S.A.L.T. – PARASHAT TETZAVEH

By Rav David Silverberg

Motzaei Shabbat

            The Torah in Parashat Tetzaveh describes the various garments worn by the kohen gadol, including the choshen (breastplate), which was fastened to the efod (apron).  The Gemara in Masekhet Yoma (72a) establishes that one who detaches the choshen from the efod transgresses a Torah prohibition.  When the Torah writes, “and the choshen shall not come loose from the efod,” it does not simply describe the manner in which the garments shall be arranged, but rather introduces a prohibition against detaching them from one another.  This prohibition is referred to as “lo yizach.”

            The Rambam codifies this halakha in his Hilkhot Kelei Ha-mikdash (9:10), where he writes that whoever detaches the choshen from the efod “derekh kilkul” – in a destructive manner – transgresses this Torah violation.  According to the Rambam, this prohibition applies only to a destructive act; one who separates the two garments without ruining either one, it appears, has not violated this prohibition.

            The Sefer Ha-chinukh appeared to have understood this prohibition differently.  In mitzva 100, the Chinukh describes the law of “lo yizach,” and makes no mention of a condition that the act be done in a destructive manner.  Interestingly, however, the Chinukh adds a condition that the Rambam does not mention, namely, that the act must be done during the avoda, as the kohen gadol performs the ritual service in the Temple.  It thus emerges that according to the Rambam, one transgresses “lo yizach” only by separating the two garments in a destructive manner, but at any time, whereas according to the Chinukh, one violates this prohibition by separating the garments in any manner, but only during the performance of the avoda.

            Rav Binyamin Sorotzkin, in his Nachalat Binyamin (Telzstone, 5759), notes that these two issues closely relate to one another.  It seems that the Rambam and the Chinukh viewed the nature of this prohibition from two very different perspectives.  The Rambam understood “lo yizach” as a law relevant to the maintenance of these two objects.  The Torah requires fashioning the bigdei kehuna in a certain manner, and forbids ruining them.  Thus, just as it is forbidden to tear one of the priestly garments (“lo yikarei’a” – 28:32; see Yoma 72a), similarly, it is forbidden to ruin the attachment of the choshen to the efod.  According to the Rambam, “lo yizach” is a law relevant to the proper treatment of the bigdei kehuna, which must be handled respectfully and properly maintained.  As such, this prohibition is limited to a destructive act, and it applies anytime.

            The Chinukh, on the other hand, understood “lo yizach” as relating to the manner in which the bigdei kehuna are worn.  The issue at stake is not the respect for the garments per se, but rather the proper manner of wearing them.  The Torah demands that the choshen be worn directly and firmly on the kohen gadol’s chest as he performs the avoda, and thus forbids separating it from the efod.  Hence, this prohibition is violated regardless of whether one ruins the garments in the process of separating them, since the result is that the choshen is worn improperly.  And, “lo yizach” applies only as the kohen gadol performs avoda, when he is required to wear his special vestments in the prescribed manner, with the breastplate firmly attached to the chest.

            Rav Sorotzkin adds that these different perspectives yield different conclusions regarding another issue, as well.  The choshen was attached to the efod both on top and on the bottom.  There were two chains that connected the two top edges of the choshen to the shoulder straps of the efod (28:22-25), as well as a string (made of tekhelet) that bound the two lower edges to the belt of the efod (28:28).  The question thus arises as to whether one violates the prohibition of “lo yizach” by detaching the upper edges of the choshen from the efod, or even if he detaches only the lower edges of the choshen.  In the second instance, where one detaches the lower edges of the choshen from the belt of the efod, the two garments are still attached to one another, but the choshen will dangle and swing to and from the kohen gadol’s chest.  In such a case, the garments are still generally intact and in their proper form, but the choshen is not worn in the manner prescribed by the Torah, as it is not held firmly in place on the kohen gadol’s chest.  It stands to reason that according to the Chinukh, who viewed this prohibition in the context of the proper manner of wearing the choshen, one would violate “lo yizach” even if he detaches only the bottom edges of the choshen, as it is then not worn properly.  This is the position taken by the Sefer Yerei’im (317).

            The Rambam, however, in his presentation of this halakha, speaks of “lo yizach” in the particular context of the chains that connected the upper edges of the choshen to the shoulder straps of the efod.  This might suggest that he restricted the prohibition to a case where one detaches the top of the choshen, such that it falls down and is not in position at all.  Consistent with his perspective on the nature of “lo yizach,” the Rambam maintained that one violates this prohibition only if he ruins the garments.  If one detaches the bottom of the efod from the choshen, then although the choshen will then dangle, he has not ruined the basic formation of these two garments.  It is only by detaching the choshen from the top, such that it falls downward on the efod, that one ruins these garments and violates “lo yizach.”

