Abravanel

Bible studies with Don Isaac Abravanel’s commentary (also spelled Abarbanel) has withstood the test of
time. For over five centuries, Abravanel has delighted – and enlightened – clergy and layman alike,
offering enduring interpretations of the Bible.

Don Isaac Abravanel (1437-1508) was a probing and penetrating Jewish thinker, as well as a prolific
Biblical commentator. Following is Abravanel’s shortened introduction to the Book of Numbers, the
fourth book in the Five Books of Moses (Bmidbar).

“And God spoke unto Moses in the wilderness of Sinai, in the Tent of
Meeting, on the first day of the second month after they were come out
of the land of Egypt saying. Take you the sum of all the congregation of
Israel, by their families, by their fathers’ houses, according to the number
of names, every male, by their polls.”

The Book of Genesis relates to the making or forging of the Hebrew nation, delineating the twelve tribes
and their offspring. It commences with the creation of the world and concludes with the young nation’s
decent into Egypt – and bitter exile.

The Book of Exodus describes the Hebrews’ enslavement in Egypt, and ensuing physical redemption
from bondage. The second book also provides Bible students with a glimpse into the Jews’ spiritual level,
a sorry one at that. To be fair, that dismal state of religiosity dogged the encampment until it reached
Mount Sinai. At that juncture, attitudes changes. Subsequently, they were collectively catapulted into a
nation of prophets. Moreover, a fundamental boon transpired when the Hebrews constructed the
Tabernacle; it enabled the mystical Shechinah to dwell in the people’s midst.

Next comes the Book of Leviticus. It provides the Chosen People guidelines into holiness and pure
conduct. Priests learned their esteemed roles as the exclusive Tabernacle officials, gatekeepers. Divine
commandments focus on achieving holiness, so that God’s presence would fill the Tabernacle – and
remain there. To be sure, this was a joint effort. Priests and layman alike needed to fulfill their roles, and
destinies, as a nation set apart. We speak of a nation that would be faithful to Heaven’s ethos, which
meant distancing themselves from the wanton and evil behavior of the Gentiles.

This brings us to the Book of Numbers. We track the nation during their forty-year desert trek – learning
how they camped and how they decamped. We read about their adventures, and misadventures. Those
provocations caused God to tack on all those long, dreary years in the wilderness. A stiff-necked people
would die out in the wastelands, before the Maker deemed a young generation worthy to enter the land
of Canaan, in fulfillment of a divine promise made centuries earlier to the illustrious patriarchs.

The Book of Numbers, Abravanel tells us, consists of ten sections. Primarily, they focus on Moses’
leadership in the desert. By and large, it is the story of Jewish heroism and military prowess, scoring a
string of impressive victories. We find, as well, a chronology of how the nation traveled and camped,
orderly marching according to tribal formations.

Likewise, the Book of Numbers introduces Bible students to the Hebrew camp’s darker side. Thus, we
read about how the Jews lapsed with Moab, Midian, Balak, and Bilam. In turn, this fourth book of the
Torah records remarkable wins over Sihon and Og, two formidable Emorite kings. Their respective
territories were deeded to the tribes of Ruben and Gad. Some of the tribe of Manasseh shared in the
Emorite war spoils.

This concludes our summation of Abravanel’s introduction to the Book of Numbers.

Don Isaac Abravanel, sometimes spelled Abarbanel (1437-1508) was a probing and penetrating Jewish thinker, as well as a prolific
Biblical commentator. In Leviticus 8, he takes pains to prove Moses’ integrity, an honest broker.
Specifically, Abravanel learns from our verses a basic tenet of Judaism: Moses simply acted as God’s
conduit, and had not acted on his own. Abravanel illustrates.

“And God spoke to Moses saying. Take Aaron and his sons with him,
and the garments, and the anointing oil…”

In the Book of Exodus, we read of the assembling of the Tabernacle, together with its accoutrements. At
this juncture, God commands His prophet to “take Aaron, his sons, and the priestly garments, and the
anointing oil”for purposes of consecrating them, as well as the Tabernacle.

The grand occasion was not to be a closed-door, hushed affair. Far from it, as it says: “And assemble you
all the congregation at the door of the Tent of Meeting.”

The entire nation was on hand to witness the grandeur, the pomp and circumstance. Why? It was
important for the people to watch the induction ceremony, let us call it, so that they would extend the
proper honor and acclaim to the high priest and his family.

Abravanel continues: “And Moses did as God commanded him. And the congregation was assembled at
the door of the Tent of Meeting.”The prophet addressed his brethren: “And Moses said unto the
congregation, This is the thing which God commanded to be done.”

Moses spoke unequivocally. No one present should harbor false notions about the great, unfolding
event of the inauguration of Aaron or the Tabernacle. Namely, no one should assume, let alone assert
that Moses personally convened the encampment for purposes of showering prestige upon Aaron and
his sons. Patently false.

The Hebrews heard that, in truth, the event had been Heaven’s directive. It was God’s, and not Moses’
initiative. “This is the thing which God commanded to be done.” Moses had not orchestrated the public
installment of Aaron and sons – one that brought the priestly family much honor.

Orders came exclusively from Above, Abravanel underscores.

Don Isaac Abravanel, sometimes spelled Abarbanel (1437-1508) was a probing and penetrating Jewish thinker, as well as a prolific
Biblical commentator. The subject of sin offerings began in Leviticus 4, and continues in chapter 5. Our
verse discusses the sin offering of a poor man. Given his dearth of cash (he can’t rub two nickels
together), what are his options for atoning for wrongdoing?

“But if his means suffice not for two turtledoves, or two young pigeons,
then he shall bring his offering for that wherein he has sinned, the tenth
part of an ephah of fine flour…”

The Torah, Abravanel notes, pities the poor. Accordingly, if a Jew is so impoverished that he cannot
afford to purchase “two turtledoves, or two young pigeons”, dispensation is forthcoming. “Then he shall
bring his offering for that wherein he has sinned, the tenth part of an ephah of fine flour…”

The Torah grants more financial consideration and leeway to the destitute. “He shall put no oil upon it,
neither shall he put any frankincense thereon, for it is a sin offering.”

