in at the time. If this is so, the opinion held by many, (including Maimonides chapter one hilchot tefillah ) which claims that prayer has been legislated by the Torah, is hard to understand. If the purpose of prayer would be exhausted by our asking for our needs, why should it matter to G'd whether we ask for them or not? We should be entitled to forego the opportunity to ask G'd for His kindness, assistance, etc. However, just as we have described the institution of sacrifice as designed to arouse certain emotions within us which will bring us closer to G'd, so prayer, by means of the trust we express when we ask Him for our needs, will bring us closer to Him. The conviction that He cares, that His Providence watches over us, all this helps to strengthen the existing ties between us and the Creator. The thanks we express for what He has done for us and for others, all help to cement our relationship with hashem. The early Chassidim, men of piety and devoutness, are described by the Talmud Berachot 32, as having prepared for prayer an hour ahead of time, and as having spent another hour winding down from the spiritual high achieved during prayer, before returning to the mundane tasks in their lives. Actually, they did exactly what our sages have since built into the formal liturgy that we follow nowadays. The hymns of praise, keriyat shema, are our introduction and preparation for prayer, i.e. the part during which we voice our requests. On the other hand, we are told that he who fails to enunciate the keriyat shema audibly, has failed in his purpose, since the praise of G'd and our assuming the yoke of Heaven are to be made known to our fellow men. On the other hand, he who raises his voice during the supplication part of the prayer service, is described as lacking in faith, as a prophet of the ido Baal. (Berachot 24) Channah already demonstrated that requests need not be aired audibly. If the High Priest Eli considered her as a drunken woman, this was not because she did not raise her voice in prayer, but because she had chosen a time of day he did not consider suitable for offering up prayer. (compare Samuel I chapter 1) He watched her closely to find out what she had to say to him, since most other women milling around the entrance of the tabernacle always spoke to him. Understanding Eli's error, she told him that her remarks were addressed to Him who does not need audible expression of her words in order to be able to hear and understand them. Since Channah came to the tabernacle after having dined, it was natural for Eli to have misconstrued her purpose, and to have judged same by outward appearances. In fact, one must not raise one's voice, so as not to create the impression that one considers G'd hard of hearing. When Ishmael was close to death, (Genesis 21,17) G'd considered his state of being "as he was then," not the loudness of his prayers. The mental anguish that he was suffering at that moment was the decisive element that led to his rescue. On the other hand, all those paragraphs in the liturgy that teach us knowledge and comprehension have to be recited aloud. "Hear O Israel!"- these words we have to hear with our own ears; they are directed both at ourselves and at our fellow Jews.

The upshot of all this (David's outpourings in Psalm 119) is that mitzvah performance must become as automatic to us as life itself. Therefore, the Mishnah in Avot 3, 10, says that "whosoever forgets part of his studies has sinned gravely," since the Torah has provided memory joggers. The word "Talmud" in that Mishnah refers to knowledge of the commandments and their performance. Unless a person has tried and failed to remember, he is guilty of a sin. If he did the latter, he is subject to the saving grace of pen yassuru mi -levavcha, lest they depart from your heart, as long as he did not contribute to forgetting them. (Deut. 4,9) G-d lays tefillin, phylacteries, or created the rainbow, so that His memory should be jogged by visible symbols. If, in the words of the Midrash, it is good enough for Him to jog His memory, it is certainly incumbent upon us to do so. The concept of "G-d’s Torah is perfect," (Psalms 119,8) implies that the law of G-d is beyond blemish at any time in history; nothing in it can therefore be devoid of purpose at any time. This is so even if the application of a particular commandment is restricted to certain individuals such as priests. Even the occurrence of a million to one shot such as a ben sorer umoreh, an obstinate gluttonous teenager whose parents take him to Court to be executed, or a commandment which by definition could only be performed once in history in the desert, has significance far beyond that unique opportunity to perform it. David assures us in the first of the Psalms that he who truly desires Torah and studies same, is like a tree securely planted next to a never failing water supply. Such a tree will not wilt etc. If this is true of the person who studies Torah, how much more must Torah itself be meaningful in all its details. This is the reason that the mitzvot of the tabernacle and priestly garments which are of limited duration, emphasize again and again "it is an eternal statute in front of Me forever," or the use of the word tzav. The Talmud in Kiddushin 29, states that any commandment associated with the word tzav is a commandment that applies forever. Examination of those laws reveals that there are many instances where this rule simply does not stand up in the light of history. We must understand the Talmud to mean that though the details of the commandments in question helped us fulfil them at times when they proved physically capable of fulfilment, we derive the major benefit from these commandments through the lessons we learn from the concepts that these mitzvot represent. It is these concepts that remain valid forever. This is the meaning of Deuteronomy 29,8, "observe the words of the covenant, carry them out so that you will gain insights from all that you do." Similarly Deut.4,6, "it is your wisdom and your insight." Unfortunately, as the Rambam already observes in his "Moreh," most people never