In Parashat Yitro, the Torah turns from the foundational stories of Western civilization – the Creation of the world and the Exodus from Egyptian slavery – to the rich legislative legacy that implements the Biblical vision of holiness, justice, and peace. Gathering around the base of Mt. Sinai, the Jewish people receive Aseret Ha-Dibrot (the Ten Commandments), and pledge their loyalty to the Covenant offered by God. After unveiling these magisterial Tablets – distillations, really, for the entire Torah – Moses closes with a consideration of the rituals through which our awareness of God and our cultivation of gratitude may be expressed.
The core mode of Biblical public worship is to be the Altar, where sacrifices will atone for sin, express thanks, celebrate the passage of time and the observance of holy days, and allow for the fulfillment of vows. Prior to the establishment of the Holy Temple in Jerusalem, Israelites are permitted to erect altars wherever they dwell. During the period of the First Temple (1000 – 586 BCE), some Israelites continued that practice, despite the restriction imposed in the Book of Deuteronomy limiting sacrifice to the Temple on Mount Zion. Only the members of the priestly families (the Kahunah) are permitted to offer sacrifice upon the Temple’s altar.
Many contemporaries turn away from the sacrificial laws, smugly certain that these rituals are devoid of value (these same people are often blind to the many customs of contemporary life that are themselves detailed, inflexible, and meaningless!). Yet the perspective of the Torah (amplified by later generations of Jewish sages) reveals that the sacrificial system is the concrete embodiment of profound moral and theological convictions – helping us to both express and affirm timeless values. Take, for example, the final verse in this week’s parashah: “Do not ascend My altar by steps, that your nakedness may not be exposed upon it (Exodus 20: 23).”
On the surface, this verse appears quite silly – worried about the exposed buttocks of some ancient clergy, it hardly rises to the realm of moral rigor and visionary insight we would want from divine revelation!
Let’s look again, shall we?
Professor Nahum Sarna (20th Century USA) comments that this verse is speaking about private altars, because only kohanim (priests) officiated at the public altar in the Temple, and they were mandated to wear linen breeches; their nakedness would never have been exposed. This contemporary insight is anticipated by the great medieval scholar, Rabbi Abraham ibn Ezra (12th Century Spain), who writes: “The law prohibiting the use of steps to go up to the altar takes in all altars of earth, stone, or copper. The phrase, ‘My altar’ implies all altars made for the Lord.” Ritual nudity was not uncommon in the ancient Near East, yet the Torah fuses bodily modesty with divine service.
What is the connection between insisting on a ramp (an architectural/structural requirement) and the concern not to expose one’s nakedness (a human/ethical concern)?
Nakedness is different than nudity. “Nudity” is a state of personal intimacy and trust, without pretense or artifice. The nudity of a baby is beautiful and simple, lacking all guile. The nudity of a married couple is equally beautiful and trusting. “Nakedness”, on the other hand, entails more than an absence of clothing – it is a mental state (both for the person lacking garments and for those observing the undressed body). To be naked is to lack an element of protection, to be stripped of dignity or decency. Nakedness is about objectification, reducing a person to a mere object to be appraised, to be used. In the Garden, Adam and Eve were nude and complete. Outcast, and with a consciousness of having sinned, they became naked.
Nakedness can also be an assault on those forced to view another person undressed. Only someone very powerful, arrogant, or angry (socially or sexually) is in a position to impose their nakedness on others. To be forced to confront someone’s nakedness can be jarring. To endure someone’s exhibitionism is to have one’s privacy and modesty shredded.
Rashi (11th Century France) realizes this verse is all about human dignity. He recognizes that if there are large steps leading to the altar, the only view that would catch the person’s nakedness would be from the steps themselves. Yet stones don’t see. So what’s the problem? “If the Torah says, ‘do not treat them in a humiliating way since there is need for them,’ of these stones, which do not have awareness to care about their humiliation, how much the more so in the case of your fellow human being, who is in the image of your Creator and who does care about humiliation!” According to Rashi, the Torah goes out of its way to cultivate modesty and restraint for inanimate objects so as to heighten our awareness of how our unwanted exposure might constitute an imposition and an assault on another person’s human dignity.
A later guide, Sefer Ha-Hinnukh (13th Century Spain) also recognizes that this law creates a context to express joy, gratitude, and wonder. The author explains that the purpose of this law is “to implant a conception in our heart of reverent awe for the location, its eminence and its supreme majesty. For out of one’s action is the heart acted upon.”
According to this second interpretation, the issue isn’t human dignity, but decency. Human emotion requires physical expression (“Out of one’s action is the heart acted upon”). If we wish to improve ourselves, then we need somewhere that encourages us to restrain our own insecurities and aggression. We need a space consecrated to majesty and decorum. The Torah’s requirement creates a physical space that allows us to experience awe and tranquility.
Ultimately, then, this law isn’t just about clothing (or their lack) or about steps (or ramps). God’s vision fixes on the establishment of human dignity and on the need to create physical havens for healing, regeneration, and quiet joy. Just as a ramp offers a gradual means for steady elevation, so do all God’s mitzvot – lifting us up to heights previously unattainable, to reside in the realm of the holy and the good.
Shabbat Shalom!