Abravanel shares two rationales for the oil and frankincense exemption. One has to do with the fellow’s
financial dire straits, as noted above. God doesn’t want to further strain his dwindling bank account.

The second reason focuses on the sin offering itself. Specifically, the Torah draws a clear distinction
between a sin offering and a meal offering, though both feature fine flour. However, a meal offering is
mixed with oil and frankincense, while a sin offering isn’t.

Our verse is explicit: “It is a sin offering.”Insofar as the poor fellow transgressed and wants to make
amends through a sin offering, it would be inappropriate and misplaced to embellish it by adding lavish
ingredients such as oil and frankincense, giving it the appearance of a meal offering.

Notwithstanding the austerity of a poor man’s sin offering, “the priest shall take his handful of it as the
memorial part thereof, and make it smoke on the altar, upon the offerings of God made by fire. It is a sin
offering.”

“And the priest shall make atonement for him…and the remnant shall be the priest’s, as the meal
offering.” Just as the priest partook of his share of a meal offering, so too is he entitled to enjoy some of
the poor Jew’s sin offering of fine flour.

Parashat Ki Tisa, First Aliyah, an excerpt from Abravanel’s World of Torah by Zev Bar Eitan

“And God said to Moshe saying: For the sake of your taking a census of the Children of Israel according
to their count, each man shall give atonement for his soul to the Almighty in reckoning them so that
plague does not befall them by dint of having been numbered.”

"Divine wisdom foresaw that the Hebrews would not donate sufficient quantities of silver to the holy
national enterprise. This attested to its versatile usefulness, making demand for it practically
ubiquitous. In fact, during the forty-year trek, silver was the preferred commodity for buying or selling
merchandise.

Silver coins came in either shekel or half-shekel denominations…"

Page 156 Shemot vol. II: Assembled at Sinai

“Now Yitro, the priest of Midian, Moshe’s father-in-law, heard of all that God had done for Moshe,
and for Yisrael His people, how God brought Yisrael out of Egypt.”

‘Before delving into our passage’s narrative, it is important to determine where it fits into the broader
chronology scheme. When did Yitro arrive on the scene and advise Moshe to set up a multi-tiered
court system? Textual sequence indicates that Yitro arrived before the Jews received the Torah. Still,
some posit that it was afterward which might better explain the need for relieving the overtaxed
Judge Moshe of some of his dockets. Talmudic sages are split on this issue.

Medieval-era Torah commentators vie to provide evidence for one view or the other.

Shemot vol. I: Sinai Rules page 349

Don Isaac Abravanel, sometimes spelled Abarbanel (1437-1508) was a probing and penetrating Jewish thinker, as well as a prolific
Biblical commentator. Biblical ethics takes front and center stage in Leviticus Chapter 18. Neatly, Abravanel
categorizes the two ancient cultures of Egypt and Canaan. Neither social structure, to be polite, were
enviable from the perspective of upright conduct.

“And God spoke unto Moses saying, speak unto the Children of Israel
and say to them. I am God your Almighty. After the doings of the land of
Egypt, wherein you dwelt, shall you not do. And after the doings of the
land of Canaan, whither I bring you, shall you not do. Neither shall you
walk in their statutes.”

 What were their respective moral shortcomings? Abravanel investigates.

Further, Abravanel asks why the Torah prefaced the commandment with allusions to Egypt and Canaan,
something Bible students don’t find elsewhere. Clearly, God could simply have skipped any mention of
both lands and peoples, and preceded directly to the ensuing verse: “My ordinances shall you do, and
My statutes you shall keep, to walk therein. I am God Almighty.”

Abravanel notes that the previous chapter (Leviticus 17) discussed the divine prohibition of dashing or
spilling sacrificial animal blood in the desert. The rationale for said ban had to do with the Torah’s
interest in distancing the Hebrews from Egypt’s devil worship practices; blood dashing played a central
role in their service to demons. God wanted to rinse clean from the Jews’ collective psyche any traces of
the sordid – and sanguinary – rite.

In sum, “After the doings of the land of Egypt, wherein you dwelt, shall you not do” refers to idolatrous
behavior.

What stoked the Canaanites fiery passions? Well, for one thing, Canaan didn’t share Egypt’s blood fetish,
and did not make it a national beverage. Canaan did, though, act perversely and promiscuously; sex was
boundaryless – the kinkier the better. The Torah flags Canaan’s morass and moral climate, one that
broke every taboo imaginable.

“And after the doings of the land of Canaan, whither I bring you, shall you not do. Neither shall you walk
in their statutes.” The God of Israel abhors sexual misconduct. Accordingly, He instructs the Chosen
People to have no part of it.

Biblical ethics conforms to the Creator’s rules, as a later verse states: “You shall therefore keep My
statutes and My ordinances, which if a man do, he shall live by them. I am God.”

Don Isaac Abravanel, also spelled Abarbanel (1437-1508) was a probing and penetrating Jewish thinker, as well as a prolific
Biblical commentator. Numbers 2 paints a portrait of an orderly Hebrew encampment, a masterful one
at that. A splendid arrangement with flags all around, it established crisp tribal associations and parameters. Just as
importantly, Jews kept their distance from the Tabernacle, lest blurred lines breed contempt for the
mystical Shechinah’s dwelling.

“And God spoke unto Moses and unto Aaron saying. The Children of
Israel shall camp with each person by the flag bearing his father’s
insignias. He shall camp a [specified] way off from the Tent of Meeting.”

Abravanel asks: Precisely how many banners dotted the Hebrew encampment’s skies? How many flags
fluttered alongside the Tabernacle, anchoring people to their closest of kin of tribal descent? Context,
he contends, is key.

Abravanel believes that the earlier chapter focused on counting the Hebrews of conscription age as a
precursor to forging the tribal formations surrounding the Tabernacle. Thus, immediately after the
Hebrews’ numbers had been ascertained, the ensuing chapter choreographed the encampment’s
positions and flags. Judah, for example, was captain over his tribe. On his team were the tribes of
Issachar and Zebulun. Owing to this threesome’s dominance, their formation rode to the Tabernacle’s
vanguard in the east. Each grouping of three tribes had its own banner, thus there were a total of four
flags, Abravanel holds.