concern themselves with such matters and want to get close to the king without ever having seen the king's palace, as it were. Granted that performance of the mitzvah, since it is G-d’s command, is praiseworthy. Nevertheless it is far from the ultimate that we are capable of achieving. Whatever the tabernacle teaches is as relevant today as ever, just as basic concepts do not lose their relevance because they cannot always be applied instantly. If the Torah commands that we help an enemy load his beast, thereby teaching important moral lessons, these lessons do not lose their relevance because we have no enemies or because we never encountered an enemy in circumstances where this commandment could be performed. David says in Psalms 51, 19, "the (real) sacrifice to G-d is a broken spirit." It is the spirit in which G-d is approached that matters. The Talmud Menachot 106, explains the verse in Leviticus 7,37, "this is the teaching of the Torah concerning the total offering, the gift offering and the peace offering," as meaning that he who labours studying the laws of these offerings, does not actually have to bring them in order to achieve the personality development that these offerings are meant to help us achieve. The idea is that just as performance plays its part in awakening the mind to what, why and how one is doing, so the study of the laws pertaining to these observances accomplishes the same thing. We should not therefore bemoan earlier times when through the performance of mitzvot such as yovel, the Jubilee year, we could come closer to G-d. Let us look now at the "memory" element surrounding the commandments of the priestly vestments. Concerning the ephod, apron it states "Aaron should wear the names of the children of Israel before G-d on his shoulders as remembrance." Concerning the choshen, the breastplate, we find a similar quote. A similar purpose is common to all the priestly garments. Clothing as such is symbolic of acquired traits. Already in the wording of the commandments there is a reference to the concepts of midot, character traits, which we discussed at the beginning of this chapter. (Leviticus 6,3) mido bad; or in Judges 3, 16, "under his madim;” or in Psalms 133,2, "descending according to midotav." So we observe the term midah being used for garments, illustrating the essential nature of garments, at least when worn by priests. The first impression that one receives when meeting another person is that of the clothes he wears. It suggests his occupation, certain of his behavioral traits etc. Even our prophets in praising the Lord, use the simile " You are garbed in Splendour." (Psalms 104, 1) Or, "resplendent in His garments" (Isaiah 63, 1) Secondly, people wear different sets of clothing for the Sabbath and weekdays. Even in ancient times, Esau had "his precious clothes" (Genesis 27, 15) or (Ruth 3,3) Ruth who put special garments for a special occasion. By wearing different clothing on the Sabbath, every Jew signals that he assumes different character traits on the Sabbath. In Hilchot Derech Eretz, the halachah stipulates that ordinary clothing be worn for the performance of mundane tasks, whereas festive clothing should be worn when performing mitzvot between man and His Maker. This is the meaning of Isaiah chapter 58. Compare also chapter 63. Thirdly, just as man is never completely nude, so he is never completely devoid of mitzvot. Therefore, all of Israel, priests and ordinary Israelites alike, have the duty to be garbed in special garments. This is why a whole nation is referred to as a kingdom of priests, to imbue all garments with a reminder of the symbolic significance of garments as such. Therefore, the Torah says in connection with the tzitzit, fringes, "when you see it, you will remember the commandments" (Numbers 15,39). "A garment adorned with tzitzit will remind you of all the commandments of G-d to carry them out, ibid." Whenever white garments are mentioned by our sages, it refers to the moral condition of the wearer of such garments. For instance, we have the parable of the king who invites his servants to partake of a meal in his palace without specifying the date and hour the meal is to take place. The intelligent servants remained within the vicinity of the king’s palace, saying that it would be foolish to roam around elsewhere since they had no urgent business elsewhere. The foolish ones carried on business as usual, citing as their reason that they would not receive any food for which they had not worked. Suddenly, the king issued a summons for his servants to attend the party. The intelligent ones entered the palace suitably attired, whereas the foolish servants arrived dirty and dishevelled. The king was well pleased with the first group, of course, but was very angry at the second group. Therefore, he seated the first group and left the second group to remain standing and watch the others partake of the feast. This is how Rabbi Meir's son-in-law explained the following verse in Isaiah 65, 13, "My sons will eat, and you will starve; My sons will drink, but you will remain thirsty." Another version explains the meaning of Kohelet 9,8, "at all times your garments should be white, and oil should be on your head," as referring to tzitzit and tefillin respectively. The Aggadah in Baba Batra 74, concerning the meal of the righteous in the future, featuring salted meat of the female leviathan and well aged wine, may also be understood allegorically as referring to the garments worn by the tzaddikim in their lifetime, namely Torah and Mitzvot. More about this Aggadah in chapter 60.

To come back to our opening Midrash. Rabbi Menachem is concerned with the arguments of those who ask to see the evidence of reward and punishment. He points to our Parshah as proof that there is such visible evidence. Rabbi Hunna addresses himself to those who deny a system of reward and punishment altogether, and points out that our Parshah implies that life would not make sense at all unless there was such a thing as reward and punishment. Rabbi Chiyah addresses himself to another aspect of the blessings and curses in our Parshah.