Abstract
This study examines the ritual significance of priestly garment changes during ash removal (Leviticus 6:3-4), arguing this represents ritual transformation rather than practical necessity. Drawing on Mary Douglas’s theory of ritual boundaries and Susanne Langer’s analysis of symbolic forms, it demonstrates how white linen garments and black ashes create meaningful ritual symbolism. Through archaeological evidence, comparative Near Eastern practices, and theoretical approaches to colour symbolism, this study addresses overlooked aspects: the timing of clothing change marks sacrifice completion rather than preparation; the visual contrast between white and black creates “chromatic theology”; and linen’s material properties contribute to ritual efficacy. While modern interpreters view ash removal as practical, this analysis reveals its integral role in completing sacrificial transformation, supported by Mishnaic interpretations and contemporary ritual theory. The findings illuminate how material elements and visual symbolism function in priestly ritual, suggesting garment changes actively create ritual meaning.
Keywords
Introduction
With regard to the garments of the priest, the high priest’s ephod is a subject of much interest for its symbolism and role, 1 but the linen vestments are not. It is only natural that scholars would not have much interest in linen clothes, since they are simply neat, basic attire for kings or priests, who are considered sacred in ancient Near Eastern contexts. In Leviticus 6, however, regarding the regulation concerning the removal of ashes from the altar, the linen vestments result in a rather awkward scene in relation to the priest’s need to change clothes.
וְלָבַ֨שׁ הַכֹּהֵ֜ן מִדּ֣וֹ בַ֗ד וּמִֽכְנְסֵי־בַד֮ יִלְבַּ֣שׁ עַל־בְּשָׂרוֹ֒ וְהֵרִ֣ים אֶת־הַדֶּ֗שֶׁן אֲשֶׁ֨ר תֹּאכַ֥ל הָאֵ֛שׁ אֶת־הָעֹלָ֖ה עַל־הַמִּזְבֵּ֑חַ וְשָׂמ֕וֹ אֵ֖צֶל הַמִּזְבֵּֽחַ׃ וּפָשַׁט֙ אֶת־בְּגָדָ֔יו וְלָבַ֖שׁ בְּגָדִ֣ים אֲחֵרִ֑ים וְהוֹצִ֤יא אֶת־הַדֶּ֙שֶׁן֙ אֶל־מִח֣וּץ לַֽמַּחֲנֶ֔ה אֶל־מָק֖וֹם טָהֽוֹר׃ (Lev. 6:3–4)
2
In a midrashic interpretation, Rabbi Ishmael reads these verses metaphorically as follows: ‘the garments worn while cooking for a master should not be worn when serving the master with a cup of wine at his table’ (Ein Yaakov, Shabbat 15:3). My question arises from the following observation: he seems to have overlooked that the process of removing the ashes from the altar, in which burned wood, meat, and suet are mixed, would rather soil the clothes. In other words, the timing of changing clothes is questionable in terms of both the propriety of the ceremony and for practical reasons. Even modern interpreters who have particular interest in this ‘ritualistic’ procedure have noted both hermeneutical and ritualistic inconsistencies. Some regard the ashes as holy (Kaiser, 3 Hess 4 ), while others think that, unlike the most holy sacrificial offerings, the ‘ashes’ are common (Kleinig 5 ) or no longer possess any transferable ‘holiness’ (Milgrom 6 , Rendtorff 7 ); some think that any contact from lay people to בָּד causes its defilement (Tidball 8 ), while others think that such contact sanctifies them (Milgrom, 9 Qumranites 10 ); and some regard the moving of the ashes as a rite (Mishna), while others consider it no more than a simple sweeping act to prepare for the next day’s ritual and maintain the fire on the altar (Lev 6:5[12]) (Wenham, 11 Gorman, 12 Rendtorff 13 ).