Sunday

            Many commentators noted the obvious peculiarity in the sequence in which God presented the commands concerning the Mishkan and its furnishings.  Generally speaking, these commands follow a clear and rational sequence, beginning with the most sacred article – the aron – and then proceeding to the shulchan and menorah, the furnishings situated in the less sacred of the two chambers of the Mishkan.  We then find the commands regarding the structure of the Mishkan, followed by the courtyard around it.  What is missing from this presentation is the mizbach ha-ketoret (also known as the mizbach ha-zahav), the incense altar, which was situated inside the Mishkan together with the menorah and the shulchan.  Surprisingly, the Torah does not mention the mizbach ha-ketoret until the end of Parashat Tetzaveh, after its discussion of the bigdei kehuna (priestly garments) and the milu’im ceremony whereby the kohanim were consecrated.  Rather than include the mizbach ha-ketoret together with the other furnishings of the Mishkan, the Torah omits this altar from its discussion of the Mishkan, and seems to add it as an afterthought, of sorts, as a parenthetical note that it, too, must be constructed as part of the building of the Mishkan.

            The omission of the mizbach ha-ketoret from the basic discussion of the Mishkan led some to believe that this altar served a peripheral purpose in the Mishkan, and it is therefore not considered integral to the Mishkan as are the other furnishings.  For this reason, the Torah added the mizbach ha-ketoret after concluding the basic discussion of the Mishkan and the kohanim, rather than mentioning it along with the other features of the Mishkan.

            Rav Asher Zelig Weiss, in his Minchat Asher, develops this conclusion in light of a passage in the Rambam’s Sefer Ha-mitzvot.  In mitzvat asei 20, the Rambam lists as one of the Torah’s 248 commands the obligation to build a Beit Ha-mikdash, and he claims that this obligation includes the various furnishings of the Mikdash.  This is in contrast to the view of the Ramban (in his critique to Sefer Ha-mitzvot – asei 33), who held that the obligation to build a Mikdash refers only to the building.  The furnishings are required not by force of this Biblical command, but rather to facilitate the rituals which the Torah obligates us to perform in the Mikdash.  In any event, according to the Rambam’s view, the obligation to build a Mikdash requires as well constructing the various furnishings of the Mikdash.  Rav Weiss notes, however, that in this context the Rambam lists the various furnishings – but uses the term “ha-mizbei’ach” (“the altar”), in the singular form.  Even though there were two altars in the Mishkan and Beit Ha-mikdash, the Rambam appears to indicate that only one of the two altars is included in the mitzva to build a Mikdash.  Rav Weiss proposed that the Rambam refers specifically to the mizbach ha-ola, the altar upon which sacrifices were offered, and not the mizbach ha-ketoret.  In light of the placement in the Torah of the section dealing with the mizbach ha-ketoret, the Rambam concluded that it is not integral to the Mikdash.  Therefore, although the command to build a Mikdash includes the command to build the furnishings, it does not include the command to build the mizbach ha-ketoret, which is not essential to the Mikdash.

            Rav Weiss adds a possible practical ramification of this distinction between the mizbach ha-zahav and the other Temple furnishings.  He cites a comment of the Ra’avad claiming that it is forbidden to move one of the furnishings of the Temple from its designated location.  It seems that in the Ra’avad’s view, moving one of the furnishings undermines the structure of the Mikdash required by force of the mitzva to build a Temple.  But if we assume that the mizbach ha-ketoret is not integral to the structure of the Mikdash, then it would not be included in this prohibition.  It would be permissible to move the mizbach ha-ketoret from its designated spot in the Temple, as this does not affect the basic structure of the Temple, since this altar is not deemed an integral feature of the building.

Monday

            The Torah in Parashat Tetzaveh commands Benei Yisrael to make special garments for the kohanim “le-khavod u-le’tif’aret” (“for honor and glory” – 28:2).  The Ramban, commenting on this phrase, suggests the Torah here perhaps introduces the condition of “lishmah” – making the priestly vestments with the specific intention that they will be used for this purpose.  By instructing that the clothes be made “for honor and glory,” the Torah indicates that this must be the intention of the artisans as they prepare the vestments.

