OPERATION OLIVE OIL: PARSHAT TETZAVEH
Shira Smiles shiur 2024/5784
Adapted by Channie Koplowitz Stein
In Parshat Tetzaveh Hashem
continues with the instructions on building the Mishkan, its vessels, and its
accouterments. While the instructions for fashioning the menorah were given in Parshat
Terumah, this parshah begins with the instructions for the oil to be used
in lighting the menorah. While any oil will serve as fuel, Hashem instructs
Bnei Yisroel "to take... pure, pressed olive oil for illumination, to
kindle the lamp continually."
Interestingly, although there
are many beautiful and pleasant trees, the Prophet Yirmiyahu compares Bnei
Yisroel to an olive tree. Indeed, the medrash explains, as our verse states,
that olives are different from other fruit, in that they are picked, beaten,
then taken to be crushed by huge stones until they finally give forth their
oil. So, too, continues the medrash, are Bnei Yisroel beaten and crushed again
and again until they do teshuvah and Hashem answers them.
Medrash Rabbah offers
additional, specific comparisons of olive oil to Bnei Yisroel. Just as olive
oil remains separate and does not intermingle with other liquids, so too does
Bnei Yisroel remain separate from other nation and does not intermarry. Further,
when one tries to mix olive oil with other liquids, the olive oil always rises
to the top. So, to, when Bnei Yisroel follows the ways of Hashem, they stand
supreme over all the other nations on earth.
The Sifsei Da'as
notes, the Torah uses the passive voice in the commandment not to intermarry.
Therefore, it is more of a promise that you will not intermarry with the other
nations, for, as Rabbi Sorotskin zt”l adds, even if you do intermarry, you will
never become part of them. Like the olive tree, teaches Rabbi Schlesinger,
whose branch cannot be grafted onto a tree of a different species the Jew
cannot become part of another nation. The innermost soul of a Jew remains pure,
the "pintele Yid" is never destroyed. When that identity is most
grievously challenged, the Jewish soul rises to the top. Through the challenges
and the distress, the pure Jewish soul emerges, like the purest oil from the
pressed olive. Our tremendous potential is hidden deep within us, waiting to be
extracted. Through the challenges and the distress, we extract the innate
goodness hidden deep within us.
Other nations have also been
challenged and oppressed. They have disappeared from history. Only Bnei Yisroel
gets stronger, for the verse proclaims, אתם נצבים/you stand upright, your spine is strengthened through the
challenges. We are also compared to stars, reminds us Rabbi Druck, for they too
are often hidden, only visible within the darkness
Rabbi Weinberger zt”l notes
that the three characteristics of olive oil are parallel to three distinct
groups of Jews. First those that are completely unaffiliated and do not wish to
identify as Jews. Nevertheless, when antisemitism rears its ugly head, their
Jewishness takes root and they remain separate from the gentiles. Then there
are those Jews who, although they do not practice Torah Judaism, nevertheless
would never consider intermarrying and becoming intermixed with the gentiles.
Finally, the third group are those Torah true Jews who remain completely
separate and rise above all others.
We are all composed of two
parts, our physical, material bodies, the seat of the yetzer horo, and
our spiritual souls. These two aspects of our selves are in constant conflict,
writes Rabbi Noach Chafetz zt”l in Chalon Lateivah. Our mission is
to allow the light and fire of the neshamah to rule over the physical body.
While that fire is never extinguished, sometimes it requires fanning or
additional fire to burn brightly. When we ourselves provide that fire, we need
need not be provided with outside fuel and hardships to fan the flames of our
neshamah.
There is another difference
between the olive and other fruit, points out Rabbi Eisenberger in Mesillot
Bilvovom. When you squeeze other fruit, the liquid comes out as the same
entity, albeit in liquid rather than solid form. It has no additional purpose.
The "juice" that is extracted from the olive, on the other hand, has
a special use beyond that of being a food product. That "juice," the
oil, serves another purpose, to provide light. And the only way to access that
new entity with its new purpose is through pressure. You need to go through the
process to get the light.
To provide light is the hidden
power within the olive. A Jew also has a great light within him, but it is
hidden behind the physical body, writes the Slonimer Rebbe zt”l in Netivot
Shalom. Only by breaking through the allegorical physical skin can we see
and access the Godly light within ourselves. This light is part of the primal
light of creation, a light that is also hidden within the flames of the
menorah. When the kohain lit the menorah, he also ignited the light within each
of us.