It is not possible to address all the above issues here; therefore, this paper focuses on whether the symbolism that relates linen vestments to the act of removing the ashes is intentional. Some scholars have argued that the priestly regulations concerning the appearance of linen were made after the settlement of Israel, when flax cultivation became possible. 14 However, our interest is not in the historicity of the text; rather, it is in the theological implications of this priestly garment and its changing during this ‘ritual’. To clarify, this study examines the ritual significance of priestly garment changes during the removal of sacrificial ashes (Leviticus 6:3[10]-4[11]), arguing that this practice represents more than mere practical necessity. Drawing on Mary Douglas’s theory of ritual boundaries and Susanne Langer’s framework of symbolic transformation, this analysis demonstrates how the interaction between white linen garments and black ashes creates meaningful ritual symbolism. 15 Through examination of archaeological evidence, comparative Near Eastern practices, and theoretical approaches to colour symbolism, this study suggests that the changing of priestly garments marks a crucial transition point in sacrificial ritual, symbolically completing the transformation of sacrifice into divine acceptance.
The Meaning of the Wearing of Linen Vestments while Removing the Ashes
When going up to the altar to remove the ashes, it is mandatory to wear linen vestments to cover the lower body, as can be seen in Exodus 20:26, 28:42–43. Wenham observes that the ashes had to be removed in the morning simply for clean-up purposes and that this task could be performed even by priests who had not been involved in the previous day’s sacrifice. 16 The linen vestments are required merely in obedience to the rules laid out in Exodus; the priests are working in the tabernacle (v. 4 [11]) and their garments served to distinguish sacred from non-sacred places (cf. Lev. 10:10). 17 But is the removal of the ashes merely a cleaning task that the priests have to do every morning? In other words, is there no consideration of the task as the first ritual of the day (or, perhaps, the final ceremony of the previous day’s sacrifice) in this context? Considering the situation of those who were waiting to participate in the following day’s sacrifice, does this first task of the priests have any theological, instructive, or educational implications? 18
The Mishna interprets the act of moving the ashes as a ritual. ‘This meaning of the verb is reflected in the postbiblical term terumat ha-desben, “the removal of the ashes”, a ritual described in Mishnah Tamid 1:2–2:2, as it was practiced in Second Temple times to which the fire has reduced the burnt offering’. 19 Baruck Levine points out that the Hebrew verb הֵרִים in Leviticus 6:3[10], used for moving ashes from the altar, often means ‘to take away, remove’, while this word is used in Leviticus 2:9 when the priest ‘takes’ from the grain offering its memorial portion, so that it may be burned on the altar. 20 As such, in the Talmudic tradition (b. Yoma 22a), the priest lays aside a small amount of ashes for the next day to ensure continuity in the sacrifices.
Milgrom refutes the Mishnaic interpretation of the removal of the ashes as a ‘rite’ (Mishnah Tamid 1:2). He argues that the use of linen clothing was simply for practical reasons. The altar is eo ipso a sacred place; therefore, after laying down the ashes, the linen clothing was changed. 21 The changing of clothes is interpreted as a prohibition against the wearing of holy, priestly garments outside the tabernacle, in the profane world where people would be sanctified by the clothes. 22 Milgrom connects this interpretation with Ezekiel 44:19 (‘When they go out into the outer court to the people, they shall remove the vestments in which they have been ministering, and lay them in the holy chambers; and they shall put on other garments, so that they may not communicate holiness to the people with their vestments.’ [NRSV]) and fragmentary Qumranic interpretations found in 11QT 40:1–4. Similarly, Kiuchi has observed that ‘when they [the priests] take the ashes away from the altar outside the camp, they must change their clothes to prevent the defilement of their holy garments’. 23 Rendtorff makes the similar argument that the clothes were changed due to differences in degrees of sanctity, although he notes that the idea in Ezekiel 44:19 is not found in the Pentateuch: ‘Eine solche Formulierung findet sich in den priesterlichen Pentateuchtexten nicht; der Wechsel der Kleidung hängt aber unmittelbar mit den verschiedenen Graden der Heiligkeit innerhalb des Tempelbezirks zusammen.’ 24
