2. Tzav - Sustaining Those Who Serve

Parshat Tzav: Sustaining Those Who Serve

So Parshat Tzav keeps talking about korbanot, but now the focus shifts. It’s not just about you bringing an offering anymore. Now we’re looking at the kohanim—the priests. What happens after you give? Who gets it? How does any of this actually keep things going?

Here’s something that jumps out. The Torah says that for certain offerings, the kohanim get to eat part of them. Take the minchah offering: “The remainder of it shall be eaten by Aharon and his sons…” (Vayikra 6:9). This is not some random detail, it’s built right into the system. You bring something to Hashem, sure. But then part of it goes to the priests who serve everyone else. So giving isn’t just about feeling close to Hashem. It’s practical. It’s about feeding the people who do the work.

Think about what that means for tzedakah. Usually we think of giving as helping poor people. And yeah, that’s huge. But Parshat Tzav is adding something. A real community also has to support the people who spend their time and energy on everyone else. The kohanim didn’t own land, they didn’t build up wealth and they didn’t have side hustles. Their job was to serve in the Mishkan. Period. So the community had to take care of them. Otherwise, who’s going to keep the whole thing running?

That’s the deal. You can’t expect people to serve full-time and also figure out how to feed their families. It just doesn’t work. So the Torah builds this into the korban itself. Part of what you bring becomes food for the kohen. That means your giving is doing two things at once. It’s reaching up to Hashem. And it’s reaching out to the person serving.

That matters. Because tzedakah isn’t just for emergencies, it’s also for the long haul. Teachers, rabbis, administrators, volunteers who show up week after week—they all need support. If you want the community to stay strong, you’ve got to take care of the people holding it together.

Rambam discusses this in his laws on giving to the poor. Different kinds of giving do different things. Some help with urgent needs, some create stability and some help people stand on their own. Parshat Tzav points to another kind: sustaining the people whose job is to serve.

The kohanim are the model here. They’re at the Mishkan all the time. They’re doing the offerings, tending the space, representing the people. It never stops. The Torah even says the fire on the altar has to burn constantly: “A perpetual fire shall be kept burning on the altar; it shall not go out” (Vayikra 6:6). Constant work needs constant support. The kohen can’t just walk away to go find his own dinner, the community has to provide it.

Now bring that into your own life. Every community has people like this: teachers, rabbis, the person who runs the food pantry, the guy who shows up to fix the leaky roof at the shul. Even paid staff who could be making more money somewhere else but stay because they believe in the work. Supporting them is tzedakah, too. It keeps everything from falling apart. It lets them focus on what they’re good at instead of worrying about paying the bills.

But here’s the thing, the Torah also sets limits. The kohanim don’t just take whatever they want. The portions are clearly spelled out. Not too much, not random; but structure. That protects both sides—the kohanim get what they need, and the community trusts the system.

That’s a good lesson. Tzedakah should be thoughtful. It should meet real needs and make sense. When giving has a clear purpose, people feel good about it. No one feels taken advantage of.

You know what else is striking about this? The kohen eats the offering. Eating - while a basic human need, becomes sacred. This most basic act gets woven into the spiritual life of the Mishkan. So sustaining people isn’t separate from spirituality, it is spirituality. That meal isn’t just food, it’s part of a relationship between the person who gave, the kohen who serves, and Hashem.

Same thing when you support people in your community today. You’re not writing a check and walking away. You’re keeping a whole cycle going. Your giving becomes part of something bigger.

Another thing that Parshat Tzav reminds us is that giving doesn’t end when you hand something over. The offering gets brought, distributed, eaten. Every stage matters. The impact of tzedakah depends on what happens after you give, not just the moment of giving. That changes how you think about it. It’s not one and done, it’s a system. Your contributions sustain people and institutions over time. And there’s partnership here too. The person who brings the offering and the kohen who serves need each other. One has resources while the other has service. Together they make the whole thing work.

That’s just true about every community. No one does everything: some give money, some give time amd some give leadership. Everyone’s piece matters.

So Parshat Tzav opens up what tzedakah means. It’s not only about helping the poor—though that’s still central. It’s also about sustaining the people who make communal life possible. The ones who dedicate themselves to serving everyone else.

That lesson hits differently when you think about how much unseen work happens in every community. People put in hours no one notices. Those roles are essential. Supporting them is real righteousness.

Bottom line from Parshat Tzav?

Tzedakah isn’t just what you give, it’s about what you can sustain. When you support the people who serve, you strengthen everything. Teaching. Leadership. Care. All of it. And when you do that? You’re not just giving charity. You’re actually helping build a community that can last.