A main subject of the parsha is the ceremonial garments of the kohein gadol, which were royal in their splendor (l’chavod u’l’siferes).  The hem of the skirt of the outer garment was decorated with alternating little golden bells and pomegranates to signal his approach as he comes into the Sanctuary, into the presence of Hashem.  Rabbeinu Bachya writes that Aharon’s entrance into the House of Hashem is like a prototype for every person entering the palace of the king. He does not enter suddenly and unexpectedly.  In fact, as in the case of Achashverosh, anyone who entered without the king’s special permission was to be put to death.  So the kohein gadol was to come into the presence of Hashem with a deep consciousness of his submission to the King of Kings, so that the golden bells were a constant reminder of this submission.  On the other hand, the garments invested him with kingly splendor, and with a deep sense of the greatness of the task he was fulfilling.  So the garments serve to symbolize two opposite ideas; were the garments intended to make the kohein gadol feel like a king, or were they to inspire him with the submission of being before the King of Kings?  This dichotomy indicates that it is possible to be humble and proud at the same time, ‘without developing any schizoid tendencies’.

In Devarim, it says that Hashem chose you (Bnei Yisrael) because you were the least of all the nations (ha’me’at mikol ha’amim).  Rashi explains that this means that Bnei Yisrael do not exalt themselves  despite Hashem’s bracha.  Rather, they belittle themselves, like Avaraham who said “I am dust and ashes”, and like Moshe and Aharon who said “What are we?”.  They are not like Nevuchadnetzar or like Sancheirev who glorified themselves because Hashem gave them the power to subjugate Beni Yisrael.  The essential characteristic of Israel is that they do not attribute what they have to their own skill or merit, but only to Hashem who has given them these gifts.  While the kohein gadol wearing his garments symbolized both majesty and humility, Achaverosh wore the garments of the kohein gadol as a symbol of his own power, as a sign of his own glory.

The gemara tells us that Rabbi Yochanan would always knock before entering his own house, derived from this need of the kohein gadol to signal his approach into the Sanctuary, since he considered his home as the House of Hashem.  But the knock on the door has the purpose of consideration for his family’s privacy.  The knock indicates that he is as one of the people, and must bow before the sovereignty of Hashem.  In contrast, Achashversosh’s decree that all men have to rule over their homes expresses only the self-glorification but not the humility inherent in the garments. 

Rabbi Miller asks how it is possible that the splendor and sovereignty of his robes and the adulation due to the kohein gadol did not prevent him from having the essential humility demanded of him.  He brings a mashal of the Baal Shem Tov.  The emperor was coming to a town and the prince of the town went out to greet the emperor in his own royal garments in order to honor the emperor, and they rode together  in the prince’s finest chariot.  The whole town came out to welcome the emperor, but the people mistook the prince in his splendid robes for the emperor, ignoring the true emperor completely.  The prince was mortified at the insult to the king.  The nimshal is that if a man feels himself alone in his honor, then he will accept all honor as his right and believe he is the king.  But if a man feels he is always accompanied by the King of the universe, he will feel a sense of shame with every praise accorded to him.  The contrast between the world of appearance and the world of reality will be impressed upon him, and he will turn to Hashem in a plea of shame and submission.  The root of true humility is not a belittling of the gifts one has, but a recognition that the credit for them is due entirely to Hashem.  The kohein gadol had to have wealth, and was given wealth if he was a poor man, because he was to be treated with respect, as a king, by the people.  But at the same time he has to remain aware that Hashem is before him continually and that before Hashem, he is as one of the people, without pride or privilege.

This theme is illustrated also by the recounting by the prophet Yechezkel that when the kohanim left the Mikdash and came to the people they would take off their priestly garments and put on ordinary ones.  In normal human content, the priests were not to assume any air of superiority.

Rabbi Miller extends this to every individual.  For a religious Jew, relating to those less religious than he, pride and self-congratulation is a chillul Hashem.  A person should not lose sight of the kedusha, the splendor of the robes one is wearing and the way of life that one has chosen, but never should one lose the awarenesss of the presence of Hashem that shames one for any honor these robes attract to him.  The life of a religious Jew is a constant composite of these two perceptions.