It all starts with the phrase "Command the children of Israel" – which, on the surface, sounds like a divine order. But the Rabbis, masters of unpacking layers of meaning, saw something deeper.
They connect it to a verse from Job (14:15): "Call and I will answer You." And even more powerfully, to Isaiah 58:9: "Then you will call, and the Lord will answer." What's the implication here? It's not just about God commanding and us obeying. It's about a relationship, a dialogue already in progress.
The key, they suggest, lies in the word "long" – tikhsof in Hebrew. The text subtly tweaks the end of the verse in Job to emphasize this longing. Why would the Almighty, the Master of the Universe, long for anything? Especially from us?
To unpack this, the Midrash pulls in a verse from Genesis 31:30, where Jacob confronts Laban: "Because you longed [nikhsof nikhsafta]…" Here, "longed" expresses a deep, personal yearning. The Rabbis use this connection to illuminate the tikhsof in Job. God's "longing," they argue, isn't a neediness, but a deep desire for connection with His creation.
Imagine Job, wrestling with suffering, questioning everything. He essentially says to God, "Master of the universe, everything above and below is in Your hands. Why would You long for your handiwork? Surely, you just tend to it."
And here's the beautiful twist. Job isn't accusing God of needing something. He's suggesting that these commandments—like kindling the Temple lamps—aren't about fulfilling a divine need. They're about granting us the merit, the reward, of fulfilling God's will. In other words, "command the children of Israel" isn't about God's ego; it's about our growth.
Think about that for a second. God isn't commanding us because He undefined us to light lamps. He's commanding us because He wants to give us the opportunity to connect with Him, to find meaning and purpose in His service.
It's a profound shift in perspective, isn't it? It turns the idea of commandments on its head. It's not a top-down decree, but an invitation to a deeper relationship.
So, the next time you encounter a commandment that feels like an obligation, maybe pause and consider: What if it's less about what God wants from me, and more about what He wants for me? What if it's an invitation to draw closer, to experience the longing – the tikhsof – that exists on both sides of the divine-human relationship?