            Later writers noted that the Rambam appears to have disagreed with this theory proposed by the Ramban.  Nowhere throughout his discussion of the priestly vestments in Hilkhot Kelei Ha-mikdash does the Rambam make any mention of such a condition, that the garments must be made “lishmah,” especially for the purpose of serving as bigdei kehuna (the garments of the kohanim).  This is in contrast to the furnishings of the Mikdash, regarding which the Rambam explicitly codifies the requirement of “lishmah” (Hilkhot Beit Ha-bechira 20).  Apparently, the Rambam distinguished between the Temple furnishings and the priestly vestments, applying the requirement of “lishmah” with regard to the former, but not the latter.

            Rav Asher Zelig Weiss, in his Minchat Asher, noted that this debate between the Rambam and the Ramban likely reflects a more general question concerning the formal halakhic classification of the bigdei kehuna.  Namely, are they considered kelei shareit – sacred articles of the Temple, similar to the altars, the menorah and their accessories, for example, or do the bigdei kehuna comprise their own category, and are thus not subject to the same rules that apply to the Temple furnishings?  The Rambam, by distinguishing between the bigdei kehuna and the Temple furnishings with respect to “lishmah,” apparently felt that the priestly garments do not belong to the same halakhic category as the Temple furnishings.  Indeed, as Rav Weiss notes, the Rambam discusses the laws of the Temple furnishings in Hilkhot Beit Ha-bechira, whereas the laws relevant to the bigdei kehuna are presented in the next section, in Hilkhot Kelei Ha-mikdash.  This arrangement is, quite likely, a function of the Rambam’s perspective on the bigdei kehuna, as a category that stands separate and apart from the category of kelei shareit.

            The Ramban, however, who suggests applying the provision of “lishmah” to the priestly garments, may have ascribed to bigdei kehuna the formal status of kelei shareit – a view advanced by Tosafot in a number of contexts.  In Masekhet Kiddushin (54a), Tosafot write that if somebody misuses one of the priestly garments for his own purposes, it nevertheless retains its status of halakhic sanctity.  Whereas generally me’ila (misusing sacred property) results in the loss of the item’s status of sanctity, the kelei shareit retain this status even after misuse.  Tosafot comment that bigdei kehuna are included in the category of kelei shareit, and their status is therefore unaffected by me’ila.  The Ritva, in his commentary to Masekhet Kiddushin, disagrees, claiming that bigdei kehuna lose their status of sanctity when they are misused, like ordinary objects of hekdesh (belonging to the Temple treasury), and do not fall under the exceptional category of kelei shareit.

            Tosafot express this view also in Masekhet Zevachim (24a), in discussing the Gemara’s comment that Halakha forbids a chatzitza (interruption) with regard to kelei shareit.  Rashi explains this to mean that when a kohen collects the blood from the neck of a sacrificial animal after slaughtering, his hands must come in direct contact with the pail.  Tosafot, however, explain differently, claiming that the Gemara refers to the bigdei kehuna, which must be worn directly on the kohen’s skin.  Revealingly, Tosafot interpreted the term “kelei shareit” in the Gemara as a reference to the bigdei kehuna, likely expressing the view that bigdei kehuna have the same status as the sacred articles and utensils of the Mikdash.  It stands to reason that Tosafot would subscribe to the Ramban’s theory that the bigdei kehuna must be manufactured “lishmah,” just like the sacred furnishings of the Temple.

Tuesday

            The Torah in Parashat Tetzaveh describes the bigdei kehuna, the special garments worn by the kohanim and the kohen gadol.  The garments of the kohen gadol included the choshen (breastplate), in which the Torah commands placing the Urim Ve-tumim (28:30), a kind of oracle that the kohen gadol would consult for guidance on certain matters.  It is commonly assumed that the Urim Ve-tumim was consulted only on matters of general national concern, such as whether or not to go to war.  Surprisingly, however, Targum Yonatan Ben Uziel (to 28:15) writes that the Urim Ve-tumim was consulted also in situations where a Bet Din could not reach a definitive ruling.  Targum Yonatan points to this service of the Urim Ve-tumim as one of the reasons why the Torah refers to the kohen gadol’s breastplate as the “choshen ha-mishpat” (“breastplate of justice” – 28:15), as it clarified difficult legal questions.

