Parshas Tzav begins with a peculiar conjugation of the word meaning “command” (tzav). Rashi notes that this particular form of the verb “tzeevah” connotes particular ziruz [urging on], both for the immediate moment and for future generations. Rashi quotes the Tanna Rabbi Shimon, who says that it is particularly necessary for the Torah to urge someone on in a situation where there is a loss of money.
The Torah is speaking of the laws of the korban olah. An olah is an animal that is totally consumed on the mizbayach. Even though the owner does not partake of a korban chatas [sin offering] either, at least the Kohanim who offer it do eat from that offering. The owner eats the lion’s share of the meat of the korban shlamim [peace offering]. However, the entire korban olah is placed on the mizbayach and it is totally burnt to ashes. Therefore, it is described as an offering “involving the loss of money.” Both the owners and the Kohanim see their money and their efforts literally going up in smoke when an olah is offered. All they get out of it, in a physical sense, is ashes. For this reason, there was a special need to charge and motivate the people to keep the laws associated with the korban olah.
It would seem that there are many mitzvos in the Torah that involve “loss of money” (chisoron kis). Observing Pesach requires spending money, and yet we do not find the word “tzav” written in conjunction with the observance of Pesach. Succos is not inexpensive either. Being a Jew is an expensive proposition. One has to wonder — what do the non-Jews do with their money? They don’t have Yeshiva tuition, they don’t have Pesach, and they don’t have Succos! No wonder the professional sports teams are able to sell so many season tickets!
If, by definition, so many mitzvos involve “chisoron kis”, why does Rashi place so much emphasis on the “chisoron kis” of the korban olah?
The answer is that there are different gradations of “chisoron kis”. True, it costs a lot of money to buy matzah and to buy esrogim, but it is easier to accept that type of expense. He gets something for his money. He can relate to the expense he has undergone. He can sit and eat the matzah. Granted, under normal circumstances he would not pay $15 a pound for something that sometimes tastes like cardboard. But now that the Torah gave us the mitzvah, we sit down and we eat the matzah that cost us so much money, and we enjoy it!
A good pair of Tefillin today easily costs several hundred dollars. This is a big expense. But at least I have Tefillin. I look at them. I wear them every day. I get psychological pleasure from having these expensive ritual items in my possession.
But a korban olah is different. A person buys a bull or a cow. This can cost hundreds of dollars. What does he do with it? He watches it being burnt. No one gets any benefit from it. The money goes up in smoke! This is “chisoron kis”. That is why people have to be encouraged and be given a special charge when it comes to such a mitzvah.
It is hard to take money from people and not give them anything in return. Herein lies a fundamental lesson in fund-raising. Whenever a person wants to raise money, what does the person have to do? Build a building. Why is that necessary? So that he can approach a wealthy individual and tell him “Listen, your name will be on the side of the building.” The institution is giving him something in return. Then, making a big donation will not seem like a “chisoron kis”.
As long as people can see the building, or the water fountain, or the plaque — as long as they can see “something” — they feel that they are getting something for their donation. It is far harder to raise money just in order to improve the salaries of teachers or to be able to reduce the cost of tuition. In such fund-raising campaigns the donors do not feel the same sense of “getting something for their money.” That kind of donation involves “chisoron kis”. Whenever people don’t see a tangible return, special urging is required — both immediately and for future generations. (R’ Frand)
