The Torah portion of Tzav opens with G‑d’s instruction to Moses to command the people regarding the sacrifices.

The Torah typically introduces a mitzvah using one of three terms: daber – “speak,” emor – “say,” or tzav – “command.” Among these, tzav is the least common.

Why is it used here?

Rashi explains that tzav always denotes urging, encouraging both the present generation and future ones to promptly and meticulously fulfill a particular commandment.1 In our case, this pertains to the Daily Offering – the Korban Tamid. As its name suggests, the Daily Offering was a sacrifice that was brought each day—one lamb in the morning and another in the afternoon—day after day, year after year, century after century, throughout all the years of the Tabernacle, the First Temple, and the Second Temple.

Given that this had to be done daily, there was a need for tzav—extra encouragement. It wasn’t a one-time obligation, or applicable to a specific era; it was a continuous practice day in and day out for many years.

The Value of Consistency

A profound teaching rooted in the Midrash,2 further developed3 by the renowned 16th-century Talmudic scholar and Jewish leader Rabbi Judah Loew, known as the Maharal of Prague, sheds light on a fascinating discussion among several prominent sages regarding which verse in the Torah is the most significant.

Rabbi Akiva suggested his favorite verse, “Love your fellow as yourself.”4 He famously taught that this verse is “a great principle in Torah.”

Ben Azai chose a verse from the very beginning of Genesis, “This is the book of the generations of Adam—on the day that G‑d created man, He made him in His Image,”5 emphasizing the inherent dignity of all human beings.

Ben Zoma regarded the verse, “Hear O Israel, the L‑rd is our G‑d, the L‑rd is one”6 as the most central, underscoring the importance of the Shema.

Finally, Ben Pazi selected the verse, “The first lamb you shall sacrifice in the morning and the second lamb you shall sacrifice in the evening.”7

The first three verses make perfect sense, while Ben Pazi’s choice seems rather perplexing. How does his statement about the Daily Offering compare with the seemingly all-encompassing statements of the previous three sages?

Ben Pazi emphasizes—as Rashi notes at the beginning of our Parshah—that a Jew should serve G‑d with absolute consistency on a perpetual basis, like the twice-daily Tamid Offering, which had to happen again and again.

Some people are very good at performing new and exciting commandments. Wow, a special commandment! It’s Purim? I’m going to do the special Purim mitzvahs. It’s Passover? I’m going to do the special Passover mitzvahs.

Maintaining enthusiasm for repetitive, daily obligations, however, can prove challenging. The repetition can become monotonous, even tedious. Ben Pazi taught that transforming our lives in a sustainable way requires daily commitment without exception. There is no missing a day. There is no skipping. Living as a Jew entails a constant, unwavering dedication—24 hours a day, 7 days a week—devoid of fluctuations or excuses.

This is why the Torah employed the unique word tzav—signifying the necessity for special strength, encouragement, and alacrity, both immediately and for all generations. But Rashi does not suffice with that and offers a second explanation: Rabbi Simeon taught that special urging is warranted for commandments involving monetary loss.8

When someone brings a Guilt Offering, the priest gets to eat its meat. When someone brings a Thanksgiving or Peace Offering, they themselves can eat the meat. And when someone brings a Sin Offering, they gain atonement.

The Daily Offering, however, about which we are instructed, “This is the burnt offering, which burns on the altar all night until morning, and the fire of the altar shall burn with it,”9 seemingly offers no tangible benefit to anyone, yet costs a lot of money. Therefore, Rashi explains, there needs to be special encouragement to fulfill this commandment.

Over the years—more than 1,000 years in total—the Jewish people spent a tremendous amount of money to provide a lamb for the daily Burnt Offering, every morning and every afternoon, even in the most challenging times.

This is the connection that the Jew has to G‑d; it’s OK if it costs us—it connects us to our Creator.

Divine Connection

There is a classic insight from the teachings of Chassidism into the concept of a mitzvah. The word mitzvah is linked to the word tzavta, meaning “attachment.” A mitzvah creates a bond between G‑d, who commands, and human, who performs. It serves as a conduit connecting us to G‑d, as there is no greater connection than doing His will.

To illustrate this: consider a scenario where a famous person asks a simple guy for a glass of water. For the rest of his life, this simple fellow will recall with awe and pride the connection that he made with that great person.

This connection is exemplified by the mitzvah of the daily Burnt Offering, because here, the connection is expressed in a manner that may lack any apparent logic, symbolism, or significance, other than the fact that G‑d commanded it. But once G‑d commands it, and we fulfill that command, we become connected.

That is the miracle of a mitzvah.10

Flames of Passion

Another aspect of the Daily Offering pertains to the fire. The verse states, “This is the burnt offering, which burns on the altar all night until morning, and the fire of the altar shall burn with it.”11

Fire symbolizes passion. The vibrancy of the connection and bond between the Jew and G‑d is sustained through passion, excitement, and vitality. If we lose the fire, then, in a sense, we have lost our Judaism.

