It was supposed to be a smooth end to a long journey. Since the catastrophic incident of the Golden Calf, the Jewish people had been treading a difficult, angst-ridden path to redemption. Moshe had ascended Mount Sinai for a forty-day period, twice, to pray for forgiveness and for God to “walk amongst them once more” (Shemot 34:9). The Jews had donated generously and worked tirelessly on the construction of the Mishkan: a house to which they hoped God’s presence would return. The Kohanim, the future priests, had been trained for seven inaugural days, preparing them for the “יום השמיני, the eighth day”, which lends its name to the parashah. On this day, the Kohanim were to fully and formally take over the service of the Mishkan. It would become functional for everyday use. The eyes of the nation, that had wept tears of regret and now reflected the steely resolution of repentees, were all on Aharon. As the Kohen Gadol, he would offer the sacrifices that they hoped would herald the return of God’s presence to them.

This was not just a national narrative but a personal one. Aharon, too, had deeply painful memories of the Golden Calf. After all, he had built it. Why? It is hard to tell. The Talmud[1] suggests that it was strategic damage limitation. The people had massed around him, demanding that he “make them a god…”  (Shemot 32:1) to replace Moshe. They had already shed blood once, and in such upheaval, might do it again. It would be better, Aharon reasoned, that they shed their covenant with God rather than shed the blood of each other. Peace prevailed over piety. The considerations behind his decision might have been noble, but the consequences were catastrophic.

Now, with all of that behind them, Aharon took over as the Kohen Gadol. He performed every detail of the long and specific inaugural process flawlessly. The Torah details that all of the services were completed as required (Vayikra 9:1–21). Yet the desired conclusion did not come: God’s presence was nowhere to be seen. Aharon blessed the people and descended the altar (ibid. 22), but the Mishkan remained empty of this sign of Divine forgiveness. Aharon was disheartened:

When Aharon saw that all the (required) actions had been done and the Divine Presence had not descended to Israel, he was pained. He said, “I know that the Holy One, Blessed be He, is angry with me and it is my fault that the Divine Presence has not descended to Israel.” He said to Moshe, “Moshe, my brother, this is what you did to me! I entered (the Mishkan) and was humiliated!” Moshe immediately entered with him. They begged for mercy, and the Divine Presence descended to Israel. (Rashi ibid. 9:23).

As Rashi describes, the disappointment was short-lived. Indeed, the Torah, immediately afterwards, reports:

And then Moshe and Aharon went into the Tent of Meeting, and they came out, they blessed the People, and the Glory of God was shown to all the People. (Vayikra 9:23)

What changed? What was the magic formula that meant that Aharon was insufficient until Moshe joined him? It cannot be that Moshe was able to generate the arrival of the Divine Presence. After all, Rashi continues:

…For all seven (preceding) inaugural days, Moshe constructed the Mishkan and served and dismantled it every day, and the Divine Presence did not rest within it. The Jews were ashamed and said to Moshe, “Our teacher, Moshe! All the toil of our labour was so the Divine Presence would dwell in our midst and we would know that the sin of the (Golden) Calf had been forgiven!” (Rashi 9:23)

There is clear symmetry here. Both Aharon and Moshe tried to bring the Divine Presence into the midst of the Jews. Both initially failed. Why?

An answer to this question can be found if we reflect on an interesting passage in the Talmud. During a debate over the merits and drawbacks of finding a compromise in court between two quarreling parties, the Gemara tells us:

R. Eliezer, son of R. Yosei HaGelili, says: It is prohibited to mediate a dispute; and anyone who mediates a dispute is a sinner… Rather, justice must pierce the mountain (always prevail), as it is stated: “For the judgment is God’s” (Devarim 1:17). And similarly, Moshe would say: “Let the judgment pierce the mountain”. But Aharon loved peace and pursued peace, and made peace between people… (Sanhedrin 6b)

Moshe and Aharon were very different. They represented two very different approaches. Moshe was a man of legislation. Aharon was a man of mediation. Moshe was a man of truth and justice. He was the mouthpiece through which God gave us the Torah, a book of law and of absolute truth. Aharon was a man of peace. Making peace requires compromise. It requires of those arguing to look beyond the truth, or at least be prepared to, at minimum, slightly obfuscate it. If they only focus on who between the two of them is correct, they will never have peace: truth is singular, peace is something that exists between a plurality.

When Moshe saw the Golden Calf, he smashed the Luchot. Tablets which had the Torah engraved on them could not be given to those who were unfaithful to God. There was no peace to be had with such a betrayal of truth. Aharon initiated the building of the Golden Calf for the opposite reason: it would be better for the Jews to serve an idol, he reasoned, than tear themselves apart in a civil war over the truth.

In a world of only truth and justice, human beings, deceitful by design, have no place. In a world of peace, human beings, fickle and anchorless, have no purpose. Truth is too much, and peace is not enough. Truth comes from heaven; peace is made on earth. Neither alone is sufficient to bring heaven down to earth.

Only when truth and peace meet, can God’s glory be seen. Only when Moshe the lawgiver and Aharon the peacemaker tried together, did God’s presence come down to earth:

Moshe and Aharon came to the entrance of the Tent of Meeting, and they went out and blessed the nation, etc.: This teaches us that after Aharon (alone) had blessed them, the Divine Presence didn’t appear. Moshe was pained. (Then) they both entered and prayed… upon them it was said (Kohelet 4:9) “טובים השנים מן האחד—two are better than one…” (Pesikta Zutrata Vayikra 27a)

Or, in the words of David:

חֶֽסֶד־וֶאֱמֶ֥ת נִפְגָּ֑שׁוּ צֶ֖דֶק וְשָׁל֣וֹם נָשָֽׁקוּ (תהילים פה:ט–יא)

Kindness and truth met; justice and peace embraced (Tehilim 85:11)

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