Mind what you wear!

There’s not much in Pirkei Avot about clothing. In fact, clothes don’t get a mention at all—unless you count crowns, that is. But we do learn about being clothed. In the first baraita of the sixth perek, immediately after the prolegomenon, we learn the following in the name of Rabbi Meir:

כָּל הָעוֹסֵק בַּתּוֹרָה לִשְׁמָהּ זוֹכֶה לִדְבָרִים הַרְבֵּה, וְלֹא עוֹד, אֶלָּא שֶׁכָּל הָעוֹלָם כֻּלּוֹ כְּדַאי הוּא לוֹ. נִקְרָא רֵֽעַ, אָהוּב, אוֹהֵב אֶת הַמָּקוֹם, אוֹהֵב אֶת הַבְּרִיּוֹת, מְשַׂמֵּֽחַ אֶת הַמָּקוֹם, מְשַׂמֵּֽחַ אֶת הַבְּרִיּוֹת, וּמַלְבַּשְׁתּוֹ עֲנָוָה וְיִרְאָה

Whoever studies Torah for Torah's sake merits many things; not only that, but [the creation of] the entire world is worthwhile for him alone. He is called a friend, beloved, a lover of God, a lover of humanity, a person who makes God happy, someone who makes humans happy. And the Torah enclothes him with humility and awe …

This is obviously a metaphor, since any talmid chacham who walks the streets clad in nothing but his humility and awe would soon attract quite the wrong sort of attention—but what is the significance of this metaphor?

Rabbenu Yonah surprisingly states that being wrapped in the garb of humility and awe is comparable to being immersed in water—which itself is a metaphor for water. Midrash Shmuel sticks closer to the concept of clothing when he comments that, just as chochmah, wisdom, is at the head of a person, humility is, as it were, his pair of sandals since, like humility itself, there is nothing lower.  But what does chochmah, rather than yirah, fear, have to do with this teaching? Explains Midrash Shmuel, reshit chochmah yirat Hashem (Tehillim 111:10): the first step towards wisdom is fear itself, fear of God.

Rabbi Abraham J. Twerski (Visions of the Fathers) picks up the metaphor and runs with it: humility is a garment which must be removed when necessary, since there are times when a person must show himself to be firm and decisive. Misguided humility can be destructive, and a true Torah scholar knows when to be humble and when not to be.

I can offer another plausible explanation. We recognise many people by their uniforms: the police, fire fighters, nurses, for example. On this basis we can identify them easily and feel confident that they have the skills and training that have earned them the right to wear their uniforms. So too, if we see a person who is, as it were, clothed in humility and deep respect, we are entitled to assume that the person who “wears” these characteristics actually possesses them. If not, then the clothes are a deceit, a false description of the person beneath them.

Is there any support for this? Possibly. The Chasid Yavetz utilises much the same idea, pointing out that a true tzaddik does not alternate between righteousness and unrighteousness but “wears” his finer qualities all the time (we might add, “like a uniform”). The garments of humility and awe are not undergarments, says the Chasid Yavetz: they are the visible over-garments that advertise a person’s true nature and qualities.

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Is what you wear, who you are?

This week’s Torah reading, Parashat Tetzaveh, is definitely one for real enthusiasts. There’s no exciting storyline, no confrontations, no miracles—just lots of detail, much of which is about priestly uniform and specifies what Kohanim, and especially the Kohen Gadol, must wear when going about their sacred duties. Countless generations of Torah scholars have discussed these sartorial details and explained their symbolic significance. We continue to learn from them today.

Though Pirkei Avot makes several references to other basic needs such as food, drink and sleep, it has almost nothing to say explicitly about clothes. There is just one reference to clothing and it comes almost incidentally as one of a large number of things that a person who studies Torah for its own sake deserves. In a baraita in the final perek Rabbi Meir teaches:

