Mishnah Bekhorot 7:6-7

Shalom! Welcome, welcome! So glad you're here to explore a little Jewish wisdom with me. Think of me as your friendly guide on this journey, ready to unpack ancient texts in a way that makes sense and sparks joy in your everyday life. No prior knowledge needed, just an open heart and a curious mind. Let's dive in!

Hook

Ever have one of those days where you just don't feel "up to snuff"? Maybe you woke up with bed head that refused to cooperate, spilled coffee on your favorite shirt, or just felt a bit off-kilter. You look in the mirror and think, "Ugh, not my best day." And then you have to go out and face the world, maybe even do something important, and you wonder, "Am I really ready for this? Am I good enough?" We all have moments where we feel less than perfect, where we wonder if our imperfections might disqualify us from something meaningful. It's a very human feeling, isn't it?

In the ancient world, especially when it came to sacred service, the idea of "perfection" or "wholeness" was taken quite literally. The texts we’re about to explore come from a time when the physical appearance of those performing holy tasks, and even the animals offered, was considered deeply significant. It wasn't about personal beauty pageants or judging someone's worth as a human being – far from it! Instead, it was about the very specific, symbolic requirements for a particular sacred role within the Holy Temple. Imagine preparing for a grand, once-in-a-lifetime ceremony. Every detail, every participant, every item needs to be just right, not because anything less is "bad," but because the moment itself demands the highest possible standard of presentation and integrity. The people who were tasked with representing the entire community before the Divine were held to a unique standard, almost like a living, breathing symbol of the nation's aspiration for holiness. Their role was less about their individual personality and more about their function as a pure conduit for spiritual connection.

Now, I know what you might be thinking: "Wait, does Judaism really judge people based on how they look?" Absolutely not, not in our everyday lives! Our tradition teaches that every single person is created b'tzelem Elokim, in the image of God, and is inherently infinitely valuable and beautiful. These ancient laws are a snapshot of a very particular time and place, for a very specific ritual purpose that no longer exists in the same way. The challenge, and the fun, of learning these texts today is to uncover the deeper, timeless lessons hidden beneath the surface. What can these seemingly strict physical requirements teach us about what true wholeness means for us in our lives, today, when we are called to serve God and humanity in our own unique ways? How can we take these ideas about outward appearance and translate them into a call for inner integrity, focus, and presence? Let's peel back the layers and see what wisdom awaits!

Context

To really understand our text today, let's set the stage. We're stepping back in time to an era that might feel very different from our own, but whose wisdom still echoes.

• Who were the Kohanim (priests)? These were the descendants of Aaron, Moses’s brother, chosen by God for a special role. A Kohen (plural: Kohanim) means a Jewish priest. Their job was to lead the sacred services in the Holy Temple. It was a hereditary role, passed down from father to son. Think of them as the spiritual service team of ancient Israel.
• When was this relevant? These laws were specifically for the time when the Temple (ancient Jewish holy house) stood in Jerusalem. The First Temple was destroyed in 586 BCE, and the Second Temple in 70 CE. The text we're studying, the Mishnah, was compiled around 200 CE, after the destruction of the Second Temple. The Mishnah means an ancient Jewish law book. The Rabbis compiled it to preserve these laws, even though the Temple was no longer standing, so that future generations would know how things used to be and what principles underpinned that service.
• Where did this happen? All these rituals took place in the Holy Temple in Jerusalem. This was the spiritual center of the Jewish world, the place where God's presence was felt most intensely. It was a magnificent structure, designed to be a focal point for worship and connection with the Divine.
• What's a "blemish" (mum)? In this context, a blemish (in Hebrew, mum) means a disqualifying flaw. Now, this is super important: for a Kohen or an animal sacrifice, a "blemish" did not mean they were "bad" or "worthless." It simply meant they weren't suitable for this specific ritual role in the Temple. It's like how a professional athlete might be perfectly healthy but have a minor injury that disqualifies them from a particular game – it doesn't mean they're not a valuable person or athlete, just that they can't perform that specific task right now. The Temple service was understood to be an act of bringing perfection to God. Therefore, the Kohen, as the representative of the people, and the animal, as the offering, needed to be physically "whole" and unblemished, symbolizing completeness and purity for this sacred purpose. This was a technical, ritual requirement, not a judgment on personal worth or beauty. God cherishes every individual, regardless of their physical form. These laws were about the symbolic integrity of the service itself.