How do we access this light
today, without the menorah of the Mishkan and the Beit Hamikdosh? That light is
also the light of Shabbat, a light that illuminates the face so that it is not
the same as his weekday face. [Parenthetically, a sheva brachot
celebrated on Shabbat does not require a new guest, just a new face. The
Shabbat transformation on one's face fills the requirement of a new face.] On
Shabbat we also break the shackles of the physical to enter the sanctity of the
spiritual. Entering Shabbat in the proper frame of mind requires breaking away
from the thoughts and actions of the physical world. As the Medrash tells us,
Hashem had a beautiful gift in His treasure house, the gift of Shabbat, that He
presented to Bnei Yisroel. That hidden treasure is the hidden primal light
Hashem stored in His treasure house for the righteous. We are tasked with
destroying the darkness of the yetzer horo of Amalek and bring down the pure,
original light of creation.
Just as an olive can transform
itself from being a mere fruit to an instrument that brings light to the world,
so can a body remain completely physical, or can transform itself into a
spiritual entity, writes Rabbi Eisenberger. Just as an olive requires pressure,
not just breaking it, to be transformed into light producing oil, so do we
require pushing ourselves to transform ourselves into spiritual, light
producing beings.
So why are we compared to the
olive tree instead of to the olive oil itself? Here lies the key, writes Rabbi
Walkin zt”l. We are not focused only on the end result, but on the process, for
it is the process, the struggles, the challenges and the pressure that make us
who we are. In the Torah world, Hashem rewards us for our effort, not for the
results. We are born for the struggle, for that is how we build ourselves,
writes Rabbi Shternbach, and we are rewarded for that struggle.
People approach life as they
approach an olive. Some will always enjoy the olive itself without ever probing
its deeper essence. They may do all the mitzvoth and recite all the brachot
without ever searching for the deeper meaning and the light within, teaches
Rabbi Levenstein zt”l. We need to work on ourselves to reveal the inner light,
the messages of the mitzvoth, not limit ourselves to enjoying only the obvious
benefit.
It is only the crushed,
pressed olive oil that is worthy of fueling the light of the menorah. Like the
olive, the human heart has all this goodness within, knowledge, insight,
wisdom, compassion, but it is all locked within, like a house without any windows.
We came into this world with perfection, only to have these characteristics
closed off when Adam ate of the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil. Our habits
and routines have deadened the fire and the fear of Hashem within us. We need
to peel off the outer layers, to open the windows and let the outside pressure
in to push out the wonderful qualities within us.
We tend to go about our lives
unaware of the possibilities or pitfalls of life. As Rabbi Weiss notes, citing
Rabbi Yerucham Levovitz zt”l, a person born in the concentration camp could not
imagine a life of freedom. Likewise, a person living a successful life in
Europe prior to World War II could not imagine a life of imprisonment. We are
living a life of imprisonment. Having been raised in an egocentric world, we
are unaware of the greatness of the life within us.
Compare this to the olive
growing contentedly on the tree. Life is beautiful, and it believes nothing can
be better. Then he's plucked from that idyllic life, pounded and crushed, and
becomes the great olive oil. Within us lies similar greatness that can be
accessed only through great difficulty.
When Yaakov Avinu approaches
Esau, his message is, "עם לבן גרתי.../I have
lived with Lavan... and I have arrived here."Yaakov is not just saying
that he survived his time with Lavan, but that precisely through the challenges
of living with Lavan that he grew to become the tzadik that he was.
In a similar vein, Rav Hutner
zt”l interprets the verse in Mishlei/Proverbs, that a tzadik falls seven
times and rises, for a tzadik rises to that level of righteousness precisely
because he fell seven times and struggled each time to rise above, building his
character each time.
We are all meant to be in the
process of refining ourselves to become symbolic olive oil. The Netivot
Shalom challenges us to find the negative trait within ourselves that is
constantly rearing its head. That is the trait we are meant to work on, to
pound and crush until we remove it and reveal the beauty within our souls. Like
the olive, our growth and beauty lies in transforming ourselves through the
process, welcoming the challenges and using them for inspiration and growth.