Emphatically, the Creator did not want each man to pitch his tent in a helter-skelter fashion. Chaos
would be an anathema to God, Who demands order. He called for tribes to encircle the Tabernacle, to
its east and west and south and north. Four directions consisted of three tribes each, as stated above.
When the divine cloud of glory gave marching orders, marvelous synchronization was set in motion –
the Tabernacle ensconced in the middle of twelve tribes.

The configuration, Abravanel observes, may be likened to a man’s anatomy; the heart is centrally
located within a human body. So too are the tribes vis-à-vis the Tabernacle. They should be viewed as
extremities to the camp’s matrix or its midpoint and focal point. Indeed, Jewish life revolves around the
Tabernacle. Flags around the Tabernacle gave more than guidance or logistics to the trekking nation. It
promised divine protection, and safe passage for the Chosen People throughout the desert sojourn.

Don Isaac Abravanel, sometimes spelled Abarbanel (1437-1508) was a seminal Jewish thinker, penetrating scholar, and prolific Biblical
commentator. His lengthy introduction to Leviticus provides Bible students an excellent and thorough
overview of one of the Bible’s least understood and appreciated subjects: animal sacrifice. See
Abravanel’s World for the discourse in its entirety.

“And God called unto Moses, and spoke unto him out of the Tent of the
Meeting saying, speak unto the Children of Israel, and say unto them:
When any man of you brings an offering unto God, you shall bring your
offering of the cattle, even of the herd.”

Here we bring Abravanel’s opening remarks on that discussion, one that begins by showing how the
Book of Leviticus transitions easily from the books of Genesis and Exodus.

Genesis details the creation of the world – from nothing. Ensuing chapters chronicle early man’s
begetting and begetting and begetting. The narratives of the three patriarchs cover most of Genesis,
concluding with Jacob and family leaving famine-ridden Canaan for verdant Egypt.

Exodus records the Egyptian exile, marked by Jewish misery and enslavement. Divine redemption
studded with miracles broke the Hebrews’ bondage, Moses and Aaron leading the way. More wonders
met the Jews at the Red Sea, and along their desert trek. Then came Sinai, where each person
experienced prophecy. Directly from the Creator, they heard divine commandments.

Alas, trouble arrived. Hebrews built and prostrated themselves to a molten calf. Exodus also describes
how catharsis healed their egregious sin. The Maker issued instruction to build for Him a Tabernacle, a
sanctuary for His Shechinah. Subsequently, divine providence attached itself to the Chosen People. This
became evident to the encampment on the day when the Tabernacle had been erected (and thereafter),
as per the closing two verses in Exodus: “Then the cloud covered the Tent of Meeting and the glory of
God filled the Tabernacle. And Moses was not able to enter the Tent of Meeting, because the cloud
abode thereon, and the glory of God filled the Tabernacle.”

This, Abravanel says, sets the scene for the Torah’s third book, the Book of Leviticus. It pertains to the
service in the Tabernacle. Central to that holy service is animal sacrifice, performed by the priests for the
express purpose of aiding the Hebrews realign their religious priorities, and atone for transgression. In a
nutshell, we have laid out the opening remarks of Abravanel’s very lengthy prologue to Leviticus.

“And God spoke to Moshe saying. When you take the sum of the
Children of Israel, according to their number, then shall they give every
man a ransom for his soul unto God, when you number them, that there
be no plague among them, when you number them.”

Our section speaks about a census for soldiers. The count is associated with a “ransom”, in efforts to
ward off pestilence. The means to tally the warriors features a silver coin collection, called machtzit
ha’shekel. After all the coins were counted, then the men’s number was duly ascertained.

Abarbanel asks: Why does the Torah demand this roundabout method? A more straightforward way would have been to simply count heads and thereby short circuit the coin count.

Answering that question, actually, pits Abarbanel against all other classic Bible commentators, including
Rashi and the Ramban. According to the commentators, head counts are prohibited by the Torah, as the
act invites the wrath of the evil eye. They are incorrect. While the Bible does record the disastrous
effects of the evil eye in King David’s time, that discussion is for a different time.

Was the machtzit ha’shekel brought here as subterfuge, a tricky way to forestall pestilence? Hardly. Here
is why.

One has to do with God’s command at present. He did not call for a census by coin collection, or for that
matter, by any other object. When God finds something desirable – He lets people know by issuing a
command. The Maker does not mince His words.

Two, if counting by object represents the preferred methodology for successive times and generations
and if it is considered a positive commandment, incumbent upon the Jews (to use coins or other means),
as well as a negative precept (not to perform headcounts), we need to answer why the sages who list
the Torah’s six hundred thirteen mitzvot do not include them in their count?

Three, how can anyone assert that the Jews were not counted, when the Torah writes explicitly: “This
they shall give, every one who passes among them are numbered.” The words speak for themselves –
this is the Biblical way to describe body counting.

More reasons could be supplied, but these suffice. Let us share Abarbanel’s interpretation, in shorthand,
of our section’s lead verses to count Hebrews.

In the Torah, context matters. Six successive paragraphs pertain to the building and funding of the
Tabernacle. Apropos, the Creator foresaw that the Jews would donate small quantities of silver to the
holy enterprise. For a simple reason. International currency during those years centered on silver, the
machtzit ha’shekel being the common currency.

We add some backstory to the forty-year desert march. The encampment regularly enjoyed visits from
traveling Gentile merchants hawking, well, just about everything. When it came to funding the
Tabernacle, Jews were quite generous. Generous with their gold. Generous with their copper. Generous
with their valuables. Nearly all their valuables.

Silver proved the exception. Jews did not part with silver, because it enabled them to buy things from
traveling salesmen. Those merchants only accepted silver as payment for goods. Now we can better
understand our section.

After the Torah dedicated paragraph after paragraph to the building and funding of the Tabernacle, it
segued into our section, beginning with taking a census of the men. “When you take the sum of the
Children of Israel…” The Tabernacle included many silver vessels, but silver donations were scant, for the
reason stated above.

God came with a fix. He had Moshe take a census whereby each counted man would donate a machtzit
ha’shekel. This would provide the Hebrew leader with vital information about his available fighting
forces, a requirement every military leader finds indispensable. After all, Moshe believed the Jewish
incursion into Canaan was imminent. Knowing his troops numbers made perfect sense, something every
general ascertains prior to war.