To expand on this a bit, imagine trying to present a gift to someone truly esteemed. You’d want that gift to be in pristine condition, wrapped perfectly, every detail just right, not because the recipient would reject a slightly creased package, but because you want to show your utmost respect and care. The Temple service was, in a profound sense, the ultimate act of giving to God, and the Kohanim were the ones presenting that "gift" on behalf of the entire nation. Their physical wholeness was a symbolic reflection of the nation's aspiration for spiritual wholeness and dedication.

Think about a meticulously crafted piece of art. Even a tiny, almost invisible flaw might be considered a "blemish" by the artist or a connoisseur, not because it makes the art "bad," but because it deviates from the intended perfection. The Kohen, in his role, was a living piece of "sacred art," representing humanity's purest offering. The Mishnah, in cataloging these specific blemishes, wasn't creating a list of "undesirable people." Instead, it was meticulously defining the boundaries of what constituted ritual "completeness" or "wholeness" (shleimut) for this highly specialized and symbolic function.

These detailed discussions in the Mishnah also reflect the Rabbis’ dedication to understanding and preserving every facet of Jewish law, even those that were no longer practically applicable after the Temple’s destruction. It was an act of intellectual and spiritual devotion – keeping the memory and the intricate details of the Temple alive, so that the knowledge and wisdom inherent in its structure and service would never be lost. They believed that even in its absence, the Temple's laws could teach us profound lessons about holiness, intention, and our relationship with the Divine. So, when we read about these specific physical conditions, remember we're looking at a text that is both a historical record and a source of deeper, metaphorical truths.

Text Snapshot

Let's look at a few lines from Mishnah Bekhorot 7:6-7, which list various things that could be considered "blemishes" for a Kohen (priest) serving in the Temple:

"The kere’aḥ is disqualified... What is a kere’aḥ? It is anyone who does not have a row of hair encircling his head from ear to ear... If a priest has no eyebrows, or if he has only one eyebrow, that is the gibben that is stated in the Torah (see Leviticus 21:20)...

...And one whose eyelashes have fallen out is disqualified due to the appearance of a blemish...

...And the tzomem and the tzome’a are also disqualified. What is a tzome’a? It is anyone whose ears are small. And what is the tzomem? It is anyone whose ears are similar to a sponge...

...The kushi, the giḥor, the lavkan, the kipe’aḥ, the dwarf, the deaf-mute, the imbecile, the drunk, and those with ritually pure marks, their conditions disqualify a person from performing the Temple service..."

(Mishnah Bekhorot 7:6-7, Sefaria.org: https://www.sefaria.org/Mishnah_Bekhorot_7%3A6-7)

Close Reading

Wow, that's quite a list, isn't it? From specific hair patterns to ear shapes, and even conditions like being a "dwarf" or "drunk." It can feel a bit jarring to read these ancient laws, especially when we value inclusivity and individuality so deeply today. But remember our context: this isn't about judging people's worth or beauty. It's about the very specific, symbolic requirements for a highly ritualized role in a sacred space. Let's dig deeper into what these seemingly strange rules can teach us about our own lives and our own "service" today.

Insight 1: The Ideal of Wholeness (Shleimut) in Service

The Mishnah’s extensive list of physical traits that disqualify a Kohen for Temple service points to a profound ancient Jewish value: shleimut, which means wholeness or completeness. In the context of the Temple, this wasn't about seeking aesthetic beauty in the modern sense, but rather about ensuring that everything associated with the divine service was as perfect and complete as possible, free from any perceived defect or irregularity. The Kohen, as a living, breathing instrument of service, was held to this standard.

Think about it this way: when you're building something incredibly important, like a bridge or a skyscraper, every component needs to be perfectly engineered and free of flaws. A tiny crack in a beam, while seemingly minor, could compromise the entire structure. Similarly, the Temple was seen as a spiritual bridge between heaven and earth, and the Kohen was a crucial component of that bridge. Any physical deviation from the norm, no matter how small, was considered a mum, a technical disqualification that would draw attention away from the sacred act itself, or symbolically represent something less than perfect. It wasn't about the individual Kohen's personal "fault," but about the integrity of the system of service.

