If you’ve spent any time with me in recent years, you may have noticed that I have a particular fondness for shoes. I LOVE shoes. The best ones are versatile and can take an outfit from dressy to casual and vice versa. The best part is that usually shoes fit no matter what other size issues or feelings I’m having with the rest of my body. I rarely have a “fat foot” day, and most of my shoes put a big smile on my face.

I have a particular penchant for Converse now that we’ve moved to Portland (where the parent company Nike is based), and when it comes to design, the sparklier, the better. My sequined high-top Converse are my favorite shoes. The minute I saw them my whole face lit up, and I knew I had to have them. I received them as a gift with the promise that if I wore them, I’d brighten other people’s days as much as they brightened mine. And every time I wear them, I get smiles and hugs and lots of awesome conversations. The shoes certainly don’t make the rabbi, but the rabbi’s shoes can definitely make people smile.

Our Torah reading this week comes from Parshat Tetzaveh. Parshat Tetzaveh details the specific clothing items that a priest and those close to him are to wear. This is special attire that distinguishes them from others in their service to God. These clothes are meant to add an aura of holiness to the priests as they complete their sacred duties. Since these vestments and garments are to be used for such a unique purpose, God also gives a special instruction regarding who is to make them. After we receive these specifics, we learn about the details of what is on each garment.

Notably, the priests do not receive shoes, as they do their work barefoot. They do, however, wear ornate tunics and clothing made specifically so that others will know that they are a priest. This is reflected today on our Torah itself, which wears ornate clothing so it will always be seen as precious and special. I read this text and wonder if we treated our bodies as the priests did – in other words if we dressed ourselves so that we were recognized as individual, unique, and special – would we be better able to celebrate personal style and choices?

My sparkly Converse are definitely a bold choice for a rabbi to don as footwear, but they also identify me and my personality. That’s an individual choice. While they may not be everyone’s first choice to wear, they certainly make me feel confident and proud, and that’s the feeling I want to impart to students and congregants.

Parshat Tetzaveh comes as a yearly reminder that while we shouldn’t judge each other based on clothes, clothes do have the ability to set us apart as individuals and the power to influence how we feel about ourselves. Wear what makes you you, just as the priests did and just as the Torah does. Wear what brings a smile to your face, because you deserve it.

I have a hard time with self control and portion control. I like sweets, I like salty foods, I like a glass of wine. I can usually set a limit for myself, but there are moments of weakness when I simply want to eat all the food I see. In particular, my sugar addiction is so strong that I actually wake up excited to take my daily vitamin, which comes in the form of a gummy bear. But, I have to remind myself that just because it is sweet and delicious does not mean that I can take more than the recommended dose. 

As with so many things, moderation is key, and there are limits to safe usage. Whether we’re talking about food or video game playing, watching TV or taking medicine, there are guidelines for appropriate use so that we maintain a healthy life and lifestyle. The Torah drives home this point in Parshat Tetzaveh. Parshat Tetzaveh begins with the instructions on using the anointing oils by the high priests and the directions for the sacred clothing of Aaron and his sons. It continues with the directions for building the breastplate and the tunic, the jacket, and the pants for the priests and then details how to sanctify Aaron and his sons in seven days of service. 

What I find intriguing is the final direction in the parshah. The final section of this text details the safe and appropriate use of the incense and other spices of the tabernacle. This is the first time that the Israelites will be engaging in this type of ritual and so, like the pharmacist distributing a medication for the first time, the Torah gives clear guidelines as to where, when, and how much might be used. As a refined recipe calls for just a pinch of a stronger spice, so too the Torah reminds us just a pinch of spice, a bit of incense can go a long way in establishing both ritual and sacred space.

A little goes a long way. Often we think of life in terms of bold flavors, grand gestures, big ideas, and major milestone moments. However, this week the Torah is reminding us that while all of those have their place in the world, the rest of life is made up of the intricate, delicate details. A light dusting of an unusual flavor, the handwritten thank-you card, a pink sunset – these are the things that bring life pleasure.

Is God easily startled? It sounds like an odd question until you examine this week’s Torah portion. In describing the clothes the priests are to wear, the Torah says, “Aaron shall wear it while officiating, so that the sound of it is heard when he comes into the sanctuary before the Lord and when he goes out, that he may not die.” Is Aaron supposed to tie a bell or some sort of collar around himself to announce his presence? Certainly there is great value in knowing what’s coming, who’s coming, and when they’re coming.

