Our Torah reading for this week, parashat Tetzaveh, continues the description of the Mishkan (i.e., “Tabernacle”), though the focus shifts to those who will serve within it, namely the kohanim (i.e., the priests of Israel). First Moses was instructed to tell the Israelites to bring pure olive oil for the lamps of the Menorah which the High Priest was to light every evening in the Holy Place. God then commanded Moses to ordain Aaron and his sons as priests and described the priestly garments they would wear while serving in the Tabernacle. The portion further describes the ordination process for the priests and gives a description of the Altar of Incense (ketoret ha’mizbe’ah).
In this audio broadcast presentation I provide a verse-by-verse reading of the Torah portion (in English), providing Hebrew insights throughout, and linking the truths of Torah to the glory of Yeshua our Messiah, the Light of the World. I hope you find it helpful, chaverim.
Podcast:
Yeshua likened His relationship with his followers in terms using the metaphor of a vine and its branches: “I am the true Vine (הַגֶּפֶן הָאֲמִתִּית), and you are the branches” (see John 15:1-5). We derive our identity, life and strength from being made part of His life… The purpose of the branch is to be a conduit of the life of the vine. Vine branches by themselves are of little value, apart from the manifestation of fruit; they cannot be used for building things and otherwise are regarded as bramble (Ezek. 15:2-4). Notice further that the vine branch cannot bear good fruit while it remains on the ground: it must “climb” upward and be elevated. And if you look closely at a vine, it is often difficult to see where the vine ends and the branches begin.
The goal of the Sinai revelation was not only the giving of the Ten Commandments to the Israelites but enshrining the Divine Presence within their hearts… In our Torah portion for this week (i.e., 
Sometimes in our afflictions we may feel lost, confused, and uncertain of ourselves. We dare not doubt God’s love for us, though we may wonder how He might use such affliction to mend our hearts… As C.S. Lewis once said, “We are not necessarily doubting that God will do the best for us; we are wondering how painful the best will turn out to be” (Letters: 1964). There is a trust issue in suffering, and an intimacy that comes through its fires. As Kierkegaard reminds us, “It is one thing to conquer in the hardship, to overcome the hardship as one overcomes an enemy, while continuing in the idea that the hardship is one’s enemy; but it is more than conquering to believe that the hardship is one’s friend, that it is not the opposition but the road, is not what obstructs but what develops, is not what disheartens but ennobles” (Four Upbuilding Discourses, 1844).
Life is often a messy (and painful) business for us. We are weak. We are tempted, and we regularly fail. We are filled with ambivalence; we contradict ourselves; we struggle; we falter, we sin. At times we may even feel lost and inconsolably alone. But faith is a gift from heaven – the gift of God’s presence, and as such the miracle attests that “God is with us,” even in our times of darkness, in moments of sadness, heartache, confusion, anger, and fear.
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There is a gap between the “real” and the “ideal,” between our present sense of exile and our hope that one day we will be in our heavenly home; there is an inherent and ongoing dualism we experience as we sojourn through our days. On the one hand, if we make time to reflect on what is “real,” we will eventually encounter the “Parmenidean” realm of “being,” that is, the totality of sheer existence, the inescapable presence that surrounds and pervades any “thing” whatsoever: the “ground” of existence; the timeless sense of unity, perfection, and so on. The heart’s response to this awareness is humble acceptance – to surrender to all that is — in wonder over the miracle of consciousness and the sheer gift of life itself. The “real” is what “is” and that is a monolithic mystery…