5785 Parshat Tzav Dvar Torah by Rabbi Mendy Eisenberg

As we are now up to Parshat Tzav, a parsha that primarily discusses offerings—a topic that can seem to be totally unrelated to our lives—it can be easy to just overlook the parsha in favor of addressing the elephant in the room, Pesach, which begins this motza'ei shabbos, but I want to argue that Parshat Tzav holds the key to making the Pesach Seder infinitely more meaningful. 

Parshat Tzav addresses certain details about korbanot, the gifts that were to be given to the kohanim almost as a payment for their services in the Mishkan, and the inaugural kohanic services. It also gives an interesting detail to the procedures of the simple maintenance of the Mishkan upkeep, something most people simply overlook. If the Mishkan or Beit Hamikdash were around today, for example, one could imagine that there would be some sort of system for applying for worker's comp, just in case a kohen’s knife wielding went south, or that some people would be assigned as the resident vet for the animals awaiting approval for korbanot. Additionally, with all the sacrifices that took place in the Mishkan in just a single day, one could imagine the immense buildup of ash waste that surrounded the mizbeach, and someone would need to clean it up. I would have thought that this cleaning would be a job assigned to one of the kohanim who showed up late for the temple service that day; he would be assigned to stay late after everyone else had gone home already, would have to remove his special Bigdei Kahuna—kohanic vestments—and he would have to clean out all the ash. All it would take is one time being assigned this job and he would never be late again. However, this is not at all how the cleaning of the ashes went down.

As a matter of fact, the ashes that were left over remained burning all night (which, according to a Gemara in Berachot, is why Maariv can be said all night). The very first avodah of the day, a very coveted job, was called the Terumat HaDeshen, often referred to as the removal of the ash, but more accurately translates to the lifting up of the ash. Not only is this a coveted job that the kohanim used to fight bitterly over (Mishnayot Mesechet Yoma 2), they needed to get dressed in their bigdei kahuna in order to perform it. Their attitude toward this task inspires some obvious questions. Wouldn't it seem to make more sense that this job is the worst job to be stuck with, especially at the end of the day? And, why leave the mess until the morning? I know how annoyed I would be if I came to my classroom in the morning and it looked the way my talmidim left it the day before, so why push it off, and why is this job so sought after?

As a rebbe, I often get to hear my talmidim ask amazing theological questions. Their questions always lead to the most amazing discussions and they often seem to walk away with a newfound appreciation for some aspect of their Judaism. The only reason that I feel at all equipped to handle these heavy discussions about the meaning of life with young, impressionable students while being so young, myself, is that as amazing as some of their questions are, none of the questions that they are asking are new. While the particulars of the details may vary to match their life experiences and the societal rules and expectations of today, all of their questions are either questions I've been thinking about for years myself, or are ones I have heard my friends ask during class when I was in high school. Moreover, as I have been learning now for a number of years, I have also realized that the rabbis have been addressing these questions for years, too. This realization has really opened my eyes and reminds me that there was something before me, and there will be something after me, as well. Now, we can understand the value of the mitzvah of the Terumat HaDeshen: the Terumat HaDeshen is so important, and holds the crown as the very first avodah of the day in the Mishkan, because we need to start off our day knowing that there was a yesterday. We need to remember that no matter what we see today, someone has seen it before. We cannot begin today’s service without acknowledging yesterday’s.

The Seder Table—next to Kol Nidrei (and stomach ailments)—is the most widely practiced Jewish tradition, one that has lasted for thousands of years. Seders are filled with all sorts of laws and customs that have been in the family for generations. Many of any Jew’s—orthodox or otherwise—fondest memories will be from the Pesach Seder of their youth. The observance of the Pesach Seder, like the Terumat HaDeshen, reminds us of the value of remembering that there was a time before today. Only by remembering the beauty of yesterday can one confidently walk around today and know with certainty that there will be a tomorrow. May we all experience the new beauty that Pesach can bring to our lives, while valuing the beauty of the Pesachs of our past.