I trust that Jews worldwide enjoyed a meaningful and memorable Passover with family and friends. Of course, no one could stop thinking of our brothers and sisters who have been held hostage in Gaza now for 18 months. We continue to pray for them to speedily enjoy their own anxiously awaited “season of freedom” and liberation.
After all the excitement of Passover, we now return to the weekly Torah readings; the portion this week is Shmini (Leviticus, Chapters 9-11). We read about Aaron, the brother of Moses, who was consecrated into his position as the nation’s very first high priest, the Kohen Gadol.
After Moses concluded the initiation service, it was time for Aaron to begin officiating over the sacrificial offerings in the sanctuary.
“And Moses said to Aaron, ‘Come near to the Altar and perform the services …’ ”
Why did Moses have to tell his brother to come near? The Torah scholar Rashi, quoting the Midrash, says that because Aaron inadvertently had a hand in the tragic Golden Calf episode, he felt unworthy and ashamed to approach the Altar. Moses, therefore, encouraged him by saying: “Why are you ashamed? For this, have you been chosen.”
The simple meaning is that Aaron was chosen by God to be the high priest and Moses was telling him that he must do his job regardless of feeling unfit for the position. But how did that set Aaron’s mind at ease?
There is a Chassidic interpretation that turns this verse on its head. When Moses said, “Why are you ashamed? For this have you been chosen,” he was telling his brother that the very reason he was chosen for the exalted position of Kohen Gadol was precisely because he felt ashamed. If he took it for granted that he was the right man for the job, then he would clearly be the wrong man. God desires humility and despises arrogance. By feeling ashamed and overwhelmed by such a high position, Aaron demonstrated that he was the perfect person for such a prominent position.
The Talmud writes that three characteristics have traditionally personified the Jewish people—compassion, bashfulness and benevolence (Yevamot, 79a). While you may know lots of Jews who appear rather forward and far from reticent, according to our sages, the hallmarks of the Jewish people are to be shy, humble and modest. Hubris and haughtiness should be foreign to us. We are not meant to take ourselves so seriously.
Rabbi Sholom Nelson was one of the first students to enrol in the Chabad-Lubavitch Yeshivah in New York when it was founded in 1940. In the early 1950s, the Lubavitcher Rebbe—Rabbi Menachem Mendel Schneerson—encouraged him to study shechita, kosher slaughter, and to become a qualified ritual slaughterer. But he resisted the idea, feeling that he was unworthy of such a position, as it demands a high degree of knowledge and piety. The Rebbe’s response was: “The very fact that you feel unworthy proves that you are most worthy of being a shochet.”
We live in a mad world where social media rules, where those who shout the loudest are all too often the most powerful, and the quiet voice of truth often goes unheard. “The lies are always loud, and the truth is always quiet,” goes the old folk saying.
In the book of 1 Kings, the Prophet Elijah experiences a Divine revelation. There is wind, an earthquake and a fire. But he is told, “God is not in the wind … not in the earthquake … and not in the fire.” Only afterward does Elijah hear “the still, soft voice” (Kings 1, 19:12). This is the true word of God. Indeed, this phrase, “the still, soft voice,” has made its way into the famous Unetaneh Tokef prayer, which is a highlight of the Mussaf service on Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. God is Almighty, even if His voice is still and soft.
I remember hearing someone coaching a debater and telling him, “When your point is weak, shout like hell!” The quiet voice of truth is authentic. The shouters must shout because their arguments have no basis in fact or logic.
Aaron was the most suited man for the role of high priest precisely because he was soft and humble. May we never need to shout.
Let it be our character, humility and honorable conduct that make us truly worthy.