Let’s dive into a fascinating passage from Bamidbar Rabbah, specifically section 14, which grapples with just that question, focusing on the anointing of the altar and its implications for the future.

The core of the discussion revolves around the verse, “This was the dedication of the altar” (Numbers 7:88). The midrash asks, is this a one-time event, or does it imply a continuous anointing? The answer, according to this interpretation, is a resounding "no." "This," the text emphasizes, signifies a limit. The altar was anointed only in the Tabernacle, not during the Second Temple period, and not in the Messianic Era. This is according to the Etz Yosef commentary, which suggests that the "future" mentioned in the midrash actually refers to the time of the Second Temple.

It's a powerful idea, isn't it? That even something as seemingly eternal as the dedication of the altar has a specific time and place.

The text then extends this line of reasoning to the anointing of Aaron and his sons. Again, the verse "this is the anointment of Aaron and the anointment of his sons" (Leviticus 7:35) is interpreted as a limitation. They will not be anointed again. But what about the verse in Zechariah 4:14, "These are the two anointed ones"? The midrash resolves this apparent contradiction by identifying them as Aaron and David, each seeking their respective domains: priesthood and kingship. Aaron seeks his priesthood, and David seeks his kingship.

This interpretation highlights a crucial distinction between different forms of leadership and authority, each with its own unique anointing and purpose.

The passage then shifts its focus to the offerings brought on the day of the altar's dedication. It explores the timing: Did the offerings occur on the day of the anointing, or after? It seems the Midrash is teasing out a potential ambiguity in the text, and then resolving it. Rabbi Shimon clarifies that Israel had been separating priestly gifts since Mount Sinai, but Aaron and his sons didn't acquire them until they were anointed. The verse, "That the Lord commanded to give them on the day He anointed them" (Leviticus 7:36), seals the deal. We learned that on the day that the Tabernacle was anointed, on that day, the priests acquired the gifts.

Why does the verse state: “On the day that it was anointed”? It was on that day that Naḥshon son of Aminadav presented his offering. The midrash tackles a potential chronological hiccup: Did Naḥshon present his offering before or after the anointing? The verse "This was the dedication of the altar, on the day that it was anointed" resolves the issue. The princes presented their offerings after the anointing.

So what's the big deal? Why all this fuss about timing and sequence? Because, as we soon discover, it's not just about chronology, but about equality and shared merit.

The passage emphasizes that all the princes were equal in counsel and merit. Rabbi Shimon adds that their contributions were voluntary and equal in every respect – length, width, and weight. No one offered more than another. Had they done so, none of their offerings would have overridden Shabbat. The Holy One, blessed be He, honored their mutual respect by allowing them to present offerings on Shabbat, ensuring there would be no interruption in their service.

"Twelve silver dishes" – these are what they contributed, and no disqualification befell any of them. Rabbi Yudan raises an interesting point: Didn't they present only one dish, basin, and ladle on the day of the anointing? Why does the verse say "Twelve silver dishes, twelve silver basins, twelve golden ladles"? The answer: The verse ascribes to them as though they all presented their offerings on the first day, and as though they all presented their offerings on the last day.

The message here is profound. It is a statement about unity, equality, and the enduring power of collective action. The princes, through their shared purpose and equal contributions, transcended the limitations of time and space, embodying a timeless ideal of community.

What can we take away from this intricate exploration of anointing, offerings, and equality? Perhaps it's a reminder that even within the most structured systems of ritual and tradition, there's always room for interpretation, for questioning, and for finding deeper meaning. And that true dedication lies not just in following the rules, but in understanding the spirit behind them, and striving for equality and unity in all that we do.