There Are No Small Mitzvos
Our Parsha begins with what seems like a very simple, even menial task: the removal of the ashes from the Alter. The Torah describes how the Kohen must put on special garments and carefully remove the deshen, the ashes that remain from the fire on the altar, which at first glance seems surprising because why does such a basic task require a formal ceremony and special clothing?
Rabbeinu Bechaya (1255-1340) explains that the Torah is teaching us the profound lesson that anyone who approaches a mitzvah must do so with humility. This idea can easily be understood if we compare it to how we behave in everyday life. When we are doing something important or going out to attend an event or doing something we value, we present our best selves. We’re clean, hair groomed, and we dress and act accordingly demonstrating that we treat the moment with significance. But when we do something simple or menial like raking leaves, cleaning, or taking out the trash, we approach it casually. It doesn’t feel important, so we don’t treat it as such.
The difference in how we present ourselves is a reflection in how we view the task—and how we view ourselves in relation to it. But imagine this scenario. Someone is working in a royal palace. Even though the job is simple, it is being done in the royal king’s palace, and that alone gives the task dignity; the setting transforms the act. For example, the cleaning crew in Buckingham Palace have dignified uniforms that include elegant bolero jackets.
The same is true in our relationship with HaShem. Even a task that might seem small—like removing ashes—is transformed when it is done in the Beis HaMikdash (Solomon’s Temple), in the service of Hashem. It is no longer “taking out the garbage,” it is an act of Divine service and therefore must be done with dignity and care. If someone treats such a task lightly, it is not just a reflection on the task, rather, it reflects a lack of appreciation for Who the task is for. By maintaining decorum even for seemingly menial tasks demonstrates that it requires a certain posture of humility rather than arrogance.
I once went to visit a prisoner in jail. While waiting to get through security, I overheard a conversation between a lawyer and his client, who was dressed in shorts and a T-shirt. The lawyer instructed him to dress in a more respectful manner in deference to the courtroom and judge. The client said he didn’t care; no one was going to tell him how to dress. That arrogant attitude will work to the client’s detriment not only in court, but also in a job interview or going on a date. If it’s all about dressing how you feel and not caring about a place or circumstance, the operative trait in arrogance.
Rabbeinu Bechaya explains if we do not see ourselves as humans serving the Almighty, then we are not truly recognizing that G-d is Master of the universe. In short, our dress and behavior define the relationship. This idea is reflected in the following story brought in the Gemora (Pesachim 57a). There was a Kohen (cleric) who would wrap his hands in cloth while performing the service, as if to distance himself from it—as if the work was beneath him.
That attitude was rejected. The message is clear: if one truly understands that this is the service of Hashem, there is nothing degrading about it. On the contrary, it is a great honor.
When King David brought the Ark to Jerusalem there was great fanfare—and he joyously danced in front of the Ark with all his might. His wife Michal, who had been raised in the royal home of King Saul, her father, criticized him, saying that such behavior was not befitting a king. David responded that before Hashem, no act of humility is too much. If anything, he had not humbled himself enough. This is the essence of avodas Hashem, a life guided by a relationship with G-d.
Having a relationship with G-d means we recognize and preserve His dignity without thinking about ours. In that light, even a simple and mundane act becomes elevated. Imagine an adult child who has to change an old and feeble parent’s diaper; the job is dirty but at the same time it is done lovingly, and is considered a mitzvah of the highest order.
Now we understand how taking out the ashes becomes an act of holiness. And perhaps that is the deeper message of this parsha: There is no such thing as a small mitzvah. The significance of the act is not defined by what we are doing, but by Who we are doing it for.
Good Shabbos