Some things are too sacred to be seen. In Judaism, covering something isn’t about hiding it—it’s about honoring what’s beneath.
Why the Kippah?
One of the first things we teach a young Jewish child—often even before his first haircut—is to wear a kippah, especially when going to synagogue. It’s one of those small but powerful traditions that says, “I’m Jewish.” If you spot someone wearing a kippah from across the street, you can usually guess right away: he’s Jewish.
But here’s something surprising—there’s actually no specific mitzvah to wear a kippah. The requirement is simply to have your head covered. How you do that is up to you. Technically, even a wig would work! The kippah just became the traditional, go-to option.
So why cover your head at all?
Rabbi Shneur Zalman of Liadi explains in his Code of Jewish Law, (Hilchos Birkos HaShachar): for Jews, wearing a belt and a hat isn’t just about fashion or comfort—it’s about meaning. The belt separates the upper and lower parts of the body as a sign of modesty. Covering the head, he says, is about cultivating yiras shamayim—a sense of awe and awareness that there’s something higher than you.
He writes again in another section (Hilchos Hanhogas HaBoker), “One should not walk or even sit with an uncovered head. And children should be trained to keep their heads covered, so that they grow up with fear of heaven.”
In plain terms: covering your head is a physical way to remind yourself that you’re not the center of the universe. There’s something greater, something higher. And that quiet awareness can shape how you carry yourself and how you live.
Under the Tallis
Wearing a kippah isn’t the only time Jews cover themselves.
Take the Birkat Kohanim—the priestly blessing, which takes place during holidays. When the Kohanim (priests) go up to the front of the synagogue to bless the congregation, everyone—men, women, and children—covers their heads, usually with a tallit. Why?
The Alter Rebbe explains in his Shulchan Aruch: when the Kohanim give the blessing, they shouldn’t be looking at the crowd, and the crowd shouldn’t be looking at them. This isn’t a performance. To avoid distractions, many communities adopted the custom of the Kohanim covering their faces and hands, and the congregation covering themselves with their tallitot.
In simple terms: if you’re watching the people instead of thinking about G-d, you’re missing the point. Whether it’s a handsome Kohen or a cute kid, the covering helps everyone stay focused on the moment.
There’s another moment we cover ourselves—or rather, someone else does: the bride at her chuppah. Traditionally, she wears a veil that covers her face. She can’t see out clearly, and no one can see her fully. Over time, many reasons have been offered for this custom. One of the main explanations is modesty—that on her wedding day, the focus isn’t on her appearance, but on the holy commitment she’s about to make.
According to another reason, by placing the veil over her, the groom is symbolically spreading his protection over her, echoing the story of Ruth, who told Boaz, “Spread your cloak over your handmaid”—a poetic way of asking him to marry her and care for her.
Why Cover What’s Holy?
In this week’s parsha, we read how the tribe of Levi was given the responsibility of transporting the Mishkan—the portable Temple the Jews carried through the desert. The tribe was divided into three groups: Gershon, Kehot, and Merari.
Gershon and Merari were in charge of taking the Mishkan apart and loading its structure onto wagons. But Kehot had a more sensitive task: they carried the holy “furniture”—the Ark of the Covenant, the altars, the Menorah, the Table of the Showbread, and the sacred vessels used for the service.
But there was a rule: before the Kehot family could carry these items, the priests had to cover them completely. No one was allowed to look at the Ark itself. The Torah says that anyone who did could die.
Rashi comments (on Genesis 29:34) that the tribe of Levi never grew as large as the others because “the Ark destroyed many of them.” In other words, exposure to something so holy had real consequences. And since Levi’s job was to be close to the Divine Presence, their numbers remained small. They paid a price for that closeness.
What’s the danger in seeing the Ark?
One explanation is psychological: The Ark symbolized G-d’s presence. If you saw it, you might begin to imagine that G-d has a shape or a form. But Judaism insists that G-d is beyond anything physical—no image, no form, no limitations. Looking at the Ark could cause someone to associate G-d with something material. That cheapens our appreciation for G-d.
But there’s another layer.
Covering the Ark—and other sacred objects—teaches us that the most important things in life can’t always be seen. When we cover what represents the Shechinah (Divine Presence), we remind ourselves: there’s more to reality than meets the eye. The holiest parts of life are often hidden. The covering isn’t just protection—it’s a message. What we are looking at is just a cover. There is something unknown beyond the physical.
The Power of Covering Up
All the coverings we’ve talked about—the kippah, the veil at the chuppah, the tallit during the priestly blessing—they all share a deeper purpose.
Why do the Kohanim (priests) cover their hands when they bless the congregation? The Zohar explains: “It is forbidden to gaze at the hands of the Kohen as he blesses, because the Shechinah—G-d’s presence—rests upon them.” In other words, something holy is happening, and it’s not meant to be stared at.
The same is said about the kippah. The Zohar teaches that “a man should not walk even four cubits with his head uncovered, because the Shechinah rests upon it.” The kippah is more than tradition—it’s a sign of respect for the Divine presence hovering above us.
And the bridal veil? Some explain that during the chuppah, the Shechinah shines on the bride’s face. Just as we don’t stare at holiness, we gently cover it.
So what’s the takeaway for us?
The Rebbe once offered a beautiful insight on the verse, “Don’t look at his appearance” (I Samuel 16:7). When you look at another Jew, don’t stop at what’s on the outside. The body is just the packaging. Inside is a neshama—a Jewish soul filled with G-dliness, no matter what it looks like externally.
The world may say, “What you see is what you get.” But when it comes to a Jew, that couldn’t be further from the truth. What you see is only the cover. What’s inside is pure potential.
So before you judge someone, pause. Look past the surface. Holiness often hides beneath the most ordinary layers.
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