However, most scholars do not pay much attention to the ceremonial meaning of the changing of clothing itself in relation to carrying ashes, but some have provided helpful insight into this topic. Hartley is among those who do not have much concern about this issue, yet he has called attention to the well-known idea that Hebrew priestly attire contrasts with that of certain ancient Near Eastern cultic practices; it is not unusual to find, for example, that nudity is admired in certain such ceremonies. Hartley explains that ‘the purpose of this standard is to eliminate the possibility of any use of human sexual powers as a way of approaching God or as a means of influencing the divine realm magically’; like Milgrom and Kiuchi, he associates the reason for this change of clothing with the sanctity of the tabernacle. 25 Conversely, Hess focuses more on the sanctity of wearing the linen, similar to Balentine’s remark about ‘priests as custodians of holiness’: 26 ‘Once the priest has removed the ashes from the altar, he need not wear linen clothes, for he has moved away from that special holy place. Indeed, the priest dare not wear the linen garments because they remain special for those close to the holy things’. 27 While Rooker and Gane argue that the meaning of the ritual of moving the ashes is that the sacrifice is dedicated entirely to God, 28 Andrew Bonar suggests that the reason for the change of clothing is that ‘these linen garments are now reckoned polluted’, but this view is difficult to accept. 29
Harrison provides an interesting observation that highlights the ritualistic nature of moving ashes. He assumes that the priest who performed the sacrifice on the previous day is also in charge of moving the ashes the day after the sacrifice, explaining the whole process as follows: ‘his ministry on one and the same occasion could range from the emptying of altar ashes to the declaration that atonement had been made’. 30 His first rationale for this explanation is that the moving of the ashes is done by the priest, not the Levite or a layperson who attended the sacrifice. His second rationale is significant: ‘for this work this same man had to be attired in a different form of dress from that worn in the holy place’. 31 Harrison does not elaborate further on this reason, but it is worth noting that he is the only one who pays particular attention to the ritual (or theological) meaning of changing clothes. His observation is also in line with that of Hess, who points out that the ashes left after a sacrifice are also holy, as shown in 4:12, 21. Hess also explains that the reason for moving the ashes outside of the camp is due to the amount of them that accumulates over the generations. Even ashes such as these must not touch the unclean, so a clean place outside the camp is an option that meets these criteria. 32
From the foregoing observations, specific questions are to be discussed as to whether the priest’s wearing of linen vestments while moving the ashes from the altar is considered as a rite:
1) whether it is forbidden to wear these linen clothes outside the tabernacle; and
2) whether it is acceptable to wear profane clothing in the tabernacle. In particular, this issue concerns the interpretation of Exodus 28:43.
In regards to the first of these in Leviticus, there are the rules for linen clothing. They are codified in regulations that ‘one must wash themselves when wearing linen clothes and must wear them when they come before Yahweh in the sanctuary’. It is obvious that there is no logical equivalent of this regulation and its converse phrase, that ‘linen clothing must be worn only in the temple’. If there is a rule that linen clothes must not be worn outside the tabernacle, it can be understood easily, but there is no explicit rule related to it in the Bible.
For example, Hess says that linen appears only in cultic circumstances, but one of the passages he does not cite, the mention of priestly clothing in 1 Samuel 22:18, renders Hess’s claim somewhat unclear. 33 In this verse, the priests in the city of Nob were wearing linen ephods (אֵפוֹד בָּד). Given the nuance of the use of ‘those in linen’ as a term to characterise the priests in this text, it causes me to wonder whether the priests used to wear linen even in situations other than the ritual background. Furthermore, 2 Chronicles 5:11 records the priests coming out of the sanctuary, and in a later context (vv. 12–14) mentions that they were clothed in linen. In 2 Chronicles 15:27, the incident of bringing in the ark of the covenant, the Levites were wearing linen vestments. Since this context is related to the ark of the covenant, it is natural to wear linen clothes, but it may be one of the examples urged as proof that they are not limited to the spatial background of the temple.