In closing, let us demonstrate how God aligned disparate goals. “And God spoke to Moshe saying. When
you take the sum of the Children of Israel”, in the main, had little to do with warding off the evil eye.
Mustering up troops is fully justified, as suggested. God observed that the Mishkan was in sore need of
silver, to manufacture certain, sacred vessels. Alignment occurred when the Creator offered sound
counsel to Moshe, bidding him to collect much silver.

Separately, Moshe sought to count the troops as a means of preparing an offensive to take Canaan.
Headcounts court danger, in the form of the evil eye (Read: a count or sum reaches large proportions).
The Maker provided an antidote. He directed Moshe to order the fighting corps to bring “a ransom for
his soul unto God.”

Abarbanel proposes that the silver was tzedakah (charity). He further holds that a direct headcount took place. As
for the threat posed by a direct tally, charity served as a life preserver. Each man safeguarded his life
from the evil eye on the merit of the machtzit ha’shekel he donated to the Mishkan.

“And let them make Me a sanctuary, that I may dwell among them.”

Don Isaac Abarbanel (1437-1508) asks on this Torah section of Terumah: Why did God command the
Hebrews to build a sanctuary? As it says: “That I may dwell among them?” One might deduce that the
Maker has physical properties and that a sanctuary can fully contain Him.

Preposterous. Hashem is non-corporeal. Thus, no chamber – no matter how high and spacious – can
accommodate Him. Yeshayahu pegged it: “The heaven is My throne and the earth is My footstool.
Where is the house that you may build unto Me? And where is the place that may be My resting place?”
Wise Shlomoh, the builder of the First Jewish Temple, props the prophet’s proclamation: “Behold,
heaven and the heaven of heavens cannot contain You. How much less this house that I have built!”
Does our verse in the first aliyah of Parashat Terumuah challenge the words of the prophet and wise
king?

It should be plain. The Almighty’s command to build the Tabernacle or Mishkan and its vessels had to do
with His desire to tightly interweave His holiness and holy presence or Shechinah with the Chosen
People. Of no consequence was the fact that this intimate relationship commenced between man and
God in a desert wasteland (and not lusher or more picturesque environs).

What mattered most was the goal it accomplished. Providence coddled God’s nation, in exchange of
their keeping the divine Torah. A marriage made in heaven. Never would His people contemplate the
fundamentally false, but near-ubiquitous, premise that the Creator abandoned earth. Nor would they
adopt the attitudes of the Gentiles, one based on the assumption that God retired to the heavens
above, remote from man. Moreover, the Jews would repel heresy built upon a denial of divine
providence interfacing with man. Such skewed philosophy leads to bitter consequences, namely, a
mindset that precludes the Maker from paying man back according to his evil deeds and ways.

On this topic of erroneous, theological assumptions, let us elaborate. Gentile thinkers posit that it is not
possible to attain in-depth understanding of the world, other than by sense perception or other physical
stimuli. Since God is non-corporeal, these theologians surmise, He does not tune into man’s daily doings.
Nor does He apply providence to people. Incorrectly, they believe that the Creator sits upon high, aloof
from man.

The Maker does not abide such false teachings. For a moment. In efforts to redress such misinformation
from among the Jewish ranks, God commands: “And let them make Me a sanctuary, that I may dwell
among them.” The verse conveys that the Almighty Himself takes up residence amongst the Jews. This is
a religious tenet and imperative. The Creator resides in their midst. Divine providence is the vehicle or
manifestation of faith.

We return to an earlier reference to a verse in Yeshayahu, making better sense of it: “The heaven is My
throne and the earth is My footstool. Where is the house that you may build unto Me? And where is the
place that may be My resting place?”

Unequivocally, the Creator has zero need for a Temple or Tabernacle. In the very next verse in
Yeshayahu, we read: “For all these things has My hand made.” Why, then, did God command the Jews
to build the Mishkan? The answer resounds unmistakably: to etch within the Jews’ psyche the principle
of divine providence, as per Yeshayahu: “But on this man will I look, even on him that is poor and of a
contrite spirit, and trembles at My word.” This is precisely what wise Shlomoh meant in his prayer, on
the solemn occasion at the dedication of the Holy Temple.

“And you shall command the Children of Israel, that they bring unto you
pure olive oil beaten for the light, to cause a lamp to burn continually. In
the Tent of Meeting…Aharon and his sons shall set it in order, to burn
from evening to morning before God…”

Isaac Abravanel contends that it is curious for our section to start with a divine command regarding the
priests arranging the lights of the Tabernacle’s menorah. Yet, at present, such a commandment is out of
place. Better would have been to insert this mitzvah after we read about building the Tabernacle and
heard about the placement of the menorah (plus the other holy vessels). Granted, the menorah
directive relates to the priests, still and all, at this point in the Torah, they had not even been duly
designated (It occurs in the next verse.). If so, Abravanel wonders why verse two of our section already
tells Kohanim how to handle the menorah. In short, the instruction appears premature.

Abravanel poses another question, this time not about the content of the first verse, but rather about its
style. Phrasing seems off: “And you shall command” or ve’ata tetzaveh. The object of Moshe’s request
is the Jewish people. But, preferable would have been the imperative: “Command Aharon” or tzav et
Aharon or even “Command the Children of Israel” or tzav et bnei Yisrael. After all, and on this very
commandment, the imperative is used in Sefer Vayikra, where it reads: “Command the Children of
Israel.”

The Ramban, another classic Bible commentator, attempts to provide an answer to our first question.
He learns that the particular phrasing conveys that Moshe should not delegate this commandment to
others; it is incumbent upon him to do. For the Ramban’s approach to hold water, really, the Torah
should have written: “And you command” or veatah tzaveh, similar to an upcoming verse that does use
that grammatical construct: “And you bring forth” or ve’atah hakrev and not what we have above:
ve’ata tetzaveh.

Indeed, Biblical grammar matters. From our section’s lead verses, it does not appear that the Torah here
is issuing a divine imperative about the lighting oil. Nor do they represent a pressing message to light the
menorah.

