It's all about second chances, about grace, and about how sometimes, the people who stumble are the very ones chosen for greatness.
The verse we're focusing on is "and you, draw…near to you." It seems simple enough. But the Rabbis saw so much more in those words. They connected it to a verse from Psalms (65:5): "Happy is the one You choose to bring near You to dwell in Your courtyards." What does it mean to be "brought near"? To be chosen?
Rabbi Yitzchak paints a vivid picture to explain. He tells of a king and his friend. Now, this wasn't just any friend; this friend publicly criticized the king! Can you imagine the audacity? You'd think that would be the end of the friendship, maybe even the end of the friend. But here’s the twist: instead of banishing him, the king makes him his protégé! He keeps him close, right there in the palace, eating the king’s own food. Why? So he wouldn't move from the palace.
It sounds wild, doesn't it? A king rewarding someone who openly criticized him? But that's precisely the point. It’s about the unfathomable nature of divine grace.
And who does this story remind us of? Aaron.
According to the Rabbis, Aaron was equal to all of Israel in stature (as the Sages state), which is really saying something. But here's the kicker: he was also involved—albeit with different intent—in the infamous incident of the Golden Calf. You remember that story. While Moses was up on Mount Sinai receiving the Torah, the people got impatient and pressured Aaron to create a golden idol. A pretty huge mistake.
You'd think that would disqualify him from any position of leadership. But what does God do? He selects Aaron to be the Kohen Gadol, the High Priest! He says to him, "He shall not emerge from the Sanctuary" (Leviticus 21:12). And just like the king's friend, Aaron "ate the remnants of the Holy One blessed be He," as it says, "The remnant of the meal-offering [is for Aaron]" (Leviticus 2:10). Aaron, despite his misstep, is brought closer than ever to God. Aaron, who faltered, is chosen to serve in the most sacred role. He's given access to the holiest spaces, and he partakes in the offerings brought to God. It's a powerful message about redemption, about forgiveness, and about the potential for even those who have stumbled to rise to greatness.
What does this mean for us? Maybe it means that our mistakes don't define us. Maybe it means that even when we mess up, there's still a chance for us to draw near, to be chosen, to dwell in God's courtyards. Maybe it means that sometimes, the greatest leaders are the ones who know what it's like to fall.