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Stones That Open a Heart

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This week, we study the vestments worn by the High Priest as he performed his service in the Temple. The High Priest represents the epitome of holiness; he is the closest a human can be to G‑d. Selected to represent the entire nation in prayer, supplication, offering, and song to the Almighty, he embodies divine service. He is G‑d’s servant par excellence, the earthly manifestation of G‑dliness.

His vestments were carefully designed by G‑d down to the finest detail. This is both astounding and fascinating. The Creator of heaven and earth—the designer of endless galaxies, limitless beauty, exquisite depth, and brilliant wisdom—assumed the role of a clothes designer to clothe the High Priest. The product of Divine imagination was breathtaking: a beauty unparalleled in the annals of human design.

Yet our appreciation of this beauty is finite compared to the profoundness invested in these garments. It is more than color, shape, size, or flow. It is more than a symbol of inspiration. Every line, every detail, contains limitless depth and Divine significance. We may never fathom it fully, but one thing is certain: embedded in every element is a profundity beyond imagination.

Today, I want to focus on one detail in the Torah’s description of the High Priest’s apron. On his shoulders rested two brilliant onyx stones, engraved with the names of the twelve tribes. The script resembled that of a signet ring. The Torah calls them pituchei chotam—literally, the “markings of a seal.” (Exodus 28:11)

In this context, the translation is straightforward. Yet, if an AI translator were asked to translate the phrase without context, it might render it as “the openings of a seal.” This subtle distinction is meaningful. The stones of the High Priest are described as openings of a seal, and our task today is to explore their significance.

Two Stones Let me share a brilliant commentary by Rabbi Yisrael Halevi of Modzitz, which transforms these stones from mere beautiful design into a source of profound inspiration.

The Torah presents two symbolic stones central to human experience. The first is the Torah itself, engraved on stone tablets. The second is our evil inclination, described by the prophet Ezekiel (36:26) as our heart of stone:

“And I will give you a new heart, and a new spirit I will put within you; and I will remove the heart of stone from your flesh, and I will give you a heart of flesh.”

The human condition responds to these two stones: the heart of stone and the Torah engraved in stone. Both have openings and seals. The Torah is designed to open what is sealed and seal what is open, whereas the evil inclination operates in reverse.

Opening the Seal The Torah’s purpose is to open our hearts to G‑d: “I will remove the heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh.” Our hearts—our passions and interests—naturally gravitate toward what brings us pleasure. For some, this is simple physical enjoyment; for others, music, art, or scientific study; for most families, it is the warmth of loved ones.

The Torah calls us to open our hearts to the love of G‑d, a love not innate to human nature. Our hearts are born closed to the radiance of G‑d’s majestic presence. The Torah acts as a chisel, scraping away the ego, emptying our hearts so there is room for G‑d. Vessels filled with ego cannot contain the Divine.

Sealing the Open Opening the heart is only half the work. The Torah also seals what is open—our eyes and senses, which can lead us into sin. The sages teach that the eyes and heart are “merchants of sin.” The eye roves, sees what it should not, and the heart covets. The Torah empowers us to rein in this roving eye, to seal the senses from distraction.

The evil inclination works in the opposite manner: it seals the heart once we open it to G‑d, and it opens the eyes when we avert them from sin. Just as it takes a skilled jeweler to engrave a stone with precision, it takes Divine wisdom to open what is sealed and seal what is open.

Inspirational Stones When the High Priest strode through the Temple corridors, the light reflected off the onyx stones, scattering a brilliant kaleidoscope across the room. Each Jew experienced a fragment of that radiance. It was not merely artistry; it was inspiration.

The people, inspired by the garments designed by G‑d, would go to the study hall, engage in prayer, and learn Torah with renewed resolve to open their hearts to G‑d.

Our love of G‑d is measured by our detachment from worldly pleasures. If our hearts are open to G‑d but still clinging to fleeting pleasures, it is like pouring fine wine into a barrel lined with rubble—the wine has space, but it is ruined. True devotion requires opening the heart to G‑d while closing it to distractions.

This is why the High Priest had two onyx stones: one to open hearts to G‑d, the other to close eyes and hearts to worldly distractions. The stones themselves were inanimate, but worn by the High Priest in the holy Temple, they became instruments of inspiration.

Modern Application How can we inspire such a transformation today? By learning Torah. If physical stones could inspire the people in the Temple, surely the words of Torah can move our hearts even more profoundly.

The Talmud tells us that Rabbi Akiva was forty years old before he even knew how to read Hebrew, let alone study Torah. His wife, Rachel, recognized the potential within him and encouraged him to begin. At first, he refused, convinced he was too old to start anew. His heart was hardened, encrusted with bitterness toward Torah scholars, and he was not ready to open himself to the words of Torah.

One day, Rabbi Akiva noticed a stone near a well, worn through by centuries of water droplets. He reflected: if a hard, unyielding stone can be softened and shaped by the persistent drip of water, surely a heart, even one hardened by years of neglect, could be opened by the persistent study of Torah. Inspired, he began to learn—and before long, Rabbi Akiva rose to become one of the most influential and storied Torah scholars in Jewish history.

Rabbi Akiva’s life demonstrates the profound truth we have been discussing: the Torah can open a sealed heart and seal a wandering eye. Let us gird our souls to do the same—to open what is closed and close what should remain sealed. In this way, we prepare ourselves for the Redemption, when the High Priest will once again wear the onyx stones, and hearts will be renewed in holiness.


© The Times of Israel (Blogs)