If in fact God wishes not to be startled, I can sympathize. I startle very easily. I tend to zone out extraneous noises, usually because I end up so focused on whatever I’m doing. However, that means that I could be so intently working on a project that I miss the sound of someone walking into the room, and suddenly I jump because there’s someone behind me. At these jumpy moments, my heart startles and races, my adrenaline is pumping, and it takes me a good few minutes to calm back down. And no matter how often this happens (or how often I remind the rest of my family I startle easily) someone or something still manages to get me at least once a week. The only one in our house that doesn’t need to announce himself is our dog Stanley. The tags on his collar jingle so loudly that I can hear him coming from the other end of the house.

In Parshat Tetzaveh, the Torah portion we read this week, God gives the commandments for what clothing the priests will wear, how they should be fashioned, and the materials that should be used in their fashioning. The priests are designated to wear special clothing that distinguishes them from others in the service of God. These clothes are meant to add an aura of holiness to the priests as they complete their work. Since these vestments and garments are to be used for such a unique purpose, God also gives a special instruction regarding who is to make them. Aside from these verses on apparel, the remainder of the parshah is mostly centered around the role of the priest.

But of course to me the most interesting thing we learn from this section is that it’s forbidden to enter a room without first announcing your presence. Sometimes we suggest, in a variety of circumstances, that “half the battle is showing up.” Well in this case, along with the notion of respect that comes from announcing yourself, the Torah teaches us that showing up is pretty darn important. Both you and the person you are meeting should be equally aware of the encounter about to happen, and each “meeting” we have is also an opportunity to encounter the divine. Affording our interactions this extra level of formality is another way the Torah lifts up the mundane and helps us find meaning in everything we do.

My wedding band is inscribed with the words “As a seal upon your heart” in Hebrew. Originally from Kohelet (Ecclesiastes), this verse on my finger serves as a daily reminder in several ways. When Duncan and I were ring shopping, I wanted the “plain gold band” we’d need for the ceremony to also be one that we both felt comfortable wearing every day. Even if it was simply solid gold, I wanted something that was both beautiful and meaningful. My mother shared with me that she and my father had this verse inscribed on the inside of their rings. It didn’t take much convincing to get Duncan on board, and now we each have a constant symbol of our connection to one another as well as the link to my parents and their love too.

The memories we carry are often attached to certain unforgettable details like a song playing at a specific moment or the smells of a certain location. This also happens with clothing and jewelry. Maybe you remember down to the last detail the outfit you were wearing when you brought your first child home from the hospital. Perhaps there’s a piece of jewelry passed down from generation to generation. The tallit you wear on Shabbat and the person it belonged to before you may hold a special place in your heart.

Parshat Tetzaveh, which we read this week, details the specific clothing items that a priest and those close to him are to wear. This is special attire that distinguishes them from others in their service to God. These clothes are meant to add an aura of holiness to the priests as they complete their sacred duties. Since these vestments and garments are to be used for such a unique purpose, God also gives a special instruction regarding who is to make them. After we receive these specifics, we learn about the details of what is on each garment.

Chapter 28, verse 29 teaches: “Aaron shall carry the names of the sons of Israel on the breast piece of decision over his heart, when he enters the sanctuary, for remembrance before the Lord at all times.” That is to say that in all of Aaron’s work, he is to carry the “seal” upon his heart of those who have come before him. The high priest, in his role, is beholden to the names, experiences, and fates of those who came before him. The Ba’al Shem Tov, a Chassidic master, shares “Remembering is the source of redemption, while forgetting leads to exile.” Our identities have been shaped by those who came before us not only in their actions, but in our memories of them.

While we may not have a high priest today, we too are linked to those came before us. Whether the memory is preserved in the use of your great-grandmother’s candlesticks on Shabbat or telling the same jokes each year at Pesach, the sharing of that past is what will ensure a future.

My wedding band reminds me of the strength and love of my parents’ marriage and of the dedication Duncan and I have to each other to maintain our own bond. May we all be blessed first with the sweetness of fond memories and second with the kavanah, the intention, to learn and grow from the lessons they teach.