"The fire on the altar"
(Leviticus 6:5)
Nisan 9, 5786/March 27, 2026
"The fire burning on the Altar must never be extinguished." (Leviticus 6:5)
To insure this be so, kohanim are commanded to feed the altar fires every morning with fresh timber and to daily tend to the altar flame. Neither rain nor sleet nor hail nor snow must ever be allowed to extinguish the eternal flame that rises up day and night, day after day, from the great stone altar that stands just east of the Temple Sanctuary. This is the flame that consumes the offerings of Israel, her public offerings made on behalf of the entire nation, and her private offerings made by individuals for an array of reasons, to atone, to rectify, to fulfill a commitment and to give thanks.
This is the flame that is brought into the Kodesh - the Temple Sanctuary, and is placed upon the golden altar to kindle the incense offering performed each day by the kohanim. This is the flame that provides the metaphorical "rei'ach ni'cho'ach - the sweet savor" representing HaShem's deep pleasure with His children's yearning for closeness, yearning for His blessing, yearning to live in the warmth of His light. This is the flame that must never go out.
This flame first appeared atop the altar erected by Adam and Eve as they atoned for their transgression in Eden. This is the flame that burned upon the altar built by Noach, whose offerings were offerings of thanks and gratitude.
This is the flame that torched up the dark night when Avraham asked "HaShem G-d, how will I know that I will inherit" the land? (Genesis 15:8) and HaShem told him "Take for Me three heifers and three goats and three rams, and a turtle dove and a young bird." (ibid 15:9) And "Now it came to pass that the sun had set, and it was dark, and behold, a smoking furnace and a fire brand, which passed between these parts." (ibid 15:17)
This was the flame that blazed upon the altar at Moriah, built by Avraham to make an offering of his son Yitzchak, at G-d's command. This was the flame that consumed the ram whose horns, caught in a thicket, signaled to Avraham that this was the offering that HaShem truly desired.
This is the flame that caught Moshe's attention, burning in a bush on Horev, the Mountain of G-d, burning, but not consuming, an unextinguishable flame from which HaShem spoke: "I am the G-d of your father, the G-d of Avraham, the G-d of Yitzchak, and the G-d of Yaakov." (Exodus 3:6)
This is the flame that burned brightly at Sinai, as "the entire Mount Sinai smoked because HaShem had descended upon it in fire, and its smoke ascended like the smoke of the kiln, and the entire mountain quaked violently." (ibid 19:18) This is the flame that burned at the Tabernacle throughout all its stations in Sinai and Shiloh, where it burned for three hundred and sixty nine years.
This eternal flame that has burned without pause through the ages now burns on the altar of earth and stone, built by man on the mountain of Zion in the heart of Jerusalem, on the very place in creation where the Tree of Knowledge once stood, where Adam first sinned and where atonement and attachment to HaShem is made possible.
Of course it must never be allowed to falter. Of course it must be fed each day, nourished not just with fresh timber, properly hewn and dried, but with the love of G-d's children for their Father whose Presence fills the Temple Mount just as it filled Mount Sinai. Like so much of creation, HaShem has delegated His fire to man to attend to and care for, just as He first placed man "in the Garden of Eden to work it and to guard it." (Genesis 2:15)
The altar flame, the eternal altar flame is now man's cosmic responsibility to guard and to keep afire.
Not so the altar ashes, of which Aharon and his sons are commanded to gather up and take away each new day: "This is the Torah of the burnt offering: The burnt offering itself shall remain where it is burned upon the altar all night until morning, while the fire on the altar is kept going on it. The kohen shall dress in linen raiment, with linen breeches next to his body; and he shall take up the ashes to which the fire has reduced the burnt offering on the altar and place them beside the altar. He shall then take off his vestments and put on other vestments, and carry the ashes outside the camp to a pure place." (Leviticus 6:2-4)
The altar ashes are not the altar flame. They are the remains of yesterday's offerings, yesterday's dreams and aspirations. They are not to be kept. They need be removed to make way for today's new dreams and aspirations, for today's new offerings. We mortals are blessed to live out our days and hours in the living presence of HaShem's eternity, made visible by the altar fire, made manifest by the two way conversation, the intimate atop-Mount-Sinai-huddle with HaShem via the performance of our offerings.
But our offerings are, alas, time-bound as we are, and must be cleared off each day to make way for the new. In this way we can keep apace with HaShem, walk with G-d as our forefathers did, making new our selves each morning, being reborn every day and experiencing HaShem's blessing, His breath of life in our lungs, as we dare each dawn to meet the eternal in our own small way, to keep the fire going, to keep HaShem near and to bask in the warm glow of His eternal flame.
More on Shabbos HaGadol at https://templeinstitute.org/
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