Parshas Tetzaveh 5784
There is something unnerving about the notion of backroom politics. We’d like to believe that elected officials simply take the podium in front of their colleagues, speak their conscience about policies they’d like to see instituted on behalf of their constituents, and, after some debate and conversations, votes for or against are cast. But things are not so simple. There are negotiations—some above board, many undoubtedly not—that take place behind closed doors to curry favor, drum up support, and pledge to “scratch your back if you scratch mine”. It’s the backroom where the real action happens.
And it’s not just true in Washington. It’s true on Har HaBayis as well.
The Gemara in Yoma 44a makes an interesting comment about the ketores—the incense whose service is described in Parshas Tetzaveh—and the unique impact it has in the negotiating process with the Almighty. Whereas lashon hara can serve to unravel the entirety of our relationship with Hashem—indeed, the Chofetz Chaim notes that lashon hara is the specific sin referred to when the Rabbis identified baseless hatred as the reason for which the Bais Hamikdash was destroyed—it is the ketores that serves as the focal point of the backroom negotiation that restores the bond.
Why does the Ketores of all things possess this unusual ability? Precisely because it is a significant feature of the backroom. Or, as the Gemara puts it, “יבא דבר שבחשאי ויכפר על מעשה חשאי—Let that which is done in secrecy atone for that which is done in secrecy.” The ketores, burned in the interior of the Sanctuary, uproots the sin of gossip, slander, and other forms of improper speech which are also typically shared in secret whispers.
Why should this be so? Why is the private nature of the two acts any more meaningful than just a happenstance similarity? What is the significance of the secrecy the ketores and lashon hara share in common?
As opposed to the secretive conversations held by power brokers and policy makers, the goings on of the inner sanctum of the Bais Hamikdash is common knowledge. Hashem describes in the Torah exactly what will take place behind the closed doors of the Sanctuary. Despite the ketores being a service that only Kohanim may perform, everyone else is fully aware that it takes place, despite it being shielded from the public view.
Which is exactly the point. We are meant to be aware of the private enclaves of the Bais HaMikdash because we are meant to think of those areas are no less important as the public spaces. When it comes to holiness and sanctity, we do not consider less significant that which we do not see.
Do we hold ourselves and our own holiness to the same standard?
In public, we want to be seen as charitable and generous. We want others to see us as baalei chesed, as someone people can rely upon in times of need. Does that chesed extend to the private domain as well? What is the determination to refrain from lashon hara if not a commitment to act charitably with our words? To be generous in our assessment of others? To ensure that the sanctity and kindness that we radiate in public is equally present in private?
Can we condition ourselves to equate public and private in our own behavior no less than we do in the arena of the Bais Hamikdash? Not that “I’m really a generous person, but I’m ruthless in business”. Not that “I’m sensitive towards the needs of others, I just make outrageous demands of my employees”. Not that “I’m kind and sweet, but I scream at my kids when nobody’s watching”. And not that, “My heart is wide open for chessed, but only in public action, not in private speech.”
We daven three times a day for the restoration of the Bais Hamikdash. All of it, in its entirety. Inside and outside, private and public. When it comes to holy spaces we want things full and complete. If we want to be holy people, we must expect the same of ourselves.