We often focus on the architecture, the rituals, the sheer scale of it all. But sometimes, the most fascinating stories lie in the details, in the dedication of the people behind the scenes. Today, let’s talk about incense.
Specifically, the incense prepared by the House of Avtinas.
According to Shir HaShirim Rabbah, this priestly family held a closely guarded secret: the precise blend of spices that created the Temple's unique incense. Rabbi Yoḥanan interprets the verse, “Perfumed with myrrh and frankincense, and with all the powders of the merchant” (Song of Songs 3:6) as a hint toward the complex mixture of this special incense.
Rav Huna, drawing on Exodus 30:34 ("Take spices for you..."), meticulously counts the ingredients. "Spices," being plural, implies at least two. Then come "stacte, onycha, and galbanum" – that makes five. The repetition of "spices" suggests another five, making ten. And finally, "pure frankincense" brings the total to eleven. The Sages, it says here, examined the matter and found that only these eleven spices were ideal for incense.
But it wasn't just the ingredients; it was the preparation. The House of Avtinas were masters of their craft. The text tells us they were experts in the preparation and blending of the incense, so expert that it would generate a perfect column of smoke rising straight up to the heavens. Imagine that for a moment – a fragrant pillar reaching towards the Divine.
And here’s where the story takes a turn. The Avtinas family, for reasons we'll explore, refused to share their secrets. The Sages, wanting to replicate their success, brought in incense makers from Alexandria, who were skilled but lacked that crucial ability to make the smoke rise properly. The Avtinas’ incense would ascend like a rod until it reached the rafters, then spread out and descend like a cluster. But the Alexandrians' incense? It just spread downward immediately.
Why was this a problem? Well, the Sages believed that everything created by God should be for His glory. As Isaiah 43:7 states, "Everything that is called by My name, for My glory I created it." The smoke that didn't rise straight up simply wasn't befitting that glory.
So, they restored the House of Avtinas to their position. But getting them back wasn't easy. They demanded double their wages! Rabbi Meir says they went from twelve maneh (a unit of currency) a day to twenty-four. Rabbi Yuda claims it was even more – from twenty-four to forty-eight!
The Sages, of course, had to ask: why the secrecy? Why wouldn't they teach others their methods? The Avtinas family revealed a profound reason: they had a tradition that the Temple would eventually be destroyed. They feared that if they shared their knowledge, it would be used to create incense for idol worship, mimicking the sacred rituals performed for the Holy One.
For this, they were commended. But the story doesn't end there. To maintain the integrity of their service, the women of the House of Avtinas never wore perfume. When marrying someone from outside the family, they made sure the bride agreed to abstain from perfume as well. They didn't want anyone to think they were using the Temple incense for personal benefit, fulfilling the verse "You shall be vindicated before God and before Israel" (Numbers 32:22) and striving to "find grace and good favor in the eyes of God and man" (Proverbs 3:4).
Rabbi Akiva shares a story he heard from Shimon ben Loga: Once, while gathering herbs with a child from the House of Avtinas, Shimon saw the child cry and then laugh. When asked why, the child explained that he cried for the diminished honor of his family but laughed because he knew their legacy was preserved for the righteous and that God would ultimately bring joy to His children. The child then pointed out a substance that produced a rising column of smoke, but refused to show it, citing a family tradition. Tragically, the text says that not many days elapsed before that child died, perhaps as a consequence for divulging the secret.
Rabbi Yoḥanan ben Nuri also recounts an encounter with an elder from the House of Avtinas who possessed a scroll listing the spices. The elder, feeling he had no worthy successor, passed the scroll to Rabbi Yoḥanan, urging him to be careful with it. When Rabbi Yoḥanan told Rabbi Akiva about this, Rabbi Akiva wept, declaring that they could no longer denounce the House of Avtinas, as the elder's actions proved their devotion to heaven.
What does this all mean? It's more than just a recipe for incense. It's a story about dedication, about protecting sacred knowledge, and about the profound responsibility that comes with serving something greater than oneself. The House of Avtinas understood that their craft was not just about creating a pleasant aroma; it was about connecting the earthly and the divine, about upholding the glory of God even in the face of potential destruction.
And perhaps, in our own lives, we can find ways to honor that same spirit of dedication, to protect the things that are truly sacred, and to strive for a connection to something beyond ourselves.