Elevating the Human Spirit: Lessons from Parshat Tzav

A Deeper Look at the Offerings in Parshat Tzav

Parshat Tzav opens with detailed instructions for the kohanim (priests) regarding the korbanot (offerings) brought in the Mishkan (Tabernacle). On the surface, the Torah lays out a system of ritual order: how to remove ashes, when to stoke the altar’s fire, and the precise ingredients for different offerings. Yet beneath this technical surface lies a profound psychological and spiritual roadmap that speaks not only to ancient Israel but to every individual Jew throughout the generations.

The parsha begins: “Hashem spoke to Moshe, saying: Command Aharon and his sons, saying, ‘This is the law of the burnt offering… it shall remain on the altar all night until morning, and the fire on the altar shall be kept burning on it’” (Vayikra 6:1–2).

Rashi comments, “The word ‘command’ [tzav] always denotes urgency, for now and for future generations.” Quoting Rabbi Shimon, Rashi explains that urgency is mandated where there is a “financial loss."

Since the burnt offering is entirely consumed on the altar and brings no tangible benefit to the offerer or the kohen, a person needs extra motivation to act. This isn’t only true of Temple service. It reflects a timeless human truth. When the reward isn’t immediate, and the effort feels sacrificial, we tend to hesitate. That’s why the Torah urges us, both then and now, to act quickly and resolutely.

Sublimation Over Suppression: Harnessing the Inner Fire

Despite the meticulous details of the offerings, the act of sacrifice was never meant to be a robotic ritual. Each korban was deeply tied to an emotional and spiritual process within the individual. A critical step in the sacrificial process was confession, the verbal acknowledgment of one’s misdeeds. Without this sincere inner transformation, the external ritual would be empty.

This point is emphasized by the prophet Yirmiyahu, quoted in the haftarah for Parshat Tzav. He rebukes the people for relying on sacrifices while ignoring their ethical and spiritual obligations: “I did not speak to your forefathers or command them on the day I brought them out of Egypt about burnt offerings and sacrifices. But this is what I commanded them: ‘Obey My voice…’” (Yirmiyahu 7:22–23). Ritual cannot replace real change.

This idea stands in stark contrast to certain Christian approaches that advocate for the suppression of human desire. Both Friedrich Nietzsche and Rav Kook reject this denial. Nietzsche writes in The Will to Power: “There is no worse confusion than replacing growth with restraint.” In The Twilight of the Idols, he criticizes the Church for weakening man under the pretense of saving him.

Instead, Nietzsche, and, profoundly, Rav Kook, advocate for sublimation: not the rejection of desire, but its refinement and redirection. As Rav Kook writes, “To reveal the light of peace… not by rejecting any force… but by integrating it into the infinite sea of Divine light.”

Sublimation is hard work. It demands that we take full responsibility for ourselves, as Nietzsche notes in Thus Spoke Zarathustra: “Man is something that shall be overcome.” We are not doomed to our nature; we are empowered to transform it.

Transforming the Self: Confession, Renewal, and Inner Fire

In practical terms, the sacrificial process and the broader journey of personal growth consist of three key stages.

First is vidui, confession: the courageous act of acknowledging our flaws and taking responsibility for change. This transforms our offerings from mechanical actions into meaningful expressions of growth. That is why most offerings following sin prohibit chametz (leavened bread), which is a symbol of ego and unchecked impulse. Yet the korban todah (thanksgiving offering), representing spiritual ascent and gratitude, uniquely includes chametz. As the Torah states, “With loaves of chametz bread he shall offer his sacrifice of thanksgiving” (Vayikra 7:13). What was once off-limits becomes sanctified through transformation.

The second stage is letting go of the past. After the offering, the kohen removes the ashes and brings them outside the camp (Vayikra 6:4). The Shelah explains that this teaches us to move on from guilt once it has served its purpose. The sinner should not be constantly reminded, “Remember your past mistakes.” True growth includes self-forgiveness and making space for renewal.

The final stage is maintaining the fire, namely the drive, passion, and upward trajectory of the soul. “A permanent fire shall remain aflame on the altar; it shall not be extinguished” (Vayikra 6:6). The Maggid of Mezeritch teaches: to extinguish the “no” within us, the voice of spiritual apathy, requires constant inner fire. Rav Yisrael Meir Kagan (the Chafetz Chaim) applies the law of “ascending in holiness” not only to physical items but to people: we must keep climbing, ever higher in sanctity.

The Choice to Change: A Message of Hope

At times, transformation feels impossible. That’s why we need real-life examples of those who overcame unimaginable odds. Dr. Edith Eger, a Holocaust survivor and author of The Choice: Embrace the Impossible, shares this empowering message: “Time doesn’t heal. What we do with time does. Healing comes when we take responsibility, risk, and finally release the wound.”

Eger, who danced in Auschwitz to entertain Dr. Mengele and survived against all odds, emphasizes: “You can’t change what happened to you… but you can choose how you live now.” Her message echoes the essence of Parshat Tzav: no matter our past, we have the power to refine ourselves and even transform pain into purpose.

Dr. Roi Cohen holds a PhD in philosophy from the Hebrew University. He is also a lawyer, mediator, producer, director, and content creator.