Let’s look at some examples from the text and commentary. The Mishnah mentions "one whose head is pointed," "turnip-like," or "hammer-like," or "whose head has an indentation." Rambam, a revered medieval Jewish scholar, in his commentary on this Mishnah, delves into the specifics of many of these conditions. For instance, he explains "המקיש בקרסוליו" (one who knocks his ankles together) as someone whose ankles hit each other when he walks. This isn't a moral failing, but a physical impediment to smooth, graceful movement. The very act of walking through the Temple, performing the rituals, was meant to be done with dignity and precision. A Kohen with such a gait might, however unintentionally, detract from the solemnity of the service. It’s not about judging the person, but about the seamless flow of the ritual.

Another fascinating detail from Rambam’s commentary, as well as Tosafot Yom Tov, discusses the "עיקל" (bowlegged) and "פיקה" (a protuberance). Tosafot Yom Tov clarifies that "בעל פיקה הוא שתהא עקבו מאחר רגליו בולטת ויוצאת יותר מן הראוי" – meaning, someone whose heel protrudes unnaturally from their foot. Again, these are very specific physical conditions. The reason for their disqualification, from a ritual perspective, wasn't about discomfort or disability in a general sense, but about the visual and symbolic integrity of the Kohen’s physical form as a representation of "wholeness." The idea was that the Kohen should be "complete" in all his parts, without any obvious deviation that might catch the eye and distract from the profound spiritual focus of the service.

Consider the "kushi, giḥor, lavkan." Rambam explains these as referring to a "שחור" (black/dark-skinned), "אדום" (red/ruddy), and "לבן בתכלית הלובן" (extremely white/albino) person. This is often misunderstood. Rambam emphatically clarifies, "והשמר שמא תעלה בדעתך שאלו השמות נאמרו על הגוונים לפי שאינן אלא שמות לבני אדם שיש בהן אלו הגוונים" – "And beware lest you think that these names refer to the colors themselves, for they are only names for people who possess these complexions." This means it's not about race or skin color per se, but about individuals whose complexions were extremely distinct from the perceived norm of the community at that time. Again, the principle of shleimut (wholeness) here likely refers to a desire for a kind of visual uniformity or lack of striking differentiation among those performing the highly symbolic service, to prevent any focus from being drawn to the individual appearance rather than the collective, sacred act. It's a technicality for a specific role, not a statement on human diversity or worth. God, of course, delights in the diversity of humanity!

Counterargument and Nuance: It's easy to read this and think, "This is so unfair! Does God only accept perfect people?" This is where nuance is crucial. The answer is a resounding NO. God accepts everyone. These rules were for a specific ritual context that no longer exists. They were about the symbolism of the Temple service, which aimed for a representation of ideal creation. It’s like a meticulously staged play where every actor needs to fit a certain type for the story to work perfectly. It doesn't mean the actor isn't talented or worthy in other contexts. The Mishnah is teaching us about the ideal state of preparation for the highest form of spiritual engagement, not about judging human beings. The "blemish" was a technical, ritual disqualification for a particular job, not a judgment on a person's soul or their ability to connect with God in every other aspect of their lives.

Modern Application: What does this ancient concept of "wholeness" mean for us today? We don't have a Temple with Kohanim. But we do have moments of sacred service: prayer, acts of kindness, learning, being present for loved ones. For us, "wholeness" might mean bringing our full, undivided attention to these moments. It means striving to be present, to minimize distractions, to act with integrity. When we pray, are we fully present, or are our minds wandering? When we help a friend, are we doing it wholeheartedly, or are we half-hearted? The Mishnah challenges us to consider what "wholeness" means in our service, not physically, but mentally, emotionally, and spiritually.

Insight 2: Inner vs. Outer "Blemishes" – The Deeper Meaning of Disqualification

While many of the blemishes in the Mishnah are physical, the text also includes conditions that are not purely external. We read about "the deaf-mute, the imbecile, the drunk." These inclusions are incredibly insightful because they shift the focus from mere physical appearance to mental, emotional, and spiritual states that impact one's ability to serve. This is where the text truly begins to speak to our modern experience.

Consider "the drunk." Rambam's commentary on this is particularly illuminating: "The drunkard... it's not allowed for service... if one gets drunk from things that confuse the mind other than wine and strong drink, like drinking a lot of milk or eating honey... it's not judged by this law. Only if he is drunk from wine or strong drink does he profane the service." This isn't just a general statement about being impaired. Rambam specifies that the disqualification applies to intoxication from wine or strong drink. This points to a highly specific legal framework, but also to the idea that altered states of consciousness, particularly those that diminish one’s mental clarity and control, make one unfit for sacred service. You can't perform intricate, symbolic rituals if you're not fully aware and intentional.

