The Blue of the Ocean, the Sky, and the Tzitzit
By Elizabeth Richmond
“Speak to the Israelite people and instruct them to make tzitzit for themselves on the corners of their garments through all the ages; let them attach a cord of blue to the tzitzit of each corner. That shall be your tzitzit; look at it and recall all of God’s commandments and observe them… Thus shall you be reminded to observe all My commandments and to be holy to your God. I the Lord am your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt to be your God… (Numbers 15: 38-41). ”
Parashat Sh’lach concludes with these famous instructions to attach tzitzit (fringes) to the corners of our clothing as a reminder of and a directive to keep God’s commandments. The instruction of tzitzit is seen as a reminder of the entirety of religious practice. Our Sages believed that it was so important that they incorporated it verbatim into the Shema, one of the most central prayers in Judaism.
The Rabbis wondered why God commanded the inclusion of one blue thread among the white threads of the tzitzit. Tractate Menahot of the Babylonian Talmud reports Rabbi Meir asking “Why is blue different from all other colors?” and then answering, “Because blue resembles the sea, and the sea resembles sky, and the sky resembles God’s Throne of Glory…as it is written: ‘Above the sky over their heads was the semblance of a throne, like sapphire in appearance…'”
In other words, Rabbi Meir hypothesizes that the blue thread in tzitzit is meant to guide its wearers through a chain of associations beginning with immediate visualization of tzitzit and ending with the expansiveness of God. But why didn’t Rabbi Meir simply say that the color blue reminds us of God’s throne? Why do we first need to think of the ocean and the sky?
Rabbi Meir is alluding to the intimate connection between our religious actions and the real world. Our relationship with the Divine must also encompass a relationship with the world that surrounds us: the ocean, the sky, and the rich variety of life that dwells in between. We must learn to truly see, and thereby to know, the full world that God has created, from the depths of the ocean to the heights of the sky and the vastness of earth.
Indeed, we are not permitted to merely contemplate the world–we must be part of it. Immediately preceding Rabbi Meir’s comment, the Talmud asks why we are told to look at tzitzit and remember God’s commandments. The Talmud offers the answer that “seeing leads to remembering and remembering leads to doing.”
Seeing or reading about tzitzit is meant to remind us to act. This is true as much today as it was when these words were written. Perhaps thinking of the blue of the ocean and the sky can serve as a reminder to care for the earth and make choices that lead to sustainable development. Perhaps remembering those who inhabit the expanse of land between ocean and sky, and recalling our communal redemption story, should remind us of our obligation to build a world that honors the dignity and equality of all people.
We can see the earth differently by traveling and interacting with a diversity of people, visiting the developing world, or simply walking down the streets of our own cities, eyes wide open, speaking with those who need help. If we look carefully enough, what we see may remind us, like the Shema does, of our ancient and modern family stories.
Ours are stories about slavery, poverty, immigration, environmental degradation, suffering, and, in many cases, redemption. Our stories can help us to see the stories of others and to act in ways that will bring about redemptive endings. As the Rabbis imply in their teaching about tzitzit and its place in the Shema, when we look around we are challenged to make empathic connections between ourselves and the world around us. These connections obligate us to act.
The color blue that reminds us of ocean, sky, and God’s throne also reminds of this connection. The particular shade of blue to be used in tzitzit is called tekhelet. Ramban (Nahmanides) suggests that tekhelet was chosen because its spelling is very close to the word takhlit, which means purpose or goal.
The relationship between the two words summarizes the Talmud’s teaching on tzitzit. The purpose of our religious rituals is to truly see and engage with the world and its people. This engagement with the world leads us into relationship with the Divine. Only then, as the end of Parashat Shlah tells us, we will be holy to our God.