Here is Abravanel’s answer to both questions. Consider the big picture of this section, with the first two
verses setting the scene for what ensues: priestly garb. That is, the Torah intends to launch a broader
discussion into the subject of holy garments that priests must don when officiating in the Mishkan. Thus,
the Maker tells Moshe: “And you shall command…” When? Sometime in the future you shall command
your brethren to take pure olive oil. Moreover, in the Tent of Assembly, outside of the partition covering
the Testimony, Aharon and his sons shall arrange the lamp in the evening until the next morning, before
the Creator – an everlasting edict. Exclusively, only priests or Kohanim may attend to this service. It
devolves upon Moshe to summon Aharon his brother, as well as Aharon’s sons to officiate before the
One Above.

Notice how our section pivots from its preface (menorah) to the main thrust (priestly garb). It would be
patently gauche for Kohanim to perform sacred service while wearing ordinary clothing. Given this
solemn requirement to “dress the part”, it befits Moshe to occupy himself with proper, priestly attire, as
per the balance of this section.

Precisely because sacred garments are of paramount importance, the Torah, at present, is not coming to
request the lighting of the menorah. Rather, the chief thing here is to put together respectable garments
for the Kohanim. So, when they enter the sanctuary to attend to the menorah (and other Tabernacle
activities), they dress respectfully.

Now, since Aharon and his sons will be entering the Sanctuary night and day before the Almighty to light
the menorah, they shall not make spectacles of themselves by violating the holy compound’s dress
code. Hence, our section alludes to one of the priests’ Mishkan tasks. In effect, the Torah establishes a
timeline (sometime down the road…) through a grammatical nuance before beginning in earnest, “And
you shall command”, but not the more time critical tone of “Command the Children of Israel” – which
implies posthaste.

Parashat Tzav, First Aliyah, based on Abravanel’s World of Torahby Zev Bar Eitan

Bible Studies with Don Isaac Abarbanel and the Ramban. Sacrifices in the Tabernacle: Sin offerings, guilt
offerings, and peace offerings. Abarbanel asks: Does God even want sacrifices? What does the Torah’s
sequence of the offerings teach about God?

“And God spoke to Moses saying. Command Aaron and his sons saying,
this is the law of the burnt offering…”

Don Isaac Abarbanel asks what appears to be a question of style, better of an inconsistency of style.
Regarding the sequence of the Tabernacle’s sacrifices, he makes a simple observation. Earlier in
Leviticus, where the subject of offerings is broached, the section pertaining to peace offerings is
followed by sin offerings, and then guilt offerings. Yet, here in our section, verses begin with sin and guilt
offerings prior to moving on to peace offerings. Why?

Here is Abarbanel’s answer. Early in Leviticus, God says to Moshe: “Speak to the Children of Israel.” That
section discusses the divine commandment to bring sacrifices. And the Hebrews complied, bringing their
offerings. But here something else is going on. “Command Aaron and his sons saying…”

Here the verses focus on practice, meaning the emphasis rests on the men who will actually do or carry
out Tabernacle service. Performers or agents of execution were the priests. Some sacrifices had been
the domain of the high priest, while other types fell to rank-and-file priests. Hence, “Command Aaron
and his sons saying…”

At the lead were verses concerning burnt offerings, owing to its most lofty status. Of all the varied types
of offerings, these are the Creator’s most beloved. That explains why Leviticus begins with verses
discussing burnt offerings. Top of the top. We may view it as if the Maker extends a wish or a hope. How
wonderful it would be if Hebrews only brought this altruistic type! Indeed, it is God’s prayer that Jews
would not sin and thus not need to bring either sin or guilt offerings, as they imply misdoing.

In contrast, we find the earlier section that discusses peace offering before sin and guilt sacrifices, as
opposed to our section, whose order is flipped (first sin and guilt and then peace offerings). The
Ramban, a classic Bible commentator responds as follows. In the Temple times, all sacrifices fell into one
of two broad categories: most holy and ordinary holy offerings. In the sacrifice pyramid, per se, the most
holy were the burnt, sin, and guilt offerings. Underneath them were peace offerings.

But there is more to the various offering types than what meets the eye. Abravanel explains. In the
beginning of Leviticus, we find this sequence: burnt offerings, gift offerings, peace offerings, with sin
(and guilt) offerings trailing last. This order bespeaks God’s traits, always putting the right foot forward,
in a manner of speaking. Except for sin/guilt sacrifices, all other offerings highlight the positive. This
reflects the Maker’s preference; He desires idealistic folks who bring gifts to the Temple out of love and
for good occasions, good cheer.

Put differently, whenever God is faced with two options – positive and negative – He naturally favors the
positive and good. Consequently, the order of sacrifices begins with altruistic and favorable ones. They
are the goodwill offerings (burnt, gift, and peace). They exude love and idealism. Next is the sin offering,
an obligatory sacrifice suggesting remedying a wrong. Fear of God as a motivator places a distant second
place to those ushered in with affection.

“And Moshe assembled all the congregation of the Children of Israel and he said to them: These are
the words that God has commanded to do them.”

Abarbanel asks : When did Moshe make the appeal to fund the Tabernacle?

‘After Moshe descended the mountain, he addressed the entire nation. His call, naturally, reached out
to men and women. A gathering took place in the prophet’s personal Tent of Meeting, located beyond
the Hebrews’ encampment. It was crucial to assemble everyone so that they could all hear God’s
words spoken via Moshe.

In essence, the gathering was a rally for people to generously come forward and shoulder the financial
costs of building the Mishkan. According to the Ramban, this appeal, for lack of a better word, took
place the day after Moshe had come down from Sinai….

Page 320 Shemot vol. II: Assembled at Sinai

Don Isaac Abravanel, sometimes spelled Abarbanel (1437-1508) was a profound Jewish thinker, seminal scholar, and prolific Biblical
commentator. His preface to the Book of Exodus affords Bible students a compact overview of Genesis
as well as the second book of the five books of Moses. Here we bring a synopsis of it.

“Now these are the names of the Sons of Israel, who came into Egypt
with Jacob; every man came with his household.”