כָּל הָעוֹסֵק בַּתּוֹרָה לִשְׁמָהּ זוֹכֶה לִדְבָרִים הַרְבֵּה, וְלֹא עוֹד, אֶלָּא שֶׁכָּל הָעוֹלָם כֻּלּוֹ כְּדַאי הוּא לוֹ. נִקְרָא רֵֽעַ, אָהוּב, אוֹהֵב אֶת הַמָּקוֹם, אוֹהֵב אֶת הַבְּרִיּוֹת, מְשַׂמֵּֽחַ אֶת הַמָּקוֹם, מְשַׂמֵּֽחַ אֶת הַבְּרִיּוֹת, וּמַלְבַּשְׁתּוֹ עֲנָוָה וְיִרְאָה, וּמַכְשַׁרְתּוֹ לִהְיוֹת צַדִּיק, חָסִיד, יָשָׁר, וְנֶאֱמָן, וּמְרַחַקְתּוֹ מִן הַחֵטְא, וּמְקָרַבְתּוֹ לִידֵי זְכוּת, וְנֶהֱנִין מִמֶּֽנּוּ עֵצָה וְתוּשִׁיָּה, בִּינָה וּגְבוּרָה, שֶׁנֶּאֱמַר: לִי עֵצָה וְתוּשִׁיָּה, אֲנִי בִינָה, לִי גְבוּרָה, וְנוֹתֶֽנֶת לוֹ מַלְכוּת וּמֶמְשָׁלָה, וְחִקּוּר דִּין, וּמְגַלִּין לוֹ רָזֵי תוֹרָה, וְנַעֲשֶׂה כְּמַעְיָן הַמִּתְגַּבֵּר וּכְנָהָר שֶׁאֵינוֹ פוֹסֵק, וְהֹוֶה צָנֽוּעַ, וְאֶֽרֶךְ רֽוּחַ, וּמוֹחֵל עַל עֶלְבּוֹנוֹ, וּמְגַדַּלְתּוֹ וּמְרוֹמַמְתּוֹ עַל כָּל הַמַּעֲשִׂים

Whoever studies Torah for its own sake merits many things; what’s more, the whole world is fit for him. He is called: friend, beloved, lover of God, lover of people, one who rejoices in God and who rejoices in people. [The Torah] clothes him with humility and awe; it makes him fit to be righteous, pious, correct and faithful; it distances him from sin and brings him close to merit. From him, people enjoy counsel and wisdom, understanding and power, as it says: "Mine are counsel and wisdom, I am understanding, mine is power." [The Torah] grants him sovereignty, dominion and jurisprudence. Its secrets are revealed to him, and he becomes like an ever-increasing wellspring and an unceasing river. He becomes modest, patient and forgiving of insults. [The Torah] uplifts him and makes him greater than all creations (Avot 6:1).

Humility and awe are requirements for any Kohen, and especially the Kohen Gadol, if they seek to discharge their sacred functions in the Temple services. But why does Rabbi Meir talk of the Torah clothing a person in these qualities rather than just making him fit to receive them?

Unsurprisingly, traditional commentators generally focus on the importance of humility and awe, rather than on the issue of clothing, since these are the qualities to which not only Torah scholars but every sincere Jew seeks to acquire. But there are exceptions.

The Maharal (Derech Chaim) turns the baraita on its head. He teaches that, once a Torah scholar has mastered humility and awe, the Torah will clothe him in tiferet—a term often translated as “glory” but which has kabbalistic overtones to which the Maharal alludes. For Rabbi Yisrael Meir Lau (Yachel Yisrael) “clothing” is a means by which we express who we really are: if you are “clothed” in humility and awe, this means that you are effectively transmitting the message that you are that sort of person. In our own time, we quickly size up what sort of person stands before us when we take note of what they wear, so there is plainly merit in this explanation.

Rabbi Yosef Yavetz (the “Chasid Yavetz”) picks up on clothing too: one’s humility and awe should be with a person all the time, just like one’s clothes. In other words, one should be consistent in exemplifying these qualities, not being sometimes humble sometimes not.

 So what is the message for us today? Putting Rabbi Lau and the Chasid Yavetz together, we can conclude that (i) the humility and awe that we cultivate, assuming we manage to do so, should be regarded as the face we show to other people and that (ii) if we are indeed able to achieve humility and a sense of awe, we should do so on a consistent basis. If at all we let our standards slide, we should do so where no other human being can see us.

This applies to the Kohanim who serve in the Temple too. When they are wearing the clothing prescribed by God in Parashat Tetzaveh, they are sending out a message as to whom they serve and what sort of people they are. We should therefore treat them with respect and give a little thought to what serving God means to them—and to ourselves.

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