This Shabbat as we read Parasha Tzav, we find ourselves standing at a beautiful intersection of sacred time. On the one hand, we are immersed in the Book of Vayikra, diving into the details of the korbanot—the offerings and rituals that formed the heart of ancient Israelite worship. On the other, we are approaching the threshold of Pesach, the great festival of freedom, of Exodus, of becoming.
At first glance, Tzav and Passover may seem worlds apart—one concerned with the technicalities of sacrifices, the other with dramatic liberation. But a closer look reveals a powerful spiritual link between them: the fire that transforms.
In Parasha Tzav, one of the central themes is the esh tamid – the eternal flame upon the altar. “A perpetual fire shall be kept burning on the altar; it shall not go out”. This fire wasn’t just practical, it was symbolic. It represented divine presence, human devotion, and the constancy of our connection to God.
The fire consumed the offerings, but more than that, it sanctified them. It was the fire that turned human intention into sacred act.
And so, we ask: what is the fire of Pesach?
We might say it’s the fire of urgency—the haste in which our ancestors left Egypt, with no time for the dough to rise. It’s the fire of hope that refused to be extinguished, even after generations of slavery. And it’s the fire of transformation, the same fire that burned away the chains of servitude and forged a people into a nation.
But perhaps the deepest connection is this: Parasha Tzav teaches us how to sanctify the ordinary through repeated, intentional acts. It’s not about one dramatic moment, it’s about consistency, discipline, and presence. That’s the fire that must never go out.
As we prepare for Pesach, cleaning our homes and our hearts, we do so not just to remember a moment of freedom long ago. We do so to relight the fire within us – the fire of purpose, of faith, of community.
Let us approach this season not only with the excitement of redemption, but with the steady flame of commitment. May our homes be filled not only with the taste of matzah and maror, but with the fire of meaning, memory, and hope.
Shabbat Shalom and Chag kasher v’sameach.
Rabbi Refael Cohen