In regards to the second given that the entire tabernacle is a consecrated place, if we understand the priest’s linen clothes from the perspective of the distinction between holy and profane, this explains the act of wearing clothes other than priestly vestments while inside the tabernacle gates. If we follow this view – that is, if we consider the priest’s linen garments as sacred garments worn in a sacred place – the priests would not change their clothes after piling up the ashes from the altar beside the altar but would only put on profane garments after bringing the ashes to the tabernacle gate, just before leaving the tabernacle. Given the proximity of the altar to the gate (Exo 40:6), this was likely not the case; however, we should consider that the text refers to the side of the altar (אֵצֶל הַמִּזְבֵּחַ, Lev. 6:3) rather than the gate.
Moreover, considered from a practical viewpoint, it is even more awkward. If it’s not a ritual, why wear bright priestly vestments when removing the blackened, dirty ashes? Some argue that the etiquette involving sweatiness stipulated that breathable linen clothing was compulsory. Indeed, linen helps prevent perspiration (Ezek. 44:18). Rooker links this to Leviticus 6:3[10]–4[11] and interprets this provision as a requirement that the priests must not sweat, in order to prevent sweating in the process of moving the ashes. 34 The foregoing point reminds us that changing clothes is not simply a justification for a ban on going out of the tabernacle in holy clothing, as Milgrom has argued.
The Symbolism of Wearing Linen and Changing Priestly Clothing
The analysis of priestly garment changes in Leviticus 6:3[10]-4[11] requires a theoretical framework that can account for both the material and symbolic dimensions of ritual practice. Mary Douglas’s work on ritual boundaries provides crucial insights into how physical actions and material objects create meaningful distinctions in ritual contexts. 35 As Douglas argues, ritual clothing serves not merely practical purposes but actively constructs sacred space and time through its use and transformation. 36 The priest’s changing of garments thus can be understood as what Douglas terms a ‘boundary-marking practice’, physically enacting the transition between different ritual states. 37
Susanne Langer’s theory of symbolic forms further illuminates how visual and material elements in ritual create meaning through what she terms ‘presentational symbolism.’ 38 Unlike discursive symbols (such as words), presentational symbols work through immediate, sensory perception to create meaning. 39
The material aspects of priestly garments must be understood within broader patterns of ancient Near Eastern ritual practice. The choice of specific materials and colours in ritual contexts reflected deep cultural values and theological understanding. Sinclair’s work on Mesopotamian colour use further shows how the selection of certain raw materials and the technical processes required to achieve a pure white or specific shade were understood to carry inherent ritual efficacy—not just aesthetic appeal. 40 The priest’s action, therefore, is not merely symbolic but a bodily performance (drawing on Embodiment Theory) where the garment acts as a key material agent, physically impressing the ritual significance of the transition onto the participant.
The Ancient Near East and Egypt
As is well known, in ancient Egypt, there existed ‘royal linen, white linen, fine linen’. Egyptian linens were popular at the time; fine linen, especially, was regarded as a royal cloth, and it followed that the royal palace should be supplied with it. 41 In Egypt, linen is to be understood more in terms of royal etiquette than in the sense of religious purity. 42 Even in one of the Sumerian texts, the king is referred to as a ‘linen wearer’. 43 Considering the political and social context of the ancient Near East, where the king was the highest priest, this is an example of linen as a garment worn by the highest class, and it reminds us that the context of the Bible is similar.