Divine wisdom, Abravanel asserts, had plenty of good reasons for dividing up the five books of Moses, as
it did, the focus here being on Exodus’ organic outgrowth from Genesis. He lists four rationales for that
link or connector. Below are the first two. See Abravanel’s World for the remaining two.

1) Genesis recounts the deeds and formidable challenges that faced remarkable individuals.
Among other men of renown, we single out Adam, Noah, Shem, Eber, Abraham, Isaac, Jacob and
his sons. After Genesis concludes the narratives of these outstanding personages, Exodus
follows. It covers the Hebrew people collectively. Thus, in Exodus we read about how the
fledgling Hebrew nation languished in the Egyptian exile and servitude. Divine miracle and
redemption set them free. Later, at Sinai, the encampment heard God’s voice bellow the ten
commandments. Finally, Exodus pertains to the Tabernacle, home of the mystical Shechinah.

2) The divine Torah’s main purpose, Abravanel writes, is to hone and perfect the Hebrew people,
the Creator’s hand-picked flock. We speak of the refinement of body and soul, accomplished
through the observance of the commandments. When the Torah desired to elaborate on the
Chosen People’s mission and destiny, it began with Genesis, and a meticulous chronology of the
Hebrews’ illustrious forbears. Veritably, Jews descend from the very finest of human stock. They
are anything but a hodgepodge of nationalities, banding together under a creed or religion.
Hebrews neatly trace their lineage to humanity’s luminaries, really an ethical proving ground, if
you will. Genesis, then, lays out the Jews’ rich heritage, starting with Adam. In short shrift,
Adam’s unworthy descendants are merely mentioned in passing. In contrast to the holy seed,
the undesirables, let us label them, lacked character, moral fiber. Hebrews hail from Adam’s
third son, Seth, a moral giant. The divine spark passed through him and continued to Noah,
Shem, Eber, and the three patriarchs – Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.

In this manner, Abravanel develops his preface to the Book of Exodus, advancing four reasons that
illustrate just how gracefully it segues from Genesis.

Don Isaac Abravanel (1437-1508) was a preeminent Jewish thinker, scholar, and prolific Biblical
commentator. In Genesis chapter 31, we read about Rachel swiping Laban’s idols. Her inexcusable deed
raises a red flag, prompting Bible students to question: What could Rachel possibly have been thinking?

“Now Laban was gone to shear his sheep. And Rachel stole the
teraphim that were her father’s.”

It certainly vexed Abravanel, leading him to ask: What tempted Rachel? Did she want to ween Laban
from his idolatrous folly? If so, how naive? What would be the likelihood that an old man set in his
primitive ways could be cured by a young daughter? Besides, who would stop Laban from acquiring new
gods? Finally, Abravanel raises the possibility that Rachel desired to serve idols, as her father. Answering
his own ridiculous thought, Abravanel says emphatically – God forbid. No way would Rachel stoop so
low!

Jacob clearly had no inkling that Rachel pilfered the teraphim, otherwise he wouldn’t have issued a
death warrant for the offender. The patriarch tells Laban: “With whomsoever you find your gods, he
shall not live…”

Here is Abravanel’s response. At best, Rachel viewed her father’s teraphim as a type of talisman. That is,
of course she understood that the figurine couldn’t speak, but maybe it somehow inspired Laban, and
spurred him to greater awareness. In our context, Abravanel suggests that maybe Rachel thought that
when Jacob exited with his wives and children, Laban would run to his idols, talk to them, in hopes of
gaining insight. Laban would take hold of the teraphim, pensively inquiring of them: “Tell me. Where did
Jacob lead my daughters and grandchildren? Which way did they go? What route did they take etc.?”

In sum, Rachel hedged her bet and sought to improve Jacob’s run for freedom. Since Rachel worried
that Laban would consult his teraphim, as means to figuring out Jacob’s best escape route, she stole her
father’s idols. The blow to Laban would blunt his powers of concentration, and ultimately thwart his
chances to apprehend the fugitives.

Don Isaac Abravanel (1437-1508) was a preeminent Jewish thinker, scholar, and prolific Biblical
commentator. In Genesis chapter 12, the Bible introduces the first of three patriarchs, Abram. God
directed him to leave home and family to destination unknown. Our chapter informs us that Abram
traveled westward with his wife, Sarai, and Lot, his nephew. Shortly, as the sojourners reached Canaan,
the Maker appeared to Abram, and revealed the mystery destination. God let Abram know that he was
to dwell there. Other divine messages of good tidings were communicated to him. But no sooner had
Abram, his wife, and nephew began settling in Canaan than the émigrés faced an existential threat: a
merciless famine.

“Now God said unto Abram: Leave your country, and your kindred, and
your father’s house, unto the land that I will show you…And Abram
passed through the land…And God appeared to Abram and said: Unto
your seed will I give this land…

There was a famine in the land. And Abram went down into Egypt to
sojourn there, for the famine was sore in the land.”

As the verse above says, Abram decided not to stay put in his new homeland. Instead, he packed up the
family and headed to Egypt.

Abravanel poses a question. Would it have been preferable to withstand the famine and rough it until
the crisis passed? Fortitude in the face of dire straits is not as farfetched as it may seem. Faith in the One
Above, especially in mortal danger, does more than build character. Is it not a religious imperative?
Certainly, King David believed it so, as he writes in psalms: “Behold, the eyes of God are upon those who
fear Him, upon those who hope in His steadfast love.”

Let us be clear. It was God Who sent Abram away from home in the first place, entrusting him with a
sacred task in Canaan. Surely, divine salvation would watch over Abram in the Holy Land, and ward off
the pangs of a killer famine.

Abravanel wasn’t the only one to raise an eyebrow over Abram’s decision to leave Canaan in search of
greener pastures in Egypt. One commentator went further. He impugned Abram’s judgment,
characterizing the move as a woeful sin. Abravanel writes that the criticism of Abram was unfair and
uncalled for.

Notwithstanding, Abravanel does ask: Was Abram’s departure from Canaan wrong, sinful? What was he
thinking?

Here is Abravanel’s approach. It provides Bible students with a peak into Abram’s logic.

