An Eternal Fire in a Destroyed World
Rabbi Reuven SchrierWithout the Beit HaMikdash, the parshiyot of Sefer Vayikra feel distant and irrelevant. But Chazal hint that the avodah in the Mikdash is immortal and constant. Rashi notes that the language of tzav – used in the opening command of our parshah – demands alacrity for all generations. The mitzvah of the korban olah never ends.
Moreover, the Torah commands that the fire of the mizbeach never be extinguished. The verse calls it “אש תמיד” – a continuous fire, implying permanence. But this is difficult: how can the Torah speak of eternal mitzvos, with assurances that they will last forever, when for most of our national history they have been impossible to fulfill?
Rav Yaakov Kaminetsky (Emet LeYaakov, Tzav) addresses this question by noting a different phenomenon. In the sefarim of Chaggai, Zechariah, and Malachi, the Navi is rebukes the people for neglecting the mitzvah of building the Mikdash. But the Gemara Megillah (14a) teaches that any nevuah included in the canon of Tanach is, by definition, relevant to all generations of Jews. The message is immortal – it cannot be limited to a particular time or place.
Which begs the question: how could a Jew living under brutal Roman persecution, in the aftermath of the Bar Kochva revolt, be rebuked for failing to build the Mikdash?
Rav Yaakov explains that while the physical performance of these mitzvot may be impossible, the lessons that they are meant to instill remain fully binding. We may not be able to build the Mikdash in stone, but we can still build a dwelling place for Hashem in our hearts.
Perhaps this is the deeper tragedy. We have not yet merited a complete redemption specifically because we have neglected the eternal messages of what the Mikdash represents. When Yerushalayim stood in all her glory, her very existence shaped the people – awakening their spiritual awareness and strengthening their commitment to live Godly lives. The holy city instructed us and revealed our inner spiritual grandeur – our ability to transcend our narrow minded personal existence and totally dedicate ourselves to the malchus of Hashem.
Yerushalayim was destroyed because we lost hold of the internal message she was meant to convey, reducing her to an empty shell. What purpose is there to a mizbeach that no longer reflects the message of the olah – absolute, uncompromising dedication to avodat Hashem? And why should there be an eternal fire, symbolizing passion and alacrity for Divine service – if that fire no longer burns within us?
The irony is piercing: we will only reclaim the physical manifestation of the avodah when we restore this inner reality. Only when we prove that we can again champion her legacy will we prove ourselves worthy of her complete restoration.