* The Blue Thread: The Torah says that of the four threads at each corner, one should be of “techeilet.” Techeilet is a blue dye made from the blood of the chilazon, a sea creature found on the coast of northern Israel. Why don’t we use the blue thread today? This particular blue dye was very precious and because of its value, the Romans (who conquered Israel in 63BCE) decreed that only “blue-blooded” royalty could wear the color techeilet. This caused the Jewish dyers to go underground. By 639 CE, at the time of the Arab conquest, the secret of techeilet was lost all together. It is interesting that the series of stripes (usually black or blue) on just about every Tallit Gadol may have their origin as a reminder of the “strand of techeilet” once worn as part of the Tzitzit. In the late 19th century, a massive international search was made to rediscover the original chilazon, the snail used to make techeilet. Since then, several species of snails have been suggested by researchers, but much controversy remains about the matter. Today, while some scholars advocate the wearing of “techeilet strings” from these snails, most scholars remain unconvinced. Consequently, most observant Jews wear only white Tzitzit. The Tzitzit are still fit for use, even if they are all white, without the blue string.Richman, Elizabeth. "The Blue of the Ocean, the Sky, and the Tzitzit." MyJewishLearning.com. (Viewed on June 14, 2014). http://www.myjewishlearning.com/texts/Bible/Weekly_Torah_Portion/shlah_ajws.shtml?p=0
Shelach Lecha: Name Change
By Rabbi Jay Kelman
Of the 12 leaders sent to Israel to help prepare the people for their imminent entry into the land, only Yehoshua is previously known to us. He was Chief of Staff during the Jewish people’s first war, when Amaleki terrorists attacked the women and children of Israel soon after the Exodus.
However, Yehoshua was not just a great military man, a trait that made him a most appropriate leader of the Jewish people when they eventually did enter the land of Israel. He was a spiritual giant, accompanying Moshe at Sinai. “And Moshe and his aide Yehoshua set out, and Moshe ascended G-d’s mountain” (Shemot 23:13). He was also there forty days later, ready to assist Moshe as he descended from Sinai to the sight of the golden calf. Presumably, it was these displays of leadership that led to a name change (in the footsteps of Abraham, Sarah and Yaakov), with a yud being added to his original name, Hoshea. Our Sages, in fact, declared that the yud that was taken from the end of Sarai’s name when it was changed to Sarah was the “same yud” that was added to the beginning of Yehoshua. Abraham and Sarah began Jewish history by leaving their homeland and going to the land of Israel; Yehoshua was the one to lead their descendants, as a nation, into that land.
According to many commentaries, Yehoshua’s name had been changed much earlier—he is actually called by his “new” name in the above mentioned instances—but the Torah first records it here, as he readied himself to join the scouting expedition to Israel. Strangely, our Sages view this name change, as it is mentioned here, in a negative light. Moshe’s addition of the letter yud, making the first two letters of his name equivalent to one of the possible spellings of G-d’s name, is said to have been meant as a prayer that “G-d should save you (Hoshea) from the advice of the meraglim“.
It appears that Moshe had a pretty good premonition of what was in store for this doomed mission, yet he did not want to abort it. If the Jewish people were going to be able to enter the land of Israel, he reasoned, they would need a team of inspirational leaders. The spoon-feeding that they received in the desert—free food, drink, housing, clothing and the like—was going to have to give way to the hard work of building a new nation. G-d would no longer provide for them with nothing required. The mission of the meraglim was a most necessary test of the readiness of the Jewish people to establish a State. While Moshe had a hunch that they were not yet ready, he understood that he must send them in any case. Knowing the risks involved, he hoped and prayed even more that the mission would be a success.
It was this fear that led him to pray for Yehoshua especially. “Amalek lives in the Negev area” was one of the opening salvos of the meraglim. By invoking fears of the dreaded Amalek, the meraglim hoped to dissuade the Jewish people from entering the land. Living in Israel, they not-so-subtly explained, would mean ongoing wars and terrorism. Yehoshua, as the one who led the successful battle against Amalek just a few months earlier, was the key to a successful mission. That first battle took place in the desert, but fighting them on their own territory might be a different story. Urban warfare is never easy.
As the Meshech Chochma so brilliantly points out, it was crucial to morale that Yehoshua, at least, did not succumb to fear. If our highest-ranking military officer said that Amalek could not be defeated, then the battle truly was lost.
Moshe’s best hope for a successful mission rested in the ability of Yehoshua to convince his colleagues that, with proper preparation and G-d’s help, they could conquer the land “flowing with milk and honey” (13:27). Alas, this was to be an impossible task. Our Sages, commenting on a textual anomaly, note that the meraglim basically had their minds made up even before they left on their mission. Their unwillingness to see things from a different perspective when they visited the land doomed the nation to years of wandering (perhaps generations of wandering, as many of our commentaries claim). May we merit, like Yehoshua, to see G-d in front of all of our names; a G-d who demands that we take the first step of our journey, but is always there to support us.
Kelman, Jay. "Shelach Lecha: Name Change." Torah in Motion. (Viewed on June 14, 2014). http://torahinmotion.org/discussions-and-blogs/shelach-lecha-name-change
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