This week’s parsha invites the entire Jewish people to some very large festivals that we continue to experience every year. The Ramban explains that the festivals are addressed to the “Children of Israel” because the sanctity of these days belongs to the entire nation equally, unlike the specific sacrificial duties of the Kohanim. By excluding the *Musaf* (Additional) offerings from this section and reserving them for Parshas Pinchas, the Torah distinguishes between the immediate spiritual experience of the desert and the future communal obligations in the Land of Israel. In the context of the Mishkan as Hashem’s home, these festivals function as “Holy Convocations” (*mikra’ei kodesh*)—divine invitations where the Jewish people are summoned as guests to a royal feast. Consequently, the focus remains on the “invitation list” and the guest’s conduct: assembling in God’s House for prayer, wearing clean garments, and engaging in festive meals. Even the inclusion of the Sabbath serves to set the “house rules,” reminding the guests that while they are invited to celebrate, the fundamental sanctity of the Host’s home remains constant. Ultimately, by omitting the technical sacrificial labor, the Ramban highlights that the festivals are not merely ritual cycles for the priesthood, but a national encounter where every Jew is called to share in the “joy of the Eternal.”

We have spent several week’s looking to the idea of Mishkan as the central dwelling place of Hashem in the midst of the Jewish nation. In this instance, we are introduced to a new issue that could arise in preserving the dignity of the Mishkan- chalal 

וְלֹֽא־יְחַלֵּ֥ל זַרְע֖וֹ בְּעַמָּ֑יו כִּ֛י אֲנִ֥י יְהֹוָ֖ה מְקַדְּשֽׁוֹ׃

that he may not profane his offspring among his kin, for I GOD have sanctified him.

אַ֣ךְ אֶל־הַפָּרֹ֜כֶת לֹ֣א יָבֹ֗א וְאֶל־הַמִּזְבֵּ֛חַ לֹ֥א יִגַּ֖שׁ כִּֽי־מ֣וּם בּ֑וֹ וְלֹ֤א יְחַלֵּל֙ אֶת־מִקְדָּשַׁ֔י כִּ֛י אֲנִ֥י יְהֹוָ֖ה מְקַדְּשָֽׁם׃

but he shall not enter behind the curtain or come near the altar, for he has a defect. He shall not profane these places sacred to Me, for I GOD have sanctified them.

דַּבֵּ֨ר אֶֽל־אַהֲרֹ֜ן וְאֶל־בָּנָ֗יו וְיִנָּֽזְרוּ֙ מִקׇּדְשֵׁ֣י בְנֵֽי־יִשְׂרָאֵ֔ל וְלֹ֥א יְחַלְּל֖וּ אֶת־שֵׁ֣ם קׇדְשִׁ֑י אֲשֶׁ֨ר הֵ֧ם מַקְדִּשִׁ֛ים לִ֖י אֲנִ֥י יְהֹוָֽה׃

Instruct Aaron and his sons to be scrupulous about the sacred donations that the Israelite people consecrate to Me, lest they profane My holy name, Mine GOD’s.

At this point, the sacrificial service turns towards the expectations of how the guests are to conduct themselves when visiting the Mishkan. The framework discusses chalal or the hollowing of the hallowed. One of the big concerns in opening up the Mishkan to everyone is understanding for whom the festival is being produced. The values being instilled as a result of celebrating the holy days is to celebrate and honor the miracles and wonders of Hashem bringing the Jewish people from under bondage and into their own society and new land. Disregarding the values and cultural norms expressed in the celebration of the holidays only brings terrible things to the land:

מִפְּנֵי מָה מוֹעֲדִים שֶׁבְּבָבֶל שְׂמֵחִים? — מִפְּנֵי שֶׁלֹּא הָיוּ בְּאוֹתָהּ קְלָלָה, דִּכְתִיב: ״וְהִשְׁבַּתִּי כׇּל מְשׂוֹשָׂהּ חַגָּהּ חׇדְשָׁהּ וְשַׁבַּתָּהּ וְכֹל מוֹעֲדָהּ״. וּכְתִיב: ״חׇדְשֵׁיכֶם וּמוֹעֲדֵיכֶם שָׂנְאָה נַפְשִׁי הָיוּ עָלַי לָטוֹרַח״. מַאי ״הָיוּ עָלַי לָטוֹרַח״? אָמַר רַבִּי אֶלְעָזָר, אָמַר הַקָּדוֹשׁ בָּרוּךְ הוּא: לֹא דַּיָּין לְיִשְׂרָאֵל שֶׁחוֹטְאִין לְפָנַי, אֶלָּא שֶׁמַּטְרִיחִין אוֹתִי לֵידַע אֵיזוֹ גְּזֵירָה קָשָׁה אָבִיא עֲלֵיהֶן! אָמַר רַבִּי יִצְחָק: אֵין לְךָ כׇּל רֶגֶל וָרֶגֶל שֶׁלֹּא בָּאתָה בּוֹלֶשֶׁת לְצִיפּוֹרִי. וְאָמַר רַבִּי חֲנִינָא: אֵין לְךָ כׇּל רֶגֶל וָרֶגֶל שֶׁלֹּא בָּא לִטְבֶרְיָה אַגְמוֹן וְקֹמְטוֹן וּבַעַל זְמוֹרָה.