It seems that the Babylonians were not satisfied with a simple white linen. One Babylonian text describes linen garments ‘decorated with sewn-on narrow woven bands or tresses made of wool thread in various colors (termed birmu). This typically Syrian technique is often depicted on Egyptian murals and reliefs. The Assyrian kings mention these garments always in their reports on booty or tribute received from Upper Mesopotamia, Syria, and Palestine’. 44 In addition to the royal background, however, linen is also mentioned as important in rituals. 45 For instance, in the temple program for the new year’s festivals in Babylon, the following regulations are mentioned: ‘On the second day of the month Nisannu, two hours of the night (remaining?), the urigallu-pricst shall arise and wash with river water. He shall enter into the presence of the god Bel, and he shall. . . a linen gadalu in front of Bel. He shall recite the following prayer’. 46
Understanding the Hebrew Priestly Attire
אֵפוֹד is derived from אָפַד, the original meaning of which is ‘clothes’. When used alone, it usually refers to a special garment worn over the robe of the high priest. The law forbade weaving with wool and linen (Deut. 22:11), and so the priests were required to wear בַּד (Exod. 28:42–43) made of linen only. The high priest’s garment, אֵפוֹד, was, however, beyond the scope of this law (Exod. 28:4–6). In biblical usage, after the Judges period, ‘white’ אֵפוֹד בָּד appears, which is distinguished from the אֵפוֹד of the high priest, 47 and ‘put on the ephod’ is used metonymically in the sense of ‘to become a priest’ and ‘to perform priestly duties’. Young Samuel also wore a linen ephod (1 Sam. 2:18). In 1 Samuel 22:18, it is recorded that when Doeg the Edomite killed the priests, he was killing the ones wearing the ephod. Also, in Hosea 3:4, אֵין אֵפוֹד is used to mean ‘without a priest’ – that is, living independently without God. When David brought the ark of Yahweh up to the city of David, he wore אֵפוֹד בָּד and danced (2 Sam. 6:14; 1 Chron. 15:27).
In regards to the production of linen, Hoffmeier points out that ‘even though linen may have been imported throughout the OT period, the mention of harvesting flax in the Gezer calendar (ca. 900 BC) as a part of the agricultural cycle suggests that linen was widely in use in Israel throughout the OT period’. 48 Recently, Holger Gzella has compared bad, which is domestically made linen priestly garments of ancient Israel, and šeš, which is imported linen from Egypt:
Bad (Exod. 28:42; 39:29; Lev 6:3; 16:4, 23, 32; 1 Sam. 2:18; 22:18; 2 Sam. 6:14; Ezek. 9:2–3, 11; 10:2, 6–7; Dan. 10:5; 12:6–7; 1 Chron. 15:27) is perhaps a lesser-quality linen than šeš but was exclusively used for the garments of the (high) priest. Maybe bad was Palestinian linen, while šeš was imported from Egypt. Anyway, both words are substantively identical, but the text using bad and šeš for the garments of the high priest are likely to come from different periods. Maybe the imported materials were not available during specific times.
49
One aspect of bad is that it would enable Israel to maintain a certain political distance from Egypt, considering that linens are luxury items in addition to being consecrated; nonetheless, in Israelite practice, the priests were required to wear linen vestments in order to cover their nakedness. In Leviticus 6:3[10]–4[11], the religious vestments were to be worn as it were within the confines of the sanctuary (Exod. 28:43). In some ancient Near Eastern religions, the cleric performed certain ceremonies within the sanctuary while naked, but in Israel this was considered an insult to Yahweh (Exod. 20:26; 28:42–43).
Rabbinic Interpretation of Priestly Garments
Regarding the interpretation of ופשט את בגדיו (‘and he shall put off his garments’), Rashi remarks on the ‘problem of soiling of clothes’ overlooked by modern commentators:
This is not compulsory but it is a matter of decency so that he should not, through removing the ashes, soil the garments in which he has regularly to minister at the altar; in the clothes he wore when he boiled the pot for his master (a menial task) he should not pour out a glass of wine for him (an honourable office). On this account it states: And he shall put on other garments — inferior to those in which he ministers at the altar (Yoma 23b; Shabbat 114a).
50
Agreeing in part with Rashi’s interpretation, Ramban, with others, interprets בְּגָדִים אֲחֵרִים (Lev. 6:4[11]) as not needing to be priestly garments:
All this is in accordance with this reasoning which the Rabbi [Rashi] wrote [i.e., that the removal of the ashes must be done in priestly garments]. But there are some of our Rabbis mentioned there in Tractate Yoma who say that the taking out of the ashes did not have to be done in priestly garments. Thus the verse stating, and he shall put on other garments means ‘ordinary clothes’, and this is also the plain meaning of the verse, commanding the priest that he should not soil the linen garments, which are the holy garments, with the taking out of the ashes; instead he is to put on ordinary clothes.