Eradicating Doubt

This concept also intersects with Parshat Zachor—the supplemental portion that is read on the Shabbat before Purim—which recalls the commandment to destroy Amalek:

You shall remember what Amalek did to you on the way, when you went out of Egypt; how he happened upon you on the way and cut off all the stragglers at your rear, when you were faint and weary, and he did not fear G‑d … you shall obliterate the remembrance of Amalek beneath the heavens. You shall not forget!12

The word for “he happened upon you” (karcha) also implies “cooled you off.” What did Amalek do? He cooled off the people; he made them cold and apathetic. When the people were excited and passionate about G‑d, Torah, and mitzvot, Amalek got them to cool off and calm down, to move away from Torah study and mitzvah observance.

Amalek must be erased because he throws cold water on our enthusiasm.

Furthermore, Amalek embodies doubt. Amalek has the same numeric value as the Hebrew word for doubt – “safek.” When a person finds themselves wondering if their life means anything, such doubts stem from Amalek.

The Talmud teaches, “There is no joy greater than the resolution of doubts.”13 Doubt is a killer. Destroying Amalek means removing doubt and restoring passion and excitement to our relationship with G‑d.

Extinguishing Negativity

The verse in our parshah states, “A constant fire shall be kept burning on the altar; it shall not be extinguished.”

In Hayom Yom,14 the Rebbe recounts a teaching from Rabbi Shneur Zalman of Liadi, founder of Chabad, also known as the Alter Rebbe, who shared insights from his teacher, the Maggid of Mezritch:

Although with the offerings, the flame came down from heaven onto the altar—a spiritual awakening from above to below, nevertheless we have to light our own flame. We must create an awakening from below. Because when we cultivate a passion for G‑d in our hearts, it elicits a heavenly response—the awakening from above—creating a virtuous circle.

Furthermore, the Hebrew phrase in the verse, lo tichbeh, literally translates to “it (the fire) shall not be extinguished.” In a play on words, the Maggid explained that this fire should extinguish (tichbeh) the lo, the “no,” i.e., the negativity. A Jew must not be consumed by negativity, because negativity is destructive.

The Alter Rebbe recalled that the Maggid imparted this teaching to him 10 different times, aiming to engrave it in each of his 10 soul powers (sefirot)—i.e., in every part of his soul.

The Maggid emphasized the need for a constant flame, “because you have to extinguish the ‘no,’ the negativity of the opposition.” The Alter Rebbe operated in an environment where many were strongly opposed to the teachings of Chassidism, and he was charged with the mission to transform negativity into positivity.

This approach, rooted in optimism and certainty, stands in stark contrast to Amalek, which epitomizes doubt and negativity.

The takeaway?

Be positive. Be certain. Be passionate.

Prayer’s Dividends

The teachings of Chassidism regarding Amalek always bring to mind a beautiful story I heard countless times during my upbringing. It is about my maternal grandfather, Rabbi Eliyahu Simpson, of blessed memory, and my paternal grandfather, Reb Yochanan Gordon, of blessed memory. Decades before their children married each other, they were roommates. These two Chassidic giants were among the pioneers of the Chabad movement in America in the 20th century, but in their youth they both studied in the city of Lubavitch, attending the yeshiva of the Fifth Rebbe, Rabbi Shalom DovBer, known as the Rebbe Rashab. It was there that they shared a room.

Reb Eliyahu was known for spending many hours in prayer, often concluding long after most other students. This practice persisted even during his tenure as rabbi of a congregation in New York. Every Shabbat morning, he would lead the services, and then, once the prayers were completed, he would embark on his own prayers, which continued for many hours.

Late one Shabbat afternoon, a young Reb Eliyahu walked into the room he shared with Reb Yochanan, having just finished his prayers. The latter inquired, “What concept did you focus on during your prayer service today? Which teachings of Chassidism did you contemplate?”

Reb Eliyahu responded, “It was a discourse of the Rebbe Rashab on the words, ‘Remember what Amalek did to you …’” This discourse delved into the notion that we must shield ourselves from the influence of Amalek, avoiding doubt and apathy.

“You devoted many hours to contemplating that idea,” Reb Yochanan remarked. “What is your conclusion?”

“My conclusion,” Reb Eliyahu replied, “is that a person can pray until four o‘clock in the afternoon and still remain an Amalek!”

That is, despite spending many hours in prayer and reflection, one may still not fully cultivate a fervent passion for G‑dliness, and remain plagued by doubt and apathy.

May we all be ignited with fervent passion in our service of G‑d. Let us be consistent in our dedication to fulfilling mitzvahs, forging an unbreakable bond between us and the Divine. As we strive to eradicate doubt and negativity, may our hearts burn with the fire of enthusiasm and certainty, casting aside any inclination towards apathy or hesitation. May we truly manifest the blessings that we read in Megillat Esther and say weekly at Havdalah, “‘For the Jews there was light and joy, gladness and honor’15 —so let it be with us.” May we experience all these blessings, culminating with the greatest blessing of all, the arrival of our righteous Moshiach, may it be speedily in our days. Amen.