This week in Parashat Tetzaveh, we encounter the mitzvah of the ner tamid:
וְאַתָּה תְּצַוֶּה אֶת־בְּנֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל… לְהַעֲלֹת נֵר תָּמִיד
You shall command the children of Israel… to light an eternal flame (Exodus 27:20)
This translation of the ner tamid conjures an image of something mystical and self-sustaining, a light that almost magically never goes out.
But the medieval commentator Abraham ibn Ezra notes that tamid does not necessarily mean “unceasing” in the absolute sense. Rather, it can mean regularly, continually, without interruption over time. This flame in the Mishkan, in God’s dwelling place among B’nai Yisrael, did not burn by miracle alone. It required oil. It required tending. It required human hands.
The light was eternal not because it burned on its own, but because the community kept lighting it.
The Torah does not command a magical flame. It commands people to take responsibility for sustaining the light. The holiness of God’s dwelling place among the people depends on participation. And the same is true for the Jewish people now in 2026.
The ner tamid that hangs in our sanctuary at Beth Tzedec Congregation is not merely a symbolic nod to the building guidelines of the Mishkan. It reflects a covenantal truth: Jewish community only remains vibrant when we continue to bring light through presence, generosity, learning, and care.
Participation matters. It matters when you show up to help make a minyan. It matters when you learn in Reb Steve’s Talmud class, Rabbi Fryer Bodzin’s Torah Through The Ages, or Daniel’s Talking Torah class, and wrestle with a text. It matters when you volunteer with our Chesed committee to cook, visit, or call someone in need. It matters when you support the synagogue financially, ensuring that the lights, both literal and spiritual, remain burning.
Especially in a world that can feel fragmented and dim, the Torah reminds us that light is not automatic. It is sustained by communal commitment. By choosing, again and again, to invest in shared sacred space.
The ner tamid is not eternal because it burns forever untouched. It is eternal because we refuse to let it go out.
May we each find one way this week to bring light to our community, particularly in this time of Purim joy. May the light we kindle together continue to glow in our sanctuary and in our lives.
Shabbat Shalom and Chag Purim Sameach!