Analogy: You wouldn't want a surgeon who's drunk performing an operation, or a pilot who's distracted flying a plane. The job demands full capacity, focus, and precision. The Kohen's job was arguably even more critical – mediating between the human and the Divine. Therefore, any state that compromised that mental clarity, focus, and intentionality was a "blemish" for that specific role. The "imbecile" or "deaf-mute" would also lack certain capacities necessary for the verbal and cognitive demands of the Temple service. Again, this is not a judgment on their inherent worth, but a recognition that the role required specific faculties.

Counterargument and Nuance: Does this mean that people with cognitive disabilities or those who struggle with addiction are inherently "blemished" in God's eyes? Absolutely not! This Mishnah speaks to a very particular ritual role, not to the inherent value or spiritual capacity of any individual. In our contemporary understanding, everyone, regardless of their physical or cognitive abilities, can connect with God, perform mitzvot (good deeds), and contribute meaningfully to their community. The lesson here is about intentionality and presence in moments we designate as sacred. The Kohen had to be fully "there," fully "present" in mind and spirit.

Modern Application: What "intoxicates" us today, pulling us away from our spiritual focus or our ability to serve others effectively? It might not be wine. It could be anger that clouds our judgment, excessive worry that prevents us from being present, ego that inflates our self-importance, or simply the constant barrage of digital distractions that keeps our minds fragmented. These are our "inner blemishes" that can "disqualify" us from truly connecting with God or being fully present for others. If we approach prayer, or a difficult conversation, or a moment of deep listening while "drunk" on our own internal chatter or external noise, we are not bringing our "whole" self to the "service." This Mishnah, therefore, becomes a powerful call for mindfulness, self-awareness, and intentional cultivation of inner clarity. It reminds us that our inner state deeply impacts our ability to engage meaningfully with the sacred in our lives.

Insight 3: The Purpose of Distinction – Elevating the Sacred

The Mishnah doesn't just list disqualifications for Kohanim; it also makes distinctions between what disqualifies a person (Kohen) versus what disqualifies an animal for sacrifice. We read, "These flaws do not disqualify a person from performing the Temple service, but they do disqualify an animal from being sacrificed: An animal whose mother or offspring were slaughtered that day... a tereifa [a mortally wounded animal]; one born by caesarean section; one with which a transgression of bestiality was performed; and one that killed a person." This distinction is incredibly important.

Notice that some conditions, like being born by caesarean section or having killed a person (for an animal), are disqualifying for animals but not for people. Conversely, many of the physical blemishes discussed earlier disqualified Kohanim, but were perfectly fine for an animal sacrifice. This tells us that the standards were specific to the type of offering and the nature of the sacred service. It wasn't a one-size-fits-all "perfection" but a highly calibrated system.

Explanation: The Kohen's role was about human representation, conscious intent, and active participation. The animal's role was about its pure, unblemished physical offering, symbolizing dedication and atonement. The "blemishes" for each were therefore different because their functions were different. An animal that was a tereifa (mortally wounded) or had participated in a transgression was fundamentally flawed in its very existence or purpose as a pure offering. Such an animal could not serve as a symbolic, perfect offering. For the Kohen, the physical and mental wholeness reflected his role as a perfect representative of the people.

Analogy: Think of different tools for different jobs. A hammer is "perfect" for driving nails, but it would be a "blemish" if you tried to use it to turn a screw. A screwdriver is "perfect" for screws, but useless for nails. Each tool has its own specific requirements for its "wholeness" or "perfection" in its designated task. The Mishnah is illustrating that holiness isn't a monolithic concept; it's nuanced and specific to the context.

Nuance/Counterargument: Does this imply a hierarchy of holiness, where some things are more sacred than others? Not necessarily. Rather, it defines the parameters of different sacred acts. Every mitzvah (commandment) is holy, but they each have their own specific requirements. This precise differentiation ensures that everything dedicated to God is brought in the most appropriate and elevated manner possible, respecting the unique nature of that dedication. It prevents a casual or haphazard approach to the sacred.

