Chazal teach us that in the Bais Ha’Mikdash, ouhv rjt lkuv vkhkv, “the night goes after the day.” In contrast, outside of the Sanctuary, the day follows the night. Consequently, the Korban Olah burns all night until day break, which is the beginning of a new day. This halachah embodies the disparity between the sanctity of the Sanctuary and life in the “outside world.”
Horav Nissan Alpert, zl, explains this phenomenon homiletically. Night is the time of ambiguity, when things are unsure, when clarity of vision is obscured. In the olam ha’gashmi, corporeal world, night precedes day. For instance, when man sows a field, the outcome is unclear: Will the field produce crops? How much must man go through, how much doubt and confusion, how much uncertainty and skepticism does one encounter in this world? The worry and fear of what the future has in store for us is overpowering. Indeed, Yaakov Avinu prayed for the future. He sought Hashem’s assurance that he would have sustenance.
Yet, in this world – night precedes day. Moreover, even when one has accomplished and reached that moment of “daybreak,” he is still anxious about the future. Will he keep what he has amassed? Will he survive to enjoy the achievements of his worldly endeavors? Indeed, one who is involved in the material/physical world, who places his focus on gashmius, is weighed down with the ambiguity of what the future might bring. This uncertainty is expressed in the dictum of vkhkv rjt lkuv ouhv, the day follows the night. The night overwhelms and obscures the radiance of the day.
This is not the case in one who has established his home in the Sanctuary. His trust in the Almighty preserves him. He knows no fear, for his hope is in Hashem Who will protect him at every turn. The power of emunah, faith in Hashem, is so remarkable that it brings “daylight” to the darkness of night. The glimmering rays of hope penetrate even the heaviest and most obscure darkness. In the Sanctuary, the night truly follows the day.
