Mar 3/07 — Parashat Tetzaveh

Commentary by Chazzan Aníbal Mass

In a Yeshiva, a teacher noticed how his best student came late to daven (pray) in the morning and sometimes didn’t show up at all. The teacher decided to speak to the young man and said to him, “I’m surprised at how often you have been coming late to minyan recently.” The student answered, “I would love to come to minyan on time, but I know of a woman who has several children, and each morning as I am about to leave for minyan, I hear the children crying. One needs a bottle, another needs to be sent to school and a third needs breakfast. There’s no one else that can help this woman, so I must do it myself. At times I can still manage to make it to minyan at the Yeshiva, but other times I go to a later minyan elsewhere.” The teacher was surprised and touched by the young man’s behaviour, but he also felt sorry for the young woman. He asked his student, “Who is the woman? Is she widowed or divorced? I would also like to help her out.” The young man replied, “Oh no, chas veshalom! (God forbid!) The woman is my wife!”

My friends, after reading this story, I thought of how Judaism asks us to perfect different aspects of our lives so that we might better interact with our fellow human beings. Even more, wise King Solomon, in the Book of Proverbs, says: “Who pursues charity and goodness, receives from God life and honours”.

However, I wonder why people often run to do acts of kindness for someone else. Why do people find it necessary to run away from home to do favours? Goodness and kindness should begin inside our homes. There are so many opportunities for a husband, a wife, a mother or father, and even our brothers and sisters to do just one act of kindness for the other. It’s just that we forget about those people who love us and who are the closest to us.

We often see tremendously kind people participating actively in diverse activities of public service, community work, and so on. Interestingly, sometimes their households are in chaos because they overlook the need to perform acts of kindness toward their own families so they can do so outside their homes.

My friends, in this week’s Parashah we learn about the golden Menorah that must illuminate the Sacred Temple. And we read that the oil that must serve as fuel for this Menorah should be pure, without sediment.

Our Sages compared the Menorah with our own lives. As the Menorah was made of pure gold, we should be whole. As the Menorah burned with pure oil without sediment, we should perfect our lives and our virtues, until they are pure, without the sediment of wickedness.

It is here that we make the mistake of thinking that the light we should give is only for others, not for our own loved ones. It is true that the light of the Temple was meant to illuminate the world, but first it illuminated the Kohen so that he could perform his tasks inside the room.

We pride ourselves on efficiently contributing our skills to the growth of our workplace. We study and get ready to do it. But meanwhile, we take away time from our families. Sometimes we stop demonstrating our love to our partners, participating in the education of our children, etc. because we are too busy with things outside our homes.

In the end, we shine outside, but forget that we should shine inside first. It is inconceivable to see people who are dedicated to helping others with all their energy while their families are in crisis.

My friends, the Parashah this week teaches us to light the Menorah in our lives with pure oil without sediment. It encourages us to grow in our lives and illuminate others with our light. But our Sages remind us that this obligation begins fundamentally with our family, with our partners, with our children, who perhaps need our light more than anybody else.

May we all take this message to heart and perform not just one, but many acts of kindness, both in and out of our homes.

Shabbat Shalom.