Finally, Rabban Shimon ben Gamliel adds another layer: "An imbecile among animals is not optimal for sacrifice." This suggests that even for animals, there was a desire for a degree of "wholeness" beyond just physical lack of blemish. It points to quality and appropriateness for the sacred, emphasizing that the offering should be the very best available, not just technically acceptable. This reinforces the idea that true sacred service involves bringing our highest quality, our most optimal self or offering.

Modern Application: What do we hold sacred today? Our relationships, our community, our personal growth, our environment. How do we prepare ourselves for these "sacred moments" or "sacred tasks"? Do we bring our best selves, our most "unblemished" intentions, to our family, our work, our volunteer efforts? This Mishnah encourages us to think about what "perfection" or "optimal quality" means in our context for our specific acts of service. It challenges us to elevate our everyday actions, to treat them with the same kind of intentionality and dedication that the ancient Kohanim brought to the Temple. It’s about being mindful of the unique demands of each sacred task and bringing our most fitting "self" to it.

Apply It

Okay, we’ve explored some pretty deep concepts from an ancient text. Now for the fun part: how do we bring this wisdom into our modern lives? We don't have a Temple, and we certainly don't judge people based on physical appearance. But the core lessons about wholeness, presence, and intentionality in service are incredibly relevant.

Let's try a practice I call "The Inner Kohen Check-Up." This isn't about being perfect; it's about being present and intentional in your daily "sacred service," which includes everything from your work and relationships to your moments of personal reflection and connection. The goal is to cultivate inner wholeness and dedication, recognizing that our inner state profoundly impacts our ability to truly engage with the world and with the Divine.

Here’s how you can practice it this week, taking less than 60 seconds a day:

Practice: The Inner Kohen Check-Up

This practice helps us become more aware of our internal state and intentionally align it with our desire to bring our best selves to our daily "service." Think of yourself as an "Inner Kohen" – someone dedicated to elevating the everyday.

Step 1: Morning Intention (15 seconds)

• When: First thing in the morning, before your day really kicks off, or even while you're brushing your teeth or making coffee.
• How: Pause for a moment. Take one deep, cleansing breath. As you exhale, gently release any lingering fogginess from sleep or immediate worries.
• The Question: Ask yourself, "What kind of 'Inner Kohen' do I want to be today?" This isn't about physical appearance, but about your internal state. Do you want to be focused? Kind? Patient? Present? Open-hearted? Peaceful?
• The Intention: Silently or softly articulate a simple intention for your day. For example:
  • "Today, I want to be fully present in my interactions."
  • "Today, I want to bring a spirit of calm to whatever comes my way."
  • "Today, I want to listen with a whole heart."
  • "Today, I want to approach my tasks with clear focus, like a Kohen in the Temple."
• Why: Just as the ancient Kohen prepared himself for sacred service, this step helps you mentally and spiritually prepare for the "sacred service" of your day. It’s about setting a mindful tone and inviting an inner state of "wholeness" that will guide your actions. It's an active choice to show up for your life with intention, rather than just reacting to circumstances. This proactive intention-setting helps you embody the spirit of shleimut (wholeness) that was so central to the Mishnah's discussion, translating it from a physical ideal to a spiritual and mental one.

Step 2: Moment of "Cleansing" (30 seconds, as needed)

• When: Whenever you feel yourself becoming "blemished" by inner distractions – anger, frustration, overwhelm, a scattered mind, or even just feeling rushed and not truly "there." This might be before an important conversation, before starting a significant task, or when you feel your patience wearing thin.
• How: Stop what you're doing for a brief moment. Close your eyes if comfortable, or simply soften your gaze. Take a few deep breaths. As you inhale, imagine drawing in clarity and calm. As you exhale, visualize "washing away" or releasing the inner "blemishes" – the distraction, the anger, the hurriedness, the self-doubt. You're not judging yourself for having these feelings; you're simply acknowledging them and choosing to gently release them, creating space for greater presence.
• The Affirmation: You might silently say: "I release what distracts me. I choose presence."
• Why: The Mishnah’s discussion of disqualifying "blemishes," even internal ones like being "drunk," highlights the need for a clear and focused state for sacred service. This "cleansing" step is your modern equivalent of preparing yourself to be an unblemished vessel. It’s a mini-reset button, allowing you to return to your intention with greater clarity. Just as a Kohen couldn't perform service while intoxicated, we can't truly serve or connect when our minds are "intoxicated" by negativity or distraction. This practice helps us consciously sober up and re-center, bringing us closer to the ideal of inner integrity and readiness.