Rabbi Yoḥanan continued to answer the questions of Rabbi Ḥiyya bar Abba and Rabbi Asi: For what reason are the Festivals in Babylonia more joyous than those in Eretz Yisrael? Because they were not included in that curse with which Eretz Yisrael was cursed, as it is written: “And I will cause all of her happiness to cease, her Festival, her New Moon, and her Shabbat and all her Festivals” (Hosea 2:13). And it is also written: “My soul hates your New Moons and your Festivals; they are a burden to Me; I am weary to bear them” (Isaiah 1:14). What is the meaning of the phrase: “They are a burden to me”? Rabbi Elazar said that the Holy One, Blessed be He, said: Is it not enough for the Jewish people that they sin before Me, that they also burden Me to know which harsh decree I will bring upon them? Rabbi Yitzḥak said: Because of this curse, there is not a single Festival on which troops did not come to Tzippori to conduct searches or to collect taxes. And Rabbi Ḥanina said: There is not a single Festival on which an egmon and a kamton and a branch bearer, Roman officials, did not come to Tiberias to collect taxes, thereby disrupting the festive celebrations.

The Abravanel in commentary to Isaiah 1:14, provides a chilling counterpoint to the ideal of the “Holy Convocations” (*mikra’ei kodesh*), explaining how the festivals can be stripped of their divinity and rendered **hollow**. In his commentary on the verse in Isaiah (*”Your New Moons and your festivals My soul hates”*), Abravanel argues that Hashem’s rejection is not directed at the festivals He commanded, but at “your” festivals—the ones the people invented for their own purposes. He identifies a crucial distinction: a true Moed originates from Hashem and aims to sanctify time, whereas a “hollow” Moed is invented by man, such as the festivals of Yerevam, intended only for idol worship or self-gratification. When the holiday is celebrated merely as an excuse for physical indulgence, gluttony, and social discord, the sacred time is emptied of its spiritual substance. In this state, the festival becomes a *hollow* shell; it is no longer a meeting with the Divine, but a burdensome social gathering that He “tires of bearing.”

Expanding on this theme of spiritual emptiness, Abravanel emphasizes that the physical acts of the festival: the feasting, the clean clothes, and even the sacrifices—become “enablers of sin” when they are disconnected from ethical behavior. While the purpose of a true festival is divine joy and strength, a hollow festival results in divine hatred and weariness because the prerequisite of justice is missing. He interprets Isaiah’s rebuke to mean that if a person spreads their hands in prayer while those very hands are stained with the “blood” of the oppressed, the ritual is **hollow** and offensive to God. True celebration requires “washing and becoming pure” through justice, such as defending the orphan and the widow, rather than bringing sacrifices with “bloody hands.” For Abravanel, the festivals are only meetings on Hashem’s calendar when the external joy of the feast reflects an internal commitment to moral integrity; without this, the most elaborate holiday is merely a hollow performance that Hashem hides His eyes from in disgust.

This exploration of the festivals reveals a profound tension between the invitation and the execution. Through the lens of the Ramban, we see the ideal: the *Moed* as a grand national open house, where the removal of technical priestly detail serves to highlight the accessibility of the Divine to every individual. This is the Mishkan at its peak—a vibrant, shared space where the “joy of the Eternal” is the primary dish served at the table. By treating the nation as guests rather than subjects, the Torah establishes a framework of mutual dignity and sacred encounter, transforming the calendar into a series of appointments with the Infinite.

However, the warnings of *chalal* (profanation) and the biting critique of the Abravanel remind us that the “Hallowed” is always at risk of being “Hollowed.” When the external trappings of the feast—the clean clothes, the fine wine, and the public assembly—are severed from an internal core of justice and moral integrity, the festival collapses into a **hollow** performance. As the Abravanel poignantly notes, the transition from “My festivals” to “your festivals” occurs when the focus shifts from honoring Hashem to self-gratification or social discord. Ultimately, the sanctity of the Mishkan and its festivals is not a static reality but a dynamic responsibility; it is only through “washing and becoming pure” in our ethical lives that we ensure the festivals remain a source of divine strength rather than a hollow burden that the soul of the Almighty can no longer bear.

© The Times of Israel (Blogs)