Efrat, Israel – “And he made the ephod of gold, blue, and purple and scarlet…And he made the breastplate of artistic work...He made the robe of the ephod, weaving it completely...And they made coats of fine linen of woven work” (Exodus 39:1-31).

Why should priestly garments be so elaborately constructed, gold beaten into threads, embroidered sashes, blues and purples and scarlets skillfully and intricately woven?  In this week’s portion Pekuday, some 30 verses are devoted to the making of the priestly garments, and several portions back in Tetzaveh, more than 40 verses were devoted to these same garments. What’s clear is that the priestly garments were unusual, awesome to behold.

Granted that priests should look different from the rest of the nation, but why isn’t a white garment sufficient, something simple and functional?   Indeed, one might even argue that priests should not wear anything special or unique because of G-d’s declaration to all of Israel: “You shall be unto me a kingdom of priests and a holy nation” (Exodus 19:6).

Furthermore, in Tractate Zevachim (17b), the Talmud teaches that “..while their [priestly] garments are upon them, the priesthood is upon them. If their garments are not upon them, the priesthood is not upon them.” In other words, without the garments there is no priesthood, a far-reaching statement.

Over the centuries many commentators have addres¬sed themselves to the question of priestly garb. In Tractate Eruchin (16a), R. Annani bar Sasson asks why portions of the priestly garments is next to that of the sacrifices, and the answer given is that just as the sacrifices atone for sins, these garments atone for sins as well—the tunic for murder, the breeches for illicit sexual acts, the waist sash for one’s innermost thoughts, the ephod for idol worship, the robe for slander, the turban for haughtiness...

Nachmanides sees the priestly garments as the garb of kingship and royalty, each one of the garments regal in its own right. For Nachmanides, the priestly garb need not be seen beyond its inherent beauty intended to exalt the priest into the domain of the majestic.

The author of the Sefer Hachinuch, an anonymous commentary on the 613 commandments first published in l523 (usually identified as Rabbi Aharon HaLevy), acknowledges that a person’s inner being is affected by his outer garments. Thought follows action, and since a priest must have special thoughts when he performs the service, unless he is transformed himself he won’t be able to achieve the required concentration, a process which begins with the act of getting dressed in special garb. Extraordinary garments are intended to transform an ordinary human being into someone who becomes a master of thought— kavanot. This idea recalls the text in Tractate Zevachim which states that without the priestly garments “there is no priesthood.”

The Netziv (1817-1893) in his Torah commentary follows the principle of the Sefer HaChinuch except that he switches the focus from the priest to the Israelite coming upon the glory of the priests in their ceremonious garb. Seeking atonement, he is confronted with the gravity of what is about to transpire. And since the ultimate purpose of the sacrifice is to bring about this atonement, it is the Israelite’s thoughts which are most significant, his contrition, his encounter with the transcendent. The garments of the priests are intended to draw the individual closer to his own spiritual cleansing.

These explanations certainly illuminate the complex and varied role of the priestly garment. But I would suggest that if we look at the first time a garment is mentioned in the Torah, we discover that there is more to clothes than meets the eye.

When Adam and Eve are exiled from the Garden of Eden, the text tells us that  “...the Lord G-d made for Adam and his wife, garments of skin, and clothed them” (Genesis 3:21).

Two verses later G-d drives them out of the Garden of Eden, and because of the power of the tale of this banishment, the reader tends to overlook how unique it is that G-d Himself created these garments.

After the creation of the universe, G-d commanded man to conquer the world, “...replenish the earth and subdue it, and have domin¬ion” (Gen. 1:28). The world is a tabula rasa for man to discover, unravel, invent, define, and so man discovers fire and bronze, wheels and windmills, atoms and electricity. There is nothing that man doesn’t discover except the clothes on his back, and this he carries with him when he is banished. But of all the potential discoveries within human scope why should the creation of a garment be relegated to G-d Himself? What can it possibly mean?

It was a serpent that led to the banishment of man. Condemned to eat dust, the serpent remains naked, but G-d forms these garments for man to rise above his animal nature.

Worn in modesty, a garment paves the road toward recapturing what was lost in the Garden, redeeming a measure of holiness.

If we glance at the more visible symbols of Jewish life, we see how sanctity is associated with a covering. Inside the synagogue, the Sefer Torah is covered with its special garb; this is also the case regarding the table upon which the Torah is read from, similarly the Ark in which the Scroll stands. Everything holy needs a covering and it all began with the human body.

Commanded to wear unique garb during the temple service, the priest puts us in touch with the separation between the human and the animal. Perhaps the reason why G-d creates these garments Himself is because the passage between the two realms—before exile and after exile—requires that G-d point the human in the direction he must take in order to fight the lure of the animal kingdom.

Departing from the Garden of Eden, Adam and Eve are taught the holiness of the body. Once they know this, they can go out and “conquer” the world, transforming it in the process, but if they forget that the body is holy, then the world transforms them, in the process getting drawn closer to their animalistic nature.

From the Jewish point of view, clothes do not make the man. Clothes do, however, distinguish the man, reminding him of the inherent sanctity of the body separating man from beast, priest from ordinary laymen.