Our Fire will not be Extinguished: Parashat Tetzaveh

The latter half of Exodus, for many of us, is not the most exciting section of the Torah. Our inspirational journey out of Egypt occurred earlier in the book and we received the Ten Commandments shortly afterward. The remaining Torah portions cover, of all things, the building of the Tabernacle — God’s dwelling place among the Israelites.

I’ll be real for a second. I’m in rabbinical school, and theoretically I am supposed to find the depth and beauty in all segments of our Torah. Despite that, it would be a lie for me to say that this part, talking about sashes and tunics with a Leviticus-esque garnish of animal sacrifice, is the easiest part of the Torah from which to glean meaning.

But let’s do it anyway. Because often, despite the difficulties inherent in texts like this, we can find gems of wisdom in them.

In particular, I’d like to dwell on a word that comes up over and over again in this portion. I’m talking about the verb “hiktir,” which means approximately, “to cause something to go up in smoke.” It is used, here and elsewhere, to describe what happens to animals when they are sacrificed to God — they go up in smoke.

That idea might be challenging for English-speakers. I say that, because idiomatically, “it all went up in smoke” implies that something disappeared. If one says “all my work went up in smoke,” they mean that it somehow became void, or meaningless.

But the Israelites clearly did not believe that causing an animal to go up in smoke was meaningless (it’s not easy for me to say that, as a vegetarian). The smoke that came with their sacrifice signified a kind of holy channel — not a disappearance or vanishing of existence.

All right. So why does any of that matter, especially in an IfNotNow context? It matters because, consciously and subconsciously, we in IfNotNow utilize fire all the time. The main theme of one of our movement’s anthems (Aish Tamid) is that our fire will not be extinguished (Lo Tichbeh, Lo Tichbeh). A flame is our logo, presented to the world as an ongoing symbol of what it looks like to fight for justice in our time.

In other words, we understand that our idiomatic English phrase — equating “to go up in smoke” with “to become null” — might not tell the whole story. We recognize that smoke and fire can warm us, provide light, and play a crucial role in the betterment of our world.

All I’m saying, based on Parashat Tetzaveh this week, is that the Israelites of the book of Exodus knew that as well! Every time we sing Aish Tamid, we invoke their implicit teaching, that fire is and can be at the root of holiness.

So I won’t pretend that these sections of the Torah surrounding the construction of a building and the sacrifice of animals are fun. But I will argue, over and over again, that they have a ton to teach us. My hope, for our movement and our world, is that texts like this can light a fire in our collective belly. And that they can help us build a world of freedom and dignity for all.