Every morning, a priest must be appointed to carry out the following procedure. The designated priest must don his linen tunic, but first he must don his linen trousers directly on his flesh. After donning his tunic, he must put on his turban and a linen sash.
So attired, he must, using a rake, lift out the innermost mass of ashes into which the fire has consumed the daily evening ascent-offering, as well as all the other offerings, upon the Altar. If there are still any unconsumed portions of the sacrifices among these ashes, the priest must put them back into the fire to burn. The priest must then deposit these ashes next to the south side of the Altar, to the east of the ramp. Similarly, the ashes of the Inner Altar and the ashes from the burnt wicks of the Candelabrum must be deposited at this location.
All these ashes will miraculously sink into the ground there.
This daily removal and deposition of ashes is part of the sacrificial rite, and must therefore be performed by the priest attired in his priestly uniform, despite the risk that these garments might be sullied by the ashes—just as all the other sacrificial rites (such as slaughtering, receiving and applying blood, burning up) must be performed in the finery of the priestly uniform, despite the risk that the garments might become sullied thereby.
Chasidic Insights
We can learn from this, firstly, that the preliminary preparations for fulfilling of a commandment are themselves a bona fide part of our Divine service, no less crucial and indispensable than the fulfillment of the commandment per se. In our commendable desire to connect to God through performing His commandments, we may understandably consider fulfilling the commandment much more important than preparing for it. Nonetheless, from God’s perspective, both the commandment and its prerequisite preparation are expressions of His will, and therefore, the more we are focused on purely fulfilling His will (as opposed to attaining our desire for personal spiritual advancement), the less partial we will be to fulfilling the commandment itself rather than preparing for it, approaching them both with the same joy and enthusiasm.
Secondly, we all understand that it is not enough to tend our own spiritual growth; we must help others grow spiritually, as well. However, once we reach a certain level of sophistication in our service of God or of knowledge of the Torah, we might be tempted to think that our calling is with people who are “within the camp,” i.e., those who have already accepted the Torah as their guide in life and do not need to be coaxed into entering a synagogue or a yeshiva. Those who are “outside the camp” and perhaps even adverse to enter it, we may think, should be someone else’s concern. The Torah therefore informs us that the very same priest who performs the sacred service at the Altar must also leave the sacred precincts to perform God’s will, not only outside the Tabernacle but outside the camp altogether. Furthermore, he must put on other, lesser garments in order to do so, meaning that we must be willing to don “street clothes” in order to establish proper rapport with our brethren “outside the camp” and communicate with them. Then, we can patiently draw them into the camp, where they belong, so they join us.
Although this may entail some personal sacrifice, it is nevertheless the path that God Himself showed us by “personally” descending into the depravity of Egypt in order to elevate His people and prepare them for the Giving of the Torah.
He must take the ashes outside the camp: Any involvement with the ashes that must be taken outside the camp—i.e., with those mundane activities that we pursue for the maintenance and enhancement of our physical lives—is an unnatural task for a Jew. We are “a kingdom of priests and a holy nation” who belong “inside the Tabernacle,” wholly absorbed in holy pursuits: praying to God, studying His Torah, performing His commandments, and revealing and experiencing His presence in creation. True, we deposit these ashes in an undefiled place—we engage in all these mundane activities “for the sake of heaven”—but even so, they force us to leave the heightened Divine consciousness of expressly holy pursuits.
The Torah therefore tells us that we must tend to these ashes only when they accumulate to the point that they impede the fire’s ability to consume the offerings; as long as we can continue our Divine pursuits unhindered, there is no reason to be distracted by material concerns. The only real justification for engaging in material pursuits is in order to enable or enhance further Divine activity “inside the Tabernacle.”
It is therefore imperative that we remain mentally “inside the Tabernacle” whenever we venture “outside the camp.” As we have noted, we draw the inspiration required for this feat from the Torah’s account of the binding of our forefather Isaac. Recalling how his self-sacrifice transformed his very body into an offering, rendering even his “ashes” fit to remain on the Altar for all time, inspires us to transform our “ashes” as well into material fit to remain on the Altar. We can thus remain focused on the true purpose of life even while engaged in secondary pursuits. It is for this reason that we read the account of his binding as a sacrifice daily, before our morning prayers.
