In previous exhortations concerning the korbanos, offerings, the mitzvah was introduced either with the word daber, speak, or amarta, say. Why does the Torah use the more emphatic term, tzav, command, regarding the Korban Olah, Elevation/Burnt offering? Chazal explain that the more emphatic term is used here to urge the Kohanim to be especially zealous in performing this service; and to ensure that this enjoinment be repeated and emphasized constantly throughout future generations. Rabbi Shimon adds that this exhortation is especially relevant to those commandments that involve a monetary loss, such as the Korban Olah from which the Kohanim received none of the meat. The entire animal is burnt, leaving nothing for the owner or the Kohen. Maharal explains that for the Kohen this was especially taxing, since the meat he received from the korbanos was his livelihood. Although he received the hide of the Korban Olah, this was hardly sufficient to compensate for his loss. Other commentators suggest that the financial loss applies to other offerings and aspects of the Temple Service.
We will focus not on the actual emphasis, but on the need to place this emphasis – almost ritualistically – for the future generations. Once it was mentioned that emphasis be placed on the Kohen’s alacrity to serve (see Rashi 6:2), it goes without saying that this exhortation is not a one-time command, but part of the future process of offering the Korban Olah. The commentators explain that everything novel inspires one to go out of his way in carrying out the command diligently, with vigor and alacrity. After all, it is the first time, and he is excited. This is especially true if he derives personal pleasure as a fringe benefit. Satisfaction, pleasure, and financial remuneration are all powerful motivators. As time goes on and the activity loses much of its allure, the fringe benefits diminish and he becomes accustomed to it. Thus, the inspiration he has received from the activity slowly dissipates and, finally, becomes non-existent. The Korban Olah presents a special challenge to the Kohen. It is a mitzvah that is l’doros, for all generations. It involves chisaron kis, monetary loss. There are no fringe benefits that might encourage a more favorable attitude toward the service. In other words, this mitzvah needs special encouragement.
One might think that the enjoinment to have the fire burn on the Mizbayach applies to the korban. No, the Torah is speaking to the Kohen – exhorting him to maintain his fervor, his passion, his “fire,” so that the original hislahavus, enthusiasm/passion with which he began his service, continues on throughout the generations. The joy inherent in serving the Almighty should accompany him throughout his lifetime of service. Indeed, it is an intrinsic component of the mitzvah – without which the mitzvah is nothing more than a tepid, sterile act of observance. The Kohanim are reminded of this, so that the joy continues constantly.
The Chafetz Chaim, zl, had occasion to be in Lida. The entire Jewish community turned out to hear words of Torah and mussar, admonition, from the venerable sage. The Chafetz Chaim related the following incident, with its accompanying lesson: “Once, I went to the mikveh in my city, Radin, and noticed, to my chagrin that the water was quite cold. I turned to the attendant in charge of the mikveh and asked, ‘Why is the water cold?’
He explained that he had no clue: ‘I did what I always do. I took the water from the large cooking pot and poured all of it into the mikveh.’” The Chafetz Chaim went over to the pot to check the temperature of the water. When he discovered that the water in the pot was barely lukewarm, he said, “Now I understand why the water from the pot was unable to heat the mikveh! In order to heat the cold water of the mikveh, the water from the pot must be burning hot.”
The Chafetz Chaim stopped for a moment and gazed into the faces of those assembled before him. “Eis tzarah hee l’Yaakov, ‘It is a time of trouble for (the people of) Yaakov.’ Many of our brethren have alienated themselves from the heritage of their fathers. They have distanced themselves from the Torah and have become cold to its mitzvos. It is our responsibility to bring them back, to warm their hearts and souls, so that they return to the warmth of Torah. There is, however, one problem: One cannot heat up a cold heart with a dispassionate soul. It is only when our hearts are aflame with religious fervor, with a burning passion for Torah and mitzvos, that we will be able to transfer our flame to them and ignite their dormant feelings for Yiddishkeit.”
As long as the Jewish heart beats, it is never too late. The embers have cooled; some have even turned into ashes, but there is an inner spark. The neshamah, soul, which is a chelek Elokah mi’Maal, a part of the Divine Above, continues to burn, regardless of its surroundings. That flame is eternal and can always be stoked into a powerful blaze. One may never give up on any Jew – regardless of his/her background or previous deeds.