51
Naturally, Rashi and Ramban agree that, according to Torah regulations, moving ashes from the altar must be done while wearing proper priestly garments; however, the precise time of the change and the type of clothing at that time in Leviticus 6:4[11] are not interpreted unambiguously, as the two Rabbis disagree. Rashi understands בְּגָדִים אֲחֵרִים in this verse to be an inferior priestly garment, while others hold the view that it is acceptable to wear casual clothes. At the same time, considering that the priest's garment, בָּד, appears in the singular, it would be appropriate to interpret בְּגָדִים אֲחֵרִים as casual attire.
Nevertheless, the question is that, if we follow their views, especially that of Rashi, it is still unclear as to why the priest changes his garment in the context of verse 4[11]. Rather, isn’t it appropriate to wear an inferior priestly garment when taking ashes down from the altar in verse 3[10], and to reserve a superior garment for a more important task? Wouldn't there be another purpose for moving the ashes away from the altar while wearing linen clothes in a situation in which the sacrifice has been completed?
The Colour Symbolism of the Priestly Linen
As we observe above, most scholars have argued that to preserve the sanctity of linen vestments, changing clothes is mandatory. 52 The fact that priests wore linen clothing outside is not only found in other biblical texts, however; it is also difficult to find the concept that the holiness of the linen cloth is compromised when the wearer goes outside the sacred place. This is because it is a logical fallacy to develop the concept of ‘linen cloth for use in holy places’ in reverse. Moreover, as we have seen above, such a concept is difficult to find in Rabbinic interpretation.
As Angelika Berlejung has noted, if ‘clothing had and conveyed power and impact’, is the change of clothing within the temple merely an act of pragmatic purpose with no theological/cultic significance? 53 George Knight is practically the only scholar to offer a theological meaning of the change, but even that is unclear: ‘The special garment of the priest was meant to impress upon the worshipper the awesomeness of God’s presence, though that could only be rendered symbolically. The priest actually changed his vestments twice over during the course of the offering he was presenting to God’. 54 Knight doesn’t explain further, but could the change have a ceremonial/theological significance in itself?
The visual contrast between white garments and black ashes, viewed through Langer’s framework, creates a ‘symbolic transformation’ that makes visible the completion of sacrificial offering. 55 This visual symbolism operates on multiple levels within ancient Near Eastern ritual contexts and Israelite theological understanding.
Shiyanthi Thavapalan argues that Akkadian colour concepts are governed by brightness rather than hue, with terms such as namru (“brilliant”) indicating luminosity and positive value. 56 Elena Cassin likewise noted that the symbolic meaning of Mesopotamian colour terms emphasizes luminosity and brightness. 57 The efficacy of the linen is thus tied not merely to its hue, but its material quality—its capacity to be luminous and reflect light. 58 This means the priest, in his linen (bad) garments, is ritually clothed in radiance for the final sacred task.
Colour Symbolism in Ancient Near Eastern Context
Recent scholarship has demonstrated sophisticated understanding of colour symbolism in ancient Mesopotamian ritual contexts. Thavapalan’s comprehensive study shows that white, particularly in textile form, consistently symbolized divine presence and ritual purity across various cultural contexts. 59 This symbolism was not merely conventional but was understood to derive from the material properties of the substances themselves. The laborious technical processes of creating white linen—through careful preparation and bleaching—were themselves understood as transformative acts that created ritual significance, ultimately enhancing the material’s capacity to represent radiance and divine purity.
