By Rabbi David Greenspoon
The Torah reading this week concludes with the famous passage instituting the mitzvah of tzitzit, threads of a rare blue called techelet to adorn the corner of Israelite garments. Scholars suggest these were exceptional additions, beyond the incredible cost of the murex dye for the techelet. The combination of wool and linen for these threads was usually prohibited for the general population because it was reserved as part of the priestly uniform. However, the tzitzit were an exception for ancient Israel and the early Jews. Simply looking at the hem of one’s garment reminded a person that they were part of the people of Israel, a community of priests and a sanctified people.
The power of these threads went beyond the visual. They were reminders of transcendent truth, and a call to the highest level of conduct in all of life’s pathways with a stark choice: one must choose holiness with intention, or one will choose harlotry by default. The ancient sages understood the blue color of the tzitzit ultimately as a sign of heaven. Our ancient ancestors understood the tzitzit as a sign that they were connected among their people, extended friends and family, with the presumption of acceptance and welcome.
Yet, there is another important thread that appears in this Shabbat’s sacred readings. The haftarah reading from Joshua prominently features a red cord. In the haftarah, two Israelite scouts were saved by using this red cord as an emergency exit from Jericho. An ancient tradition embraces the suspension of disbelief and suggests that one of these scouts was Judah and Tamar’s son Zerah (Gen. 38), and the red cord the very one that marked him as the first-born at birth. Their unlikely protector was a woman of the margins, literally. Rahab lived on the very wall of the city and worked on the margins of society. Rahab’s family would rely on the red cord as a sign for their safety when Jericho was attacked. Jewish tradition ultimately married Rahab to Joshua and made her the ancestress of eight prophets and one prophetess; one source suggests she was the ancestress of seven kings as well. The red cord is transformed from a sign of danger to a sign of deliverance. It becomes a sign for an absolute commitment to one’s vow. Its heroine uses it to move from the margins of a hard world into the center of a sacred people’s story.
Looking at these two discrete threads, they become symbolic. The blue of the tzitzit represents the larger relationship of peoplehood at any given time. The red of the cord represents a personal, family story that moves through time. It is easy to imagine them graphically as the x and y axis. But they are threads and are not simply graphed. The warp and woof of the loom connect them into a larger fabric, and even shapes their colors into patterns and designs. We are not simply the blue or red; we are their woven combination into purple. Our personhood and families exist within our peoplehood; conversely, our peoplehood is bereft without the fullest presence of our families and individuals. The Jewish tapestry suggested by these two Scriptural threads reminds us to appreciate both.
Rabbi David Greenspoon and Jewtique Concierge Rabbinic Services serve unaffiliated Jews in and beyond the National Capital area.
