The Kohen Ha-Gadol is weighted down by fiery, colored wools and fine linen, by gold, and by many rows of precious jewels. He is carrying all Israel on his shoulders and literally on his chest, both our sins and our merits. The combined weight of all this far exceeds that of a merely mortal King such as Shakespeare’s Henry IV, who lamented that “uneasy lies the head that wears the crown.” How can our Kohen Ha-Godel possibly bear the weight of such God-directed fashion, such God-instructed pomp and circumstance—and still live? Perhaps the tinkling golden bells, (“ha’pamonai zahav”), at his hemline, are there to keep him from flying away, to keep him awake, grounded, in the here-and-now.

I must admit: I always thought that the kosher butcher was some kind of Kohen Ha-Gadol. The women gathered round him, he wore an apron, there was often blood involved, it seemed as if something sacred was going on. What did I know? I was a kid in Borough Park and my entire life was still before me.

Shabbat Pekudei Shalom.

P.S. Below stands Zdenek Mermelstein, a kosher butcher in Brooklyn.