In 'halachic’ parlance this is called kavanah—the intent
to perform a commandment properly and in the best possible way. That is the
story of the pure container of oil that is the core of the miraculous story of
Chanukah. The Hasmoneans could have used regular, even impure oil and still not
have violated any strong ‘halachic’ stricture. Yet the idea of kavanah,
of acting in the best way possible, introduces an element of special dedication
and holiness into what otherwise would be a matter of routine. This is what
drives the spirit of holiness and eternity that accompanies the performance of mitzvot.
Thus the requirement of the Torah for the purest possible oil to fuel the holy
menorah is readily understandable when kavanah is factored in.
The light of the menorah has never been dimmed over the long
history of the Jewish people. Though the menorah itself has long ago
disappeared from the view of the Jewish public—it was not even present in
Second Temple times—the idea of its light and influence has continued throughout
Jewish life.
The flame is not a tangible item. Rather, it is a matter of
spirit, not substance. It provides light, warmth and psychological support in
very difficult times. Yet its influence and support is somehow directly
connected to the investment in kindling it. That is the import of the words of
the rabbis in Avot that according to the effort invested, so is the reward.
All things spiritual depend on the effort invested in
creating that sense of spirit: the purer the oil, the brighter and firmer the
flame. This simple yet profound message forms the heart of this week's parsha.
It also forms the heart of all values and commandments that the Torah ordains
for us.
Tetzaveh speaks to all of us in a direct and personal
fashion. It encompasses all of Judaism’s goals and is, in itself the
light of spirituality that illuminates our souls and lives.
Shabbat shalom, Rabbi Berel Wein