            Several writers (including Rav Moshe Sternbuch, in his Ta’am Ve-da’at, and Rav Shammai Ginsburg, in his Imrei Shammai), raised the question of how judges could consult with the Urim Ve-tumim for guidance regarding legal questions.  The famous principle of “lo va-shamayim hi” establishes that Torah matters are to be decided based on scholarly analysis, in accordance with Torah principles, and not through prophetic or quasi prophetic media.  Seemingly, just as a prophet may not rule on halakhic matters on the basis of prophetic revelation, similarly, it would be forbidden to enlist the services of the Urim Ve-tumim to receive a “heavenly” response to halakhic questions.  The basis for deciding Torah law is the Torah that has been revealed to us, not any “heavenly” source.  It therefore seems reasonable to assume that the Urim Ve-tumim was accessed only for matters that did not involve Torah law, such as the prospects of success in a military or diplomatic campaign.  Yet, Targum Yonatan writes that the Urim Ve-tumim was used even for guidance in resolving judicial matters.

            In fact, as a number of scholars noted, the Gemara appears to explicitly reject the possibility of consulting the Urim Ve-tumim for halakhic guidance.  In Masekhet Eiruvin (45a), the Gemara discusses the incident told in Sefer Shemuel I (23) where the Pelishtim ransacked the granaries of the region of Ke’ila, threatening the residents’ food supply.  David, who was then fleeing from King Shaul, consulted with the Urim Ve-tumim as to whether he and his men should go and wage war against the Pelishtim in Ke’ila.  The Gemara briefly entertains the possibility that this was a halakhic question, as to whether David and his men were permitted to wage his battle against the Pelishtim on Shabbat.  But the Gemara then immediately dismisses such a possibility, noting, “The Bet Din of Shemuel the Ramatite was available!”  The Gemara proceeds to explain that David inquired as to whether a military campaign against the Pelishtim would succeed, and did not pose a halakhic query.  Rashi interprets the Gemara’s comment to mean that matters of halakhic permissibility are not resolved through consultation with the Urim Ve-tumim, and should rather be brought to competent halakhic experts.  The Gemara’s comment thus appears to run in direct opposition to the claim of Targum Yonatan that legal matters were resolved through the Urim Ve-tumim.

            Rav Yosef Chayim Sofer (Rosh Yeshiva of Yeshivat Kaf Ha’chayim in Jerusalem), in an article printed in the journal Bikurei Yosef (5757), discusses this topic at length, and defends the position of Targum Yonatan.  He claims that prophetic media – such as the Urim Ve-tumim – may be used for halakhic guidance in the absence of a reasonable alternative.  Rav Sofer notes that in the Gemara’s discussion of the incident of Ke’ila, the Gemara does not actually state that the Urim Ve-tumim may not be used for halakhic guidance.  Rather, it said only that Shemuel and his Bet Din were available – implying that consulting with the Urim Ve-tumim in this case would have been forbidden only because there was an alternative source of guidance.  But under circumstances where competent halakhic guidance is unavailable, it would be appropriate to bring the query to the Urim Ve-tumim oracle.  Thus, the Targum Yonatan may indeed be correct that the Urim Ve-tumim was used to resolve difficult legal questions which the Bet Din was incapable of deciding.  In such situations, when the issue at hand could not be resolved through the ordinary method of scholarly deliberation and analysis, the Urim Ve-tumim was available as a valid and authoritative source of guidance.

Wednesday

            Yesterday we discussed the Urim Ve-tumim, the oracle worn as part of the choshen, the breastplate of the kohen gadol, and which the nation’s leaders would consult to receive God’s response to various queries.  We noted the comment of Targum Yonatan ben Uziel in Parashat Tetzaveh (28:15) that the Urim Ve-tumim was consulted even in situations where a Bet Din was unable to reach a definitive legal decision.  This comment gives rise to the question of whether prophetic or quasi prophetic means may be employed in the process of reaching halakhic/legal decisions.  We cited a number of writers who claimed that, at least according to Targum Yonatan, such means are valid if there is no possibility of reaching a decision through the standard method of scholarly analysis.  Although we generally follow the rule of “lo va-shamayim hi,” which means that Torah decisions are to be made through the principles revealed to us in the Torah, and not on the basis of “heavenly” or prophetic means, such means are valid in the absence of an adequate alternative.

