The kippah and the cart - The Jewish Standard

Many of us have academic interests that span literature, history, and science. For me, I have long been fascinated by the history of the kippah, the traditional Jewish head covering worn by men. Around the time of my bar mitzvah I began wearing a kippah not only in my Jewish day school but also in public. I even continued wearing it when I attended my local public high school — I was one of only two students who did so.

While I was always interested in the practice, I did not have the opportunity to truly explore its history until I attended List College, the undergraduate program of the Jewish Theological Seminary, where I wrote my senior thesis on the topic under the guidance of Rabbi Eliezer Diamond z”l. Rabbi Diamond explained to me that to understand the role of the kippah, one must begin with the earliest references to male head covering — which appear in this week’s Torah portion.

In Parashat Tetzaveh we learn about the garments worn by the kohanim, the priests. The Torah mentions head coverings only in connection with these priestly garments: the ordinary priests wore a migba’at, while the High Priest wore a mitznefet (Exodus 28:4, 37, 40). The Torah does not explain the meaning of most of the garments, but it does describe them collectively as made l’khavod u’letiferet — for dignity and adornment (Exodus 28:2, 40).

This phrase is striking. The kohanim are not crowned for power; they are dressed in a way that reflects standing before God. The head covering, then, is not a symbol of authority but of awareness — a visible reminder that there is something above us. Later rabbinic literature expands the practice into a marker of Jewish identity and piety, but its origins emerge from a different place. The sources in this parashah suggest that covering the head began as an expression of humility: placing something above the head symbolizes living with the awareness that we ourselves are not the highest point in the room — the Divine is.

Living with that awareness should shape behavior. Wearing a head covering is meant to guide a person toward actions that bring honor to God and dignity to the Jewish people.

One of my favorite illustrations of this idea is the “shopping cart theory.” Imagine a man leaving the supermarket wearing a kippah. He loads his groceries into the trunk and notices the cart return is far away. It’s late. No one is around. He could leave the cart and drive away in seconds. For a moment he almost does — until he notices his kippah reflected in the car window.

Suddenly the decision feels different. He is no longer just a private individual making a private choice. Whether anyone sees him or not, he represents something larger — a people, a tradition, a way of living in the world. If he leaves the cart, someone else carries his inconvenience. If he returns it, he carries his responsibility. He walks the cart back across the lot and clicks it into place. No one thanks him. No one even sees him. But that is precisely the point. The kippah did not make him act properly because others were watching. It reminded him that he was — and that God is.

And yet, I have to admit — I feel embarrassed when leaving a kosher supermarket and seeing carts scattered across the parking lot, blocking spaces and walkways. We, of all people, should be setting the example in small acts of responsibility and consideration. Of course, there are times when someone genuinely cannot return a cart, and that is understandable. But as a general rule, this small act can improve the world and reflect the holiness with which we are meant to live — mindful not only of ourselves, but of others.

This idea is not only about men or about head coverings. It is about all of us. The priestly garments placed the kohanim in the mindset of holiness, and in a sense we all wear a kind of spiritual uniform. When we step outside as Jews, our actions reflect not only ourselves but something greater. Our behavior matters — especially when we visibly identify as Jews among our neighbors.

If we are to truly be a light unto the nations, as envisioned by the prophet Isaiah, this week’s Torah portion reminds us that it is not the clothes that make the person, but the person that gives meaning to the clothes. Our task is to live in a way that brings dignity — kavod u’letifaret — to God, to our people, and to the world around us. And the next time you are in a parking lot — if you can do so safely — remember to return your shopping cart.

Opinion

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