• Abram believed that the divine commandment to dwell in the Holy Land did not categorically
  ban going to Egypt for good cause, such as engaging in commerce or other weighty
  considerations. The patriarch presumed it alright, based on his understanding of the
  commandment. Hence, a short jaunt beyond Canaan’s borders did not present a problem, an
  infringement of God’s will. Abram would return to his new home the moment the famine
  passed. This attitude, Abravanel teaches, had been prevalent among “Israelis.” Namely, they
  were accustomed to attend to business outside of the land, and then return to it after they
  wrapped up their commercial affairs. For Abravanel, Abram’s conduct was perfectly reasonable
  insofar as he acted with what he believed to be something acceptable in Heaven’s eyes. Put
  succinctly, Abram assumed that the mitzvah to dwell in Israel allowed leeway. The Bible writes
  as much: “And Abram went down to Egypt to sojourn there, for the famine was sore in the
  land.”The term “sojourn” suggests a temporary visit and not permanently.
•  Abram understood that divine commandments come with a qualification or condition.
  Fulfilment of God’s word must bring the believer or adherent a betterment to his lot and
  enhance his life. If, however, compliance with a given commandment brings death, then God
  suspends it. When faced with a raging famine – a clear and present mortal danger – Abram
  reasoned that the conditions were not right to stay put in Canaan. Dying in the Holy Land would
  prove nothing. The Talmudic sages concurred. To paraphrase: If famine plagues a city, run away.
  For Abram, moral clarity dictated that existential threat obliged him to leave Canaan. God, the
  patriarch thought, would approve the temporary move, with the intention to return when the
  threat subsided. “For the famine was sore in the land.” Necessity forced Abram’s departure. In
  extreme circumstances, the Maker allows for dispensation.

There was another compelling reason for Abram to leave Canaan and go to Egypt. Please see
Abravanel’s World Abravanel’s Worldto learn more.

Bible studies with Don Isaac Abravanel’s commentary (also spelled Abarbanel) has withstood the test of
time. For over five centuries, Abravanel has delighted – and enlightened – clergy and layman alike,
offering enduring interpretations of the Bible.

“And the angel of God said unto her: Behold you are with child, and shall
bear a son. And you shall call his name Ishmael, because God has
heard your affliction. And he shall be a wild ass of a man. His hand shall
be against every man, and every man’s hand against him. And he shall
dwell in the face of all his brethren.”

Don Isaac Abravanel (1437-1508) was a preeminent Jewish thinker, scholar, and prolific Biblical
commentator. Earlier in Genesis, Bible students read of God’s promises to Abram. The patriarch heard
that he would be the father to many nations, and that his descendants would inherit Canaan. Yet,
Abram and Sarai grew older and older, with no children in sight.

In Chapter 16, things come to a head. Sarai senses that she is reproductively impaired. Ten years in the
Holy Land brought no boost to the couple’s fertility. Still no babies.

Sarai came up with a strategy. She pleaded with Avram to wed Hagar, Sarai’s Egyptian handmaid.
Perhaps, Sarai hoped, Hagar would have a child. Sarai would help raise him. In that way, Sarai would do
her part in participating in the fulfilment of Heaven’s plan.

After repeated requests from Sarai, Abram acceded to Sarai’s pleas. Abram married Hagar, and she
conceived. Verses tell us that Hagar also grew conceited. She looked down on Sarai. The domestic scene
between Sarai and Hagar became more than just sticky; it was toxic.

Abram’s two wives couldn’t get along. At all. Strife tore the patriarch’s family apart. Hagar ran away.
While wandering in the adjacent desert, an angel of God appeared to Hagar. Several communications
passed between them. See the verses quoted above.

Abravanel focuses, among other things, on the son that Hagar would soon bear: Ishmael. What will
become of him, Abravanel asks. Bible aficionados believe the answer to be a simple one, as per the
verse: “And he shall be a will ass of a man.” Clearly, the description of Ishmael as a “wild ass” is not open
to interpretation, we would think.

Readers will be surprised by Abravanel’s approach, one that paints Ishmael, the patriarch’s first son, in a
positive light. Here is how:

The angel of God chided Hagar for leaving the creature comforts of home. He told her, in so many
words, to return to Abram and Sarai, come what may. Among the arguments that the angel put forth to
coax Hagar back was one of environment. What will she gain for her or her son should she decide to
adopt a nomadic existence, traipsing from wilderness to wilderness? Is a barren desert any place to live,
let alone raise a son?

If Hagar was to call the desert home, then the prospects would be bleak, said the angel of God. Do you
want to raise your son, he continued, to be a societal outcast? Do you think it’s in Ishmael’s best
interests to grow up without social skills, uncouth and uncivilized? In this manner, did the angel bring
about a change in Hagar’s heart.

To be sure, Abravanel uses finesse, with a stress on intonation: “And shall he be a wild ass of a man?”
Abravanel reads the verse rhetorically, as we have translated it.

The angel of God threatened that undesirable outcome, if Hagar relocated to the desert. Next, the angel
from above showed how Hagar could opt for a better life for her and her son, predicating it on her
return to Abram’s and Sarai’s holy household.

“His hand shall be against every man, and every man’s hand against him…” These are the angel’s words
should Hagar take the high road home. The angels expressed the following. To the question, “And shall
he be a wild ass of a man” came the answer from above. NO!

“His hand shall be against every man.” It means that Ishmael will be cultured. He will develop healthy
ties with his fellow man. He’ll be cultured. Moreover, the verse teaches that he’ll conduct commerce
with others, partnering up with them. Finally, the angel foretells that Ishmael, in time, will be close with
his half-brothers (children born to Abraham and Keturah).

Based onAbravanel’s World of Torah, by Zev Bar Eitan

Bible studies with Don Isaac Abravanel’s commentary (also spelled Abarbanel) has withstood the test of
time. For over five centuries, Abravanel has delighted – and enlightened – clergy and layman alike,
offering enduring interpretations of the Bible. In Genesis chapter 7, the Bible details and describes the flood that wiped clean an
entire planet, after repeated Heavenly warnings fell on deaf ears.

“And the flood was forty days upon the earth. And the waters increased,
and lifted up the ark. And it was carried above the earth. And the waters
prevailed, and increased greatly upon the earth. And the ark went upon
the face of the waters.”

