They say that clothing makes the man, and jewelry makes the woman. Today’s Torah portion is all about clothing and jewelry. But there is a point to these instructions.

Remember those bands from a few years ago that said WWJD. No, it did not mean as someone suggested, “Worldwide Jewish Domination.” It stood for “What would Jesus Do,” and if you looked at the bracelet on your wrist you might remember what you were supposed to do—be like Jesus, act like G-d. In Latin, Imitatio Deo, imitating G-d.

We have a tradition of imitating G-d too. Sifre Eikev, which we read this morning says,  “To walk in God’s ways” (Deuteronomy 11:22). These are the ways of the Holy One: “gracious and compassionate, patient, abounding in kindness and faithfulness, assuring love for a thousand generations, forgiving iniquity, transgression, and sin, and granting pardon” (Exodus 34:6). This means that just as God is gracious, compassionate, and forgiving, you too must be gracious, compassionate, and forgiving.” The text continues that as G-d clothed the naked, we should clothe the naked. As G-d visited the sick, you should visit the sick. As G-d fed the hungry, you should feed the hungry. As G-d buried the dead, you should bury the dead.” So walking in G-d’s ways is imitating G-d.

We know the expression, “I’ll be there with bells on….”, meaning something like I am excited and pleased to come. I will be there to celebrate, wearing my finest. It first appeared in a F. Scott Fitzgerald novel. But its roots go much deeper. Some say that it is a reference to the bells that teamsters would tie on their horses that were transporting goods. If their wagon broke down, then another teamster would ask for their bells as a reward. Arriving to their destination “with bells on,” was a source of pride. Some say it is a reference to the bells or knobs that were on beds in England. Or it is a reference to the bells on a jester’s costume. Or to the bells that told the time in a naval watch.

There are lots of popular cultural references to bells and faith. In the movie, It’s a Wonderful Life we are told that “Every time a bell rings, an angel gets its wings.” While I don’t think that is true, I love the movie. For George, the bell becomes a reminder to be grateful for his life, his wonderful life. Something he didn’t understand until his guardian angel showed him what the world would be like if he hadn’t been in it, thus earning his wings.

In another Christmas story, Polar Express, a boy, from Grand Rapids no less, has lost his love of Christmas. He is whisked away to the North Pole and because he is a good kid and helps other kids on the train, is given the privilege of receiving the first gift of Christmas from Santa—a bell—, which then falls through the hole in his robe pocket. Santa finds the bells and delivers it all wrapped up. When he opens his gift, he and his sister can hear the bell, but his parents cannot and assume it is broken. Chris Van Allsburg ends the book with  “At one time, most of my friends could hear the bell, but as years passed, it fell silent for all of them. Even Sarah found one Christmas that she could no longer hear its sweet sound. Though I’ve grown old, the bell still rings for me, as it does for all who truly believe.”

So the bell has to do with belief, with faith.

But many say it comes from this week’s Torah portion. The cohanim, the priests, needed to sew gold bells and pomegranate-shaped tassels of blue, purple and scarlet, onto the hems of their robes.

Why? Like the phrase “with bells on” the text does not give us an answer. The pomegranate is easy. Pomegranates grow in Israel, one of the seven species. They have 613 seeds and are a reminder of the commandments.

But the bells. They are more complicated. Some say the bells are so that when the High Priest, the Kohain HaGadol entered the Holy of Holies on Yom Kippur, the sound of the bells would signal that he was still alive. Some say that the sound of the bells chased away danger—noise often does. Some say that they were to summon the presence of the Divine. Some say the bells were a necessity to keep him alive, lest he die.

I think all of the clothing and the jewelry that this portion commands are to remind the cohanim, the priests of how they were to behave. Clothing makes the priest. The names of the twelve tribes were inscribed as a reminder. Each of the jewels on the breastplate was one of the tribes, as a reminder. The Talmud itself teaches something similar. Each of the pieces of clothing reminds the priest to avoid specific sins. The breastplate was to prevent miscarriages of judgment. The me’il, the jacket would prevent gossip, lashon hara, an evil tongue, with those noisy bells, which would drown out the sound of gossip. The three colors of the tassels remind us that there are three people who are injured when lashon hara is spoken—the speaker, the listener and the one who is spoken about. The Ephod would prevent succumbing to idolatry. The tunic, like Jacob’s coat of many colors would remind us against spilling blood in jealousy and murderous rage. The robe, against sins of sexual impropriety, the headdress against arrogant thoughts (BT Zev 88b)

Even the colors, the purple, the blue, the crimson. They too served as reminders. Rabbi Emil Hirsch, who helped found this congregation, who drove out on a stagecoach—probably with bells on and is a source of pride for Simon for his commitment to social justice, wrote an article for the Jewish Encyclopedia about color. The white was the color of purity, the purple, the lower animal level, the crimson, the human level and the blue of the sky, Godliness. A more modern commentary added to it and said they represent the four worlds and that human beings reflect a combination of those four levels. It is all of us.

Rashi deduced a law for all the priestly vestments: “From the negative one can derive the positive: if he will have them he will not be liable for death; thus, if he enters lacking one of these garments he is liable for death at the hands of Heaven.” While that would seem a pretty severe punishment, Maimonides rules the same way. Getting too close to the Divine can be scary, even dangerous.

I think that is the point. Not only is the High Priest consecrated to G-d but every Israelite man and woman is, every Jew is. We are told that we are to be a light to the nations, a kingdom of priests and a holy nation. As Jewish law developed, The development of Jewish law and observance has produced numerous instances of obligations and prohibitions that originally were intended only for the kohanum, democratically extended to all Jews so that we are a kingdom of priests and a holy nation.

We typically don’t wear bells. But we do have a uniform of prayer, of service, as it were tallit and tefilin. These too are set up as reminders. They remind us what our behavior is supposed to be. When you look at the tzitzit on the tallit you are reminded of the 613 commandments or the Presence of G-d or both. When you wrap yourself in tefillin you make the word Shaddai, one of the names of G-d, with the straps. When I wear a kippah, it reminds me to be humble, to “know before whom I stand.” It is like my version of the WWJD bracelet and if I drive through McDonalds or go shopping at Jewel it keeps me honest in some way. I wear other things as well. I always wear the 10 Commandments. I wear a wedding ring that is inscribed, “Live Contented.” I wear a bracelet that is inscribed, “Ani l’dodi v’dodi li,” I am my beloved and my beloved is mine to remind me of Simon’s love.

So for each of you, I have a gift. A little gold bell. Something you can put in your pocket, or tie on a ribbon of purple or crimson or blue. Something to remind you of how to behave, of the 613 Commandments, of how to be a holy person, of the very Presence of the Divine.