We often think of greatness in terms of power or fame, but the ancient rabbis had a more nuanced view, especially when it came to the leaders of the Jewish people.
In Vayikra Rabbah, a collection of rabbinic homilies on the Book of Leviticus, we find an intriguing discussion on the qualities of the High Priest, the Kohen Gadol. The text asks a simple question: Why is he called the High Priest – the Kohen Gadol in Hebrew?
The answer, surprisingly, isn't just about religious authority. It's because, according to Vayikra Rabbah, he is great in five specific ways: wisdom, strength, beauty, wealth, and years. These aren't just nice-to-haves; they're considered essential attributes.
Let's unpack that a bit, shall we?
Beauty might seem superficial at first, but the text clarifies that the High Priest should simply be fairer than his brethren. Strength, on the other hand, is illustrated vividly. The text references Aaron waving twenty-two thousand Levites (Numbers 8:5–22). Now, how did he manage that feat in a single day? The midrash explains that he would wave them to and fro, raising and lowering them, demonstrating his immense physical power. Imagine the stamina!
Then there’s wealth. This isn't just about personal fortune. Vayikra Rabbah suggests that if the High Priest isn't wealthy, his fellow priests should make him wealthy! There’s a story about Pinḥas, a stonemason, who was appointed High Priest. His brethren, seeing him still hewing stones, filled the quarry with gold dinars. The text derives this from the verse “The priest who is greater than his brethren [me’eḥav],” (Leviticus 21:10) interpreting it to mean that he becomes great through his brethren. It’s a fascinating concept – communal responsibility for the leader's financial well-being, ensuring he’s not burdened by personal concerns.
But it's not just the High Priest who needs these qualities. The text draws a parallel to King David. Remember the story of David and Goliath? Saul initially doubts David's ability to fight the giant, saying, "You are not able to go against this Philistine to fight with him, for you are but a youth" (1 Samuel 17:33).
David recounts his past victories over a lion and a bear, and Saul, impressed but still concerned about appearances, dresses David in his own garments. But David finds them cumbersome and removes them. The text points out that Saul "from his shoulders upward he was taller than any of the people" (1 Samuel 9:2).
Here's where it gets really interesting. The midrash suggests that even if a person is short and becomes king, he becomes taller. Why? Because, the text explains, when one is anointed with the anointing oil, he becomes the most outstanding of all his brethren. David himself proclaims, "I rejoice in the anointing oil with which I was anointed," as it is stated: "Therefore, my heart rejoices, my being exults; my flesh, too, rests securely" (Psalms 16:9).
So, what are we to make of all this? It's not simply about physical attributes or wealth. It's about the transformation that occurs when someone is chosen for leadership, when they are imbued with a sense of purpose and divine favor. The anointing oil, in this context, symbolizes a spiritual elevation, a shift in perception, both for the leader and those who are led.
The rabbis, in their wisdom, are telling us that true greatness isn't just about inherent qualities, but about the potential that is unlocked when someone is called to serve and is supported by their community. It's a powerful reminder that leadership is a sacred responsibility, one that demands not only individual excellence but also the collective support of those around them.
It makes you wonder, doesn't it? What qualities do we value in our leaders today? And how can we, as a community, help them rise to their full potential?