Step 3: "Wholeness" Check-in (15 seconds)

• When: Before a significant interaction (like a call with a loved one, a meeting at work), a moment of prayer or meditation, or when you’re about to engage in an important task.
• How: Before you begin, pause. Take a single, mindful breath.
• The Question: Gently ask yourself: "Am I bringing my whole self to this right now?"
  • Am I truly present for this conversation, or am I thinking about my to-do list?
  • Am I fully engaged in this prayer, or am I half-hearted?
  • Am I approaching this task with integrity, or am I cutting corners?
• The Adjustment (if needed): If the answer isn't a clear "yes," don't judge yourself! Just gently re-center your attention. Take another breath, remind yourself of your morning intention, and consciously choose to bring more of your awareness to the present moment. Even a tiny shift makes a difference.
• Why: This step directly applies the concept of shleimut (wholeness) to your daily actions. The ancient Kohen had to be physically "whole" for his very specific role. For us, spiritual and emotional wholeness means being fully present and authentic in our engagements. This check-in helps you bridge the gap between intention and action, ensuring that your "service" – whether it's to God, to others, or to yourself – is imbued with your fullest, most dedicated presence. It's about consciously striving to embody the "unblemished" ideal, not in a rigid way, but as a path to deeper connection and more meaningful living.

This "Inner Kohen Check-Up" is a gentle yet powerful way to integrate the wisdom of Mishnah Bekhorot into your daily life. It’s not about achieving perfect spiritual performance every single second, which is an impossible standard! Rather, it’s about cultivating awareness, setting intentions, and gently redirecting ourselves towards greater presence and dedication, transforming ordinary moments into acts of sacred service. Try it this week and see what shifts for you!

Chevruta Mini

A Chevruta (pronounced hev-ROO-tah) means a learning partner. It's a wonderful Jewish tradition to learn with a friend, because we often discover new insights when we bounce ideas off each other. Grab a friend, a family member, or even just reflect on these questions yourself!

Q1: Inner Blemishes

The Mishnah discusses many physical "blemishes" that would prevent a Kohen from serving in the Temple. If you were writing a "Mishnah for Modern Life," what would you consider an "inner blemish" – a mental, emotional, or spiritual state – that might prevent someone from truly being present or effective in their "sacred service" today? By "sacred service," I mean things like genuinely helping a friend, truly listening to a loved one, engaging deeply in prayer or meditation, or even bringing your best self to your work.

• Think beyond just "bad traits." Consider states like chronic distraction, overwhelming cynicism, debilitating self-doubt, an inflated ego, persistent anxiety, or unresolved anger. How do these internal states impact your ability to show up fully and effectively for others or for your spiritual practices?
• What happens when we try to "serve" (e.g., offer advice, comfort, or even just our presence) while carrying one of these inner blemishes? How might it affect the outcome or the quality of our connection?
• If we identify one of these "inner blemishes" within ourselves, what small, doable step could we take this week to begin to "address" or "heal" it, so we can bring a more "whole" self to our daily interactions? For example, if distraction is an issue, maybe setting aside a specific distraction-free time.

Q2: Defining Wholeness

The ancient Temple required a Kohen to be physically "whole" and unblemished for a very specific, symbolic ritual role. Obviously, in our world today, physical perfection is not a prerequisite for spiritual connection or service, and we celebrate diversity in all forms. So, what does "wholeness" mean to you in a spiritual or emotional sense today?

• What does it look like to feel spiritually or emotionally "whole" in your own life? Is it inner peace, a sense of integrity, authenticity in your relationships, resilience in the face of challenges, or a deep connection to something larger than yourself?
• How do you strive for this kind of "wholeness" in your own life, knowing that we are all imperfect beings on a journey? What practices or attitudes help you feel more complete, present, and aligned with your values?
• Can someone be "whole" even if they are struggling with mental health challenges, physical limitations, or difficult life circumstances? How do we balance the idea of striving for inner wholeness with radical self-acceptance and compassion for our current state?

Takeaway

Remember this: The ancient pursuit of physical wholeness for sacred Temple service reminds us to strive for inner presence and dedication in all our acts of holiness today.