The significance of white garments in ritual contexts extends beyond Mesopotamia. In an ancient Egyptian song sung in the context of the accession of Ramses IV recorded in an ostracon in the Turin Museum (probably of the reign of Ramses IV), linen and its whiteness are linked in parallelism: ‘They who were naked are clothed in fine linen; they who were dirty are clad in white’. 60 In one of the Babylonian texts found in Harran in 1906 and 1956, ‘The mother of nabonidus’ stelae, white linen is mentioned as the garment worn by Nabonidus’ mother when she died. 61 This Egyptian practice of priests wearing white linen while handling ritual objects provides important parallel evidence for understanding the Israelite practice. 62
The Symbolism of Contrast
The juxtaposition of the priest’s brilliant white garments with the matte, dull black ashes (the final, burnt remains of the offering) creates what Taussig terms a ‘chromatic theology’—a system of meaning created through colour relationships. 63 This contrast should be viewed not as a simple moral opposition (e.g., purity vs. sin) but as a functional opposition between Radiance (the divine sphere embodied by the linen) and Dullness (the finality of the earthly sacrificial act). This visual symbolism builds on Douglas’s observation that ritual often works through binary oppositions to create meaning. 64
Following Langer’s theory of symbolic forms, this visual contrast should be understood as actively creating meaning through ‘presentational symbolism,’ making the transition from fire to completion immediately perceptible. 65 The visual experience of seeing white-clad priests handle black ashes creates immediate, non-discursive understanding of ritual transformation. 66
Material and Theological Implications
From a historical anthropological perspective on ancient Near Eastern societies, the study of material-based colour terms suggests that the ‘physical properties of materials’ such as textiles contributed to their ritual significance. 67 The understanding that material properties possessed inherent ritual efficacy in the ancient Near East is significant, and the way linen maintained its whiteness and resisted contamination would have reinforced its association with purity. The way linen holds its white colour and resists staining would have reinforced its associations with purity and divine service.
When we consider the biblical symbolism of white and darkness discussed earlier, the choice of white linen for this specific ritual task would have been understood within a broader system of material symbolism. 68 The contrast between the permanent whiteness of the linen and the temporary blackness of the ashes creates what Sonik terms a ‘meaningful opposition’ that reinforces the ritual’s transformative purpose. 69
Integration with Biblical Symbolism
Kaiser, noting the sacredness of the ashes, says on the basis of Ezekiel 44:17, 19 that ‘the ashes are deposited beside the altar until the priest once again completely changes his garments, for otherwise the people might be sanctified’; 70 however, these verses merely reveal the priestly common sense that when that which is clean touches what is unclean, the former too becomes unclean.
It is only natural to have to change clothes in order to move the ashes from the altar out of the camp, but the question is its timing. In other words, as explained by Milgrom, the change itself may be for a pragmatic reason: 71 the fact that the point of the change is right after the whole process of atonement has taken place and the ashes are removed from the altar (which is also a symbol of atonement) means that it may be intentional. In other words, the entire process of the ritual is finished by moving the ashes from the altar. This can mean that the sacrifice is complete only when the sacrifice, which has been completely burned, is completely removed from the altar. Rabbi Hirsch makes a similar point about this issue:
This act of תרומת הדשן does not belong to the preparation of the Altar for the service of the new day just beginning, this is done by the הוצאת הדשן prescribed in the next verse. תרומת הדשן is rather to be considered as the final conclusion of the service of the preceding day.
72
If the change of clothes is due to the holiness of the temple, it would be natural to move the ashes to its gate at once. However, the focus of the text is on moving the ashes down to the side of the altar.
We must not conclude hastily that the symbolism, by which current-day people may think of the contrast of good and evil in terms of the contrast of black and white, would have been the same in the thoughts of the ancient Israelites. The fact that similar expressions are found in other contexts of the Hebrew Bible, however, reveals the possibility that the text may attribute a symbolism to the colour white, even if it is not completely consistent with our understanding. In Isaiah 1:18, for example, the concept that ‘even though sin is red as scarlet, it becomes as white as snow’ differs from the modern conception of sin and evil as black; however, this text shows that the purity of the sin can be symbolised by white.
Snow is also an expression of God’s wondrous power and reign in the Bible (Job 37:6; 38:22; Ps. 147:16), but in many cases it also symbolizes white (Exod. 4:6; Num. 12:10; 2 Kings 5:27; Dan. 7:9). Snow also expresses purity (Lam. 4:7) and the condition of the redeemed soul (Ps. 51:7; Isa. 1:18). It seems clear from the biblical example cited above that whiteness is connected with righteousness and purity. Although it is not possible to confirm completely whether the linen clothes were entirely white, as seen in Egyptian and ancient Near Eastern literature, they must have conveyed the image of whiteness sufficiently to the people of the time.