            Rav Yaakov Chayim Sofer of Jerusalem, in his article on this subject in the journal Bikurei Yosef (5757), cites several other sources indicating that the Urim Ve-tumim was, or could be, used to resolve halakhic questions.  In Masekhet Eiruvin (63a), the Gemara asserts that Elazar, who served as kohen gadol after the passing of his father, Aharon, was punished for giving halakhic instruction in the presence of Moshe Rabbenu.  After the battle against Midyan, Elazar spoke to the soldiers about the procedures that were required before the food utensils seized from Midyan could be used (Bamidbar 31:21-24).  The Gemara comments that Elazar acted wrongly by delivering this discourse in the presence of Moshe, his teacher.  Even though Elazar attributed this information to his teacher, he nevertheless transgressed the prohibition of “moreh halakha bi’fnei rabo” – issuing halakhic rulings in one’s rabbi’s presence.  As a result of this offense, Elazar forfeited the privilege of being consulted by Yehoshua.  The Gemara cites a verse from earlier in Sefer Bamidbar (27:21) in which God mentions that Yehoshua, upon succeeding Moshe as the nation’s leader, would ask Elazar, the kohen gadol, to consult the Urim Ve-tumim.  However, as the Gemara notes, nowhere do we find Yehoshua submitting such inquiries.  The Gemara writes that Elazar lost this privilege when he brazenly taught Torah in his uncle’s presence.

            Rashi, commenting on this Gemara, writes that had Elazar not committed this offense, Yehoshua would have consulted the Urim Ve-tumim through Elazar with regard to halakhic matters.  As the Rashash noted, Rashi’s comments clearly assume that the Urim Ve-tumim could be used as a source of halakhic guidance.  It thus seems that Rashi, like Targum Yonatan, held that the Urim Ve-tumim could, at least under certain circumstances, be consulted to resolve halakhic queries.  (The Rashash raises the question of why such consultation did not violate the precept of “lo va-shamayim hi.”  He apparently felt that this rule applied even in when a definitive conclusion could not be reached through ordinary means.)

            Another interesting source relevant to this topic is a brief comment of Tosafot in Masekhet Gittin.  The context is the intriguing story told there in the Gemara of King Shelomo’s search for the shamir, a worm that was capable of carving the stones that were needed for building the Beit Ha-mikdash.  The Gemara relates that King Shelomo did not know where he could find a shamir, and his only recourse was to consult demons.  Tosafot comment, “They did not want to consult the Urim Ve-tumim when they could consult somebody else.”  Interestingly, Tosafot assert that even for non-halakhic matters, the Urim Ve-tumim was used sparingly.  Even for matters of national importance such as the Beit Ha-mikdash, King Shelomo was not prepared to consult the Urim Ve-tumim before exhausting every other avenue of attaining his goals.  (And, as the Gemara proceeds to relate, obtaining the information regarding the whereabouts of the shamir proved to be quite a formidable task.)  He understood that he must take personal initiative and exert effort before appealing for supernatural assistance.  Rather than taking the convenient route of immediately consulting the Urim Ve-tumim, the nation’s leaders were to first exhaust every other means of solving their problems and overcoming obstacles, and turn to the kohen gadol’s oracle only as a last resort.

Thursday

            We read in Parashat Tetzaveh of the me’il, the robe worn by the kohen gadol.  Among the unique features of the me’il is the requirement to line the bottom of the robe with bells.  The Torah ascribes great importance to these bells, and writes, “His [the kohen gadol’s] sound will be heard when he enters the Sanctum, before the Lord, and when he leaves, so that he does not die” (28:35).

            Why did the Torah require the kohen gadol to wear bells, and why were they so significant?

            Rav Yaakov Mecklenberg, in his Ha-ketav Ve-ha’kabbala, draws an association between the bells of the me’il and tzitzit.  The obligation to affix fringes to the corners of our garments is intended to provide a constant reminder of our obligations to the Almighty: “You shall see it, and you shall [then] be mindful of all the commandments of the Lord and perform them, and you will not go astray after your heart and your soul that you would otherwise lust after” (Bamidbar 15:39).  People have certain natural tendencies that threaten to lead them away from Torah observance, and we are therefore commanded to wear tzitzit as a constant reminder of our loyalty to God’s laws.  Rav Mecklenberg claims that the kohen gadol, the nation’s most prominent religious figure, needs an even stronger reminder of his obligations to God.  The bells ring every time he moves, and thus provide a more constant reminder that he is the servant of the Almighty.  While for the rest of us it suffices to wear tzitzit, the kohen gadol must wear bells so that his obligations to God will always be at the forefront of his consciousness.

            Others, however, suggested a different explanation of the symbolic significance of the kohen gadol’s bells.  Anytime the kohen gadol moved or motioned with his body, even in seclusion, he could be heard from a distance.  This might represent the fact that a leader’s every action makes a “sound,” it reaches the people’s ears and has an impact.  Even in the privacy of his home, a religious leader must adhere the highest standards of piety, because everything he does has a way of becoming public.  According to this approach, the bells serve as a constant reminder not of the kohen gadol’s devotion to God, but rather of the far-reaching influence of his every move.  It reminds him to remain at all times far above suspicion, to avoid even permissible behavior that might be misconstrued or could otherwise bring dishonor to his position and to God.

