And according to the ancient rabbis, there's a profound reason why.

Rabbi Yitzḥak opens Vayikra Rabbah 31 with a powerful image, quoting Psalms 119:140: “Your saying is exceedingly pure, and Your servant loves it.” But he doesn’t stop there. He adds a vivid analogy. Imagine a goldsmith, meticulously refining gold. He doesn't just melt it once, does he? No, he puts it in the crucible again and again, two times, maybe even three, until every last impurity is burned away. That, Rabbi Yitzḥak suggests, is how we should understand the repetition in the Torah.

He focuses specifically on the mitzvah, or commandment, of lighting the lamps in the Tabernacle, or later, the Temple. This wasn’t just mentioned once. Oh no. We find it in Exodus (27:20–21), then again in Leviticus (24:1–4), and yet again in Numbers (8:1–4). Why the triple mention?

Well, as the Maharzu, a later commentator, explains, this repetition isn't accidental. It’s there to clarify every single detail of the mitzvah, to help the people remember it, to really drive it home. Think of it as the Torah ensuring we don't miss a thing!

But here's where it gets really interesting. The text then makes a fascinating a fortiori argument – a kind of "how much more so" deduction. If even this relatively small section about lighting the lamps is stated, repeated, and repeated a third time, then how much more so must this be true for the rest of the Torah!

The idea is that other, far more extensive passages, must also have been repeated to the people. It paints a picture of a thorough, painstaking process of instruction. We're told that the mitzvot were taught at Sinai, repeated at the Tent of Meeting, and then repeated a third time on the plains of Moab. It's like the Torah wants to be absolutely certain we understand and internalize its teachings.

So, what does this tell us? Perhaps it's a reminder that learning and understanding often require revisiting ideas, looking at them from different angles, and allowing them to sink in over time. Just like the goldsmith refining his gold, we need to engage with the Torah's teachings repeatedly until they become truly pure and meaningful in our lives. It’s not enough to hear something once; we need to wrestle with it, question it, and allow it to shape us. And maybe, just maybe, that’s why the Torah itself is so beautifully, purposefully, repetitive.