Unlike the biblical symbolism of the colour white, it is not clear whether the image of the black ashes symbolises sin. The most vivid biblical image that can be considered in relation to black is darkness, which appears pre-creation, in Genesis. ‘The earth was formless and empty, and darkness was over the deep, and the Spirit of God was moving over the waters. And God said, “Let there be light”. And there was light, and God saw that it was good. He called the darkness night’ (Gen. 1:2–5). This refers to complete darkness, without any light, as light was yet to be created. Before the dawn of light, the world was without order, in darkness and chaos. Darkness is also described as the world of the dead, where the wicked will be at the final judgement. ‘For the earth is dark and like darkness, and the shadow of death has no distinction, and the light is like darkness’ (Job 10:22). ‘He will silence the wicked in darkness’ (1 Sam. 2:9). It would be difficult to adopt these texts to suggest directly that the black ashes symbolise the sin and darkness of the sacrificer; however, even if the negative nuances conveyed by this black colour were different from current-day understandings, would it have had some effect on the visual image shared to a certain extent among the ancient Israelites?
This focus on the visual contrast between white and black is supported by seminal linguistic research. Brent Berlin and Paul Kay's study of colour terminology across 22 languages reveals a finding particularly relevant to the present investigation: while all examined languages possessed distinct lexical terms for white and black, some notably lacked specific terms for colours like red—a colour ubiquitous in everyday experience. 73 This asymmetry highlights the fundamental and universal primacy of the black/white contrast in human language and cognition, making it highly probable that this basic opposition was intentionally leveraged for ritual meaning in the visual drama of the priest and the ashes.
Conclusion
This study has demonstrated that the changing of priestly garments, בָּד, during the removal of sacrificial ashes represents more than practical necessity. Through analysis of Douglas and Langer and bolstered by recent scholarly work on material efficacy and the ANE conception of purity as radiance, this practice is revealed as a crucial moment of ritual transformation. The timing of the clothing change, occurring after the removal of ashes, creates a ‘liminal moment’ in the ritual process. 74 The material properties of the linen, carrying consistent associations with divine presence and ritual purity across the ancient Near East, actively participate in this transformation. The visual contrast between the radiant white garments and the dull black ashes creates a ‘chromatic theology’ that makes visible the completion of the sacrificial transformation. As Langer’s theory of symbolic forms suggests, the visual and material elements of this ritual – particularly the contrast between white garments and black ashes – create immediate, non-discursive understanding of this transformation.
The material properties of the priest’s linen garments contribute significantly to their ritual meaning. As Thavapalan’s research demonstrates, white linen carried consistent associations with divine presence and ritual purity across various ancient Near Eastern contexts. The contrast between these white garments and the black ashes creates what Taussig terms a ‘chromatic theology’ that makes visible the completion of sacrificial transformation. This visual symbolism would have been particularly meaningful within the ancient Near Eastern context, where, as Gunter shows, material properties were understood to carry inherent ritual efficacy.
The Mishnaic interpretation of ash removal as a ritual, rather than merely practical, action finds support in this analysis. The priest’s wearing of white linen while removing the ashes from the altar, followed by the change of garments, marks what Douglas identifies as a crucial boundary in ritual space and time. 75 This timing suggests that the removal of ashes constitutes the final act of the previous day’s sacrifice rather than preparation for the new day’s ritual.
These findings suggest that greater attention should be paid to the visual and material dimensions of priestly ritual, particularly how changes in clothing and colour create meaningful ritual transformation. As Sonik’s work on Mesopotamian ritual visualization suggests, such visual elements were crucial to the efficacy and understanding of ancient ritual practice.
Footnotes
Funding
The authors disclosed receipt of the following financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article: This work was supported by the Ministry of Education of the Republic of Korea and the National Research Foundation of Korea (NRF-2023S1A5B5A17085421).