And, by extension, the bells of the me’il remind all of us to carefully weigh and measure every move we make and every word we speak, with the understanding that our actions and speech often have far-reaching effects, producing “sounds” that could be “heard” even from a distance.

Friday

            The Torah in Parashat Tetzaveh introduces the mitzva of the tamid, the daily sacrifice that was offered on the altar each morning and afternoon.  In concluding its discussion of this korban, God says to Moshe that it is offered “at the entrance to the Tent of Meeting, before the Lord, where I will convene with you and speak to you” (29:42).  The implication of this verse is that God spoke to Moshe in the courtyard around the Mishkan (“at the entrance to the Tent of Meeting”), near the mizbach ha-ola, the outdoor altar upon which the tamid and other sacrifices were offered.

            The Berayta De-mlekhet Ha-Mishkan (cited in Torah Sheleima) actually cites different opinions on this subject.  One view, attributed to a student of Rabbi Yishmael, accepts the straightforward implication of this verse, that God spoke to Moshe outside the Mishkan, near the mizbach ha-ola.  Others, however, disagree, and claim that God convened with Moshe inside the Mishkan.  Rabbi Natan held that God spoke to Moshe at the site of the mizbach ha-ketoret (the incense altar inside the Mishkan), whereas Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai maintained that this occurred near the site of the mizbach ha-ketoret.  In any event, according to both Rabbi Natan and Rabbi Shimon, the meetings took place inside the Mishkan, as opposed to the view of Rabbi Yishmael’s student – and the implication of this verse – that God spoke to Moshe outside the Mishkan.

            We might, at first glance, question this entire discussion on the basis of an explicit verse in Parashat Teruma (25:22): “I shall meet with you there; I shall speak with you from atop the kaporet, from in between the two keruvim that are atop the Ark of Testimony…” Here, the Torah writes explicitly that God spoke to Moshe from the kodesh ha-kodashim, the inner sanctum of the Mishkan, from atop the ark.  In the aforementioned berayta, however, the Tanna’im argue as to whether God spoke to Moshe in the exterior chamber of the Mishkan, at or near the incense altar, or outside the Mishkan – without anyone raising the possibility that this occurred inside the kodesh ha-kodashim.  Apparently, as noted by Rav Menachem Kasher (Torah Sheleima to 29:42, note 146), the Tanna’im distinguished between the source of God’s “voice,” so-to-speak, and the place where Moshe stood.  The verse in Parashat Teruma tells that when God spoke to Moshe the sound originated from atop the aron.  The Tanna’im debate the question of whether Moshe stood during these encounters inside the Mishkan, or outside, by the mizbach ha-ola, while agreeing that the sound he heard originated from the ark in the kodesh ha-kodashim.

            Interestingly enough, the Ra’avad, in his commentary to Torat Kohanim (Acharei Mot, 1), writes that Moshe stood inside the kodesh ha-kodashim when he spoke with God – a view which does not appear to follow either opinion recorded in the Berayta De-melekhet Ha-Mishkan.  (See also the two views cited by Rashi in his commentary to his verse.)

            In considering the different views on this subject, we might suggest that they reflect a broader issue than the particular question of where Moshe stood when he spoke to God.  Possibly, the Sages allude here to the question of how one encounters God – “outdoors” or “indoors.”  According to one view, Moshe had to go inside the Mishkan – and possibly even to the kodesh ha-kodashim – in order to meet with the Almighty.  This might reflect the perspective that encountering God requires a person to withdraw from the world, to retreat from his earthly existence and enter the “sanctum,” secluding himself in pure holiness, as symbolized by the Mishkan.  The other opinion, however, maintains that encountering God occurs specifically outside the Mishkan, “at the entrance to the Tent of Meeting,” at the point of intersection between the sacred and the mundane.  According to this view, connecting with the Almighty does not mean withdrawing from the world, but rather merging the earthly and heavenly realms.  It specifically here, where the two intersect, where a person is able to hear God speak and receive His commands.  Whereas the first view requires leaving the “ordinary” world and entering the Sanctuary to connect with the Almighty, the second view maintains that this encounter occurs outside the Sanctuary, through the application of the ideals it represents to the mundane life lived outside its doors.