In the chapter that conveys how Heaven unleashed the great flood, Abravanel notes the redundancies.
Multiple verses appear to go over the same material – “increasing waters” and “prevailing waters” etc.
He asks: Wouldn’t it suffice to write of these things once?

Abravanel introduces his answer after he wryly remarks that other Biblical commentators attempt, in
vain, to get the right read. They fail to adequately explain the reason why the verses repeat key terms
pertaining to the flood. The best these commentators could come up was literary license and emphasis.
Namely, increasing and prevailing waters claimed the lives of every single inhabitant of the world, the
lone exceptions being the passengers on Noah’s ark.

Bible 101 presumes this: Holy Writ does not waste words. No verbiage. Each word, each letter serves a
purpose. Indeed, they impart divine knowledge. Working with that assumption, Abravanel provides a
rationale for the seeming redundancy of this chapter’s description of increasing and prevailing waters. In
addition, Abravanel explains why the Bible seems to repeat itself when the chapter turns to outlining
the carnage.

“And all flesh perished that moved upon the earth, both fowl, and cattle…and every man. He blotted out
every living substance…and they were blotted out from the earth. And only Noah was left, and they who
were with him in the ark.”

Abravanel spells things out. God’s flood obliterated the planet. The Creator desired to give the world a
thorough scrubbing from its moral turpitude and stench. Earth was sorely needful of a redo. Water
would do the job. “Living substance” in the verse above does not narrowly refer to living beings. Instead,
it takes on a broader scope. Specifically, according to Abravanel, “living substance” takes into account
nature at large, including majestic and mighty trees, vast forests and jungles.

“Living substance” means more. It refers to urban and societal accessories, institutions, and
achievements. They all came crumbling down, the sprawling palaces, neighborhoods, and cities.
Needless to say, even the more modest and makeshift structures like cattle sheds and nests made of
sticks met their end, no differently than “impenetrable” city walls and “impregnable” defense systems.
In a word, whatever had any association whatsoever with the “living” melted away, vanished in flood
waters.

When the deluge receded, not a trace of life stood in its former place. As the Talmudic sages taught:
Even household implements like mortar and pestle disappeared, gone for good. “He blotted out every
living substance…and they were blotted out from the earth. And only Noah was left, and they who were
with him in the ark.”

In sum, Abravanel teaches how our chapter alludes to the annihilation of a world gone awry. God had,
after dispatching Noah to warn people, resolved to vanquish His creation. From its most intricate and
majestic forms to its most jejune and rudimentary parts – all were swept away in a maelstrom. Each
verse lent additional information, and imagery, about the utter ruin to befall an expendable world.

Based onAbravanel’s World of Torah, by Zev Bar Eitan

“And when Abram was ninety-nine-years-old, God appeared to Abram
and said unto him: I am God Almighty. Walk before Me and be
wholehearted. And I will make My covenant between Me and you, and
will multiply you exceedingly…This is My covenant, which you shall keep
between Me and you and your seed after you. Every male among you
shall be circumcised.”

Bible studies with Don Isaac Abravanel’s commentary (also spelled Abarbanel) has withstood the test of
time. In Genesis chapter 17, God once again appears to Abram. However, this time was
different, notes Abravanel. The commentator asks: Of all the divine communications with the patriarch,
why does only this one peg the prophecy to Abram’s age? “And when Abram was ninety-nine-years-old,
God appeared to Abram.”

Further, Abravanel observes that if the point was to inform us that Abram was a nonagenarian, it would
not make sense. Why? That information will be conveyed at the end of our chapter: “And Abraham was
ninety-nine-years-old when he was circumcised…”

In chapter 15, the Bible recorded an earlier covenant between the Creator and the patriarch. It taught
Abram that his progeny would flourish. The patriarch accepted the joyous news wholeheartedly, a
reaction that God attributed to Abram’s piety: “And he believed in God, and He counted it to him for
righteousness.”Shortly afterward, Ishmael was born to Abram.

Abram believed that the divine promise was coming to fruition. Ishmael would carry the patriarch’s
legacy and take title to the Holy Land. At present, in our chapter, God appears to Abram. The message
would disabuse the patriarch of his misunderstanding.

Abravanel elaborates. God’s message came in the form of a divine commandment. The patriarch needed
to undergo circumcision. “Every male among you shall be circumcised.”This informed Abram that the
sacred act of circumcision was an integral component of the covenant. It paved the way to producing a
Holy Nation. Children born to a circumcised father started conception, and life, on the right foot.

The Creator clarified matters more when He announced to Abraham later in chapter 16: “But My
covenant will I establish with Isaac, whom Sarah shall bear unto you at this set time in the next year.”
Note the progression in our chapter.

The first patriarch underwent a name change from Abram to Abraham, the matriarch Sarai became
Sarah. These were precursors to the commandment to undergo circumcision, an additional preparation
preceding the birth of Isaac – from holy and pure Abraham and Sarah.

An emerging picture took shape and the patriarch grasped its intent. That is, Abraham understood his
miscalculation. Not Ishmael but rather Isaac would be the patriarch’s exclusive progeny to enter into the
Abrahamic covenant and take possession of the Holy Land.

Why? It is because Ishmael had been born prior to his Abraham’s circumcision (and name change). In
spiritual jargon, these events were profoundly significant; they were game-changers. Both requisite
preparatory steps brought the patriarch to higher levels, facilitating his ability to better commune with
the Creator. In stark contrast was Isaac’s conception and birth, circumstances that carried mystique.

In sum, Isaac would solely carry his father’s mantle to civilization insofar as the miracle baby entered the
world with a halo, figuratively of course, that bespoke his hallowed spiritual readiness. As for Ishmael,
only the mundane marked his welcome into Abram’s and Hagar’s household.

For Yaakov (Jacob), a bitter famine coupled with his sons’ insistence comprised formidable tailwinds propelling him to Egypt. Still, he might have braved hunger and stayed put in beloved Canaan. Perhaps he could have resisted their incessant appeals had it not been for one irresistible magnet. Its force tugged and jerked mercilessly. Uppermost in the mind and heart of the aged patriarch was an image that he hadn’t been able to shake for two decades: Yosef’s (Joseph's) face.

Abravanel’s World of Torah Shemot Vol 1 pages 13-14