It wasn't just a quick anointing, you see. It was an entire week of living in the shadow of the Tabernacle, a period of seclusion from the everyday world, a real immersion into holiness.
And during that week? Moses himself took on the role of the priest, performing all the duties, even bringing sacrifices for Aaron and his sons, and sprinkling them with the blood of those offerings. Imagine the weight of that responsibility, the transfer of sacred leadership.
According to Legends of the Jews, it was on the twenty-third day of Adar (a month in the Jewish calendar, usually falling in late winter/early spring) that God instructed Moses to officially consecrate Aaron and his sons. God knew Aaron’s heart. “Go,” God said to Moses, “persuade Aaron to accept his priestly office, for he is a man who shuns distinctions.” Can you imagine? Someone so humble, so reluctant to take on such a prominent role?
But God also knew the importance of this moment for the entire community. He continued, "Effect his appointment before all Israel, that he may be honored in this way, and at the same time warn the people that after the choice of Aaron none may assume priestly rights. Gather thou all the congregation together unto the door of the Tabernacle.”
And that’s when Moses voiced his concern. A very human concern, really. As we learn from Legends of the Jews, Moses exclaimed, "O Lord of the world! How shall I be able to assemble before the door of the Tabernacle, a space that measures only two seah (an ancient unit of measurement), sixty myriads (hundreds of thousands) of adult men and as many youths?" It’s a fair question, right? How do you fit that many people into such a small space?
But God’s response is just breathtaking. "Dost thou marvel at this?" God asks. "Greater miracles than this have I accomplished. The heaven was originally as thin and as small as the retina of the eye, still I caused it to stretch over all the world from one end to the other. In the future world, too, when all men from Adam to the time of the Resurrection will be assembled in Zion, and the multitude will be so great that one shall call to the other, 'The place is too strait for me, give place to me that I may dwell,' on that day will I so extend the holy city that all will conveniently find room there."
Think about that for a moment. The idea that God, who can expand the heavens and create space where there seems to be none, could certainly make room for all of Israel at the door of the Tabernacle. And even more, the promise of a future where all souls will find their place in a world made spacious enough for everyone. It’s a powerful image of divine abundance and inclusion.
So, what does this story tell us? Perhaps it's about the importance of accepting our calling, even when we feel unworthy or overwhelmed. Maybe it's about trusting in a power greater than ourselves to make the impossible possible. Or maybe, just maybe, it's a reminder that even in the most crowded of times, there's always room for one more at the table, in the community, in the heart of God.