Our Gemara on Amud Beis discusses a procedural dilemma: We have learned the rule that a garment that has blood of a sin offering sprayed on it must be laundered in the Temple courtyard. What do we do if the garment left the premises and became impure? On the one hand, it is forbidden to bring an impure vessel into the courtyard; on the other hand, there is a directive to cleanse the blood from the garment only in the Temple courtyard. The resolution is that the garment is torn to a degree that it is no longer considered of utility, and thus the impurity disbands, as impurity is only contained in a functional vessel. The remnant is then brought into the courtyard to complete the laundering.


Sefer Daf al Daf brings down a question regarding the necessity of this procedure. Since we have a rule that a positive commandment overrides a negative, why do we not simply say that the directive to cleanse the garment overrides the prohibition of bringing an impure object into the courtyard? He answers based on a teaching later on 97b: In the Beis HaMikdash, the ordinary rule does not apply. In fact, the opposite is true, and a positive commandment does not override a negative commandment in the Temple.


Why is this so? First we must understand the original principle. Why do we ordinarily rule that a positive commandment overrides a negative? In a logical sense, would taking vitamins supersede avoiding smoking? Why would action be more important than staying away from something forbidden?


The Meshech Chochma (Devarim 34:12) uses a foundational Ramban from Parashas Yisro to explain. The Ramban says true disobedience is more severe than passive inaction, and so violating a prohibition is more severe than simply not obeying a positive commandment. However, that is when the action or inaction arises from the person’s choosing. On the other hand, if God commands—be it a prohibition or an action—both have a different gravity. And since the action is a positive act of love, and it also is a directive from God, it should rightfully supersede the prohibition. When one looks at it from that perspective, since both are commands, one represents love, and the other represents fear; the love is much more powerful and significant. For example, in a human relationship, even if a person abides by various standards of respect—such as not criticizing, not being dishonest, etc.—without the positive actions of saying and doing loving things, it would be empty. If a spouse forgets an anniversary or birthday, and the other spouse feels hurt and neglected, it would not be much of a comfort to say, “Did I ever cheat on you? Did I ever mistreat you?”


Meshech Chochma then applies this to the Beis HaMikdash. Such a location is already imbued with an intense sense of love for God, with open miracles and the Shekhina, so that aspect does not need to be reinforced. Instead there must be a reigning in of the impulse of love, emphasizing fear and boundaries so that there isn’t an irrational exuberance. That is why specifically in the Beis HaMikdash, where one can get carried away, giving more weight to fear and prohibitions is appropriate.


There is a common pattern in religious devotion where there is ongoing dynamic tension between ecstatic emotional responses and measured, boundaried processes. The sons of Aaron (Vayikra 10:1) who brought a “strange fire,” or the elders (Shemos 24:11; see Rashi and Midrash) who became too comfortable in their rejoicing before the Shekhina, are examples where it went too far. However, we also have examples in the opposite direction, such as King David dancing in an ecstatic frenzy before the Aron Kodesh and being criticized by Michal, though vindicated by the flow of the narrative. In that case, joy and exuberance were in the correct measure, though to Michal it did not appear so (II Shmuel 6:16). It is important to recognize that certain religious sentiments and actions are not black and white, wrong or right. Instead they are part of an ongoing dynamic tension that requires a balance of competing tendencies—such as fear of God versus love of God, or divine mercy versus divine justice, or the need for spontaneous unstructured eruptions of religious passion versus consistent, steady, and disciplined practices.