Middos, Chapter 3, Mishnah 8. Our chapter has been walking us around the courtyard and its furnishings, and now the Mishnah brings us to the front of the Sanctuary building itself: the beams that held up the Ulam, the golden chains that hung from its ceiling, and the famous golden grapevine that stood at the doorway of the Heichal.
The Cedar Beams
The Mishnah speaks of "kelonasot shel erez," poles of cedar, which were "kevu'in," fixed firmly into place. They ran "mi-kotlo shel heichal," starting at the Heichal's eastern wall, "le-kotlo shel ulam," and reaching across to the matching wall on the Ulam's eastern side, thereby tying together these two neighboring sections of the Beit Hamikdash. Their function is spelled out by the Mishnah: "kedei shelo yiv'atu," to keep the Ulam's wall from bulging outward and coming down.
Why did it need the help? Both the Heichal and the Ulam rose to a height of one hundred amot. The Heichal, however, was roofed over, and its ceiling locked the structure together and kept it steady. The Ulam had no such ceiling to brace it, so its tall wall was vulnerable. The cedar beams were therefore set in above the entrance, tying the Ulam to the Heichal and lending it the stability it lacked.
The Golden Chains and the Crowns
Next, "sharsherot shel zahav," chains of gold, likewise "kevu'in," fastened, into the Ulam's ceiling, from which they dangled almost the whole way down toward the ground. On these, says the Mishnah, "pirchei kehunah olim," the young kohanim would climb up, "ve-ro'in," and take a look, "et ha-atarot," at the crowns, which were stored in the Heichal's windows that faced out onto the Ulam. Their task was to check whether any crown had become damaged and required fixing.
The Mishnah roots these crowns in a verse in Zechariah. The prophet says that the crowns would belong to Chelem, to Toviyyah, to Yeda'yah and to Chen ben Tzefanyah, "le-zikaron," as a lasting memorial for them, for these were the men who had contributed the gold and the silver out of which the crowns were fashioned. The verse closes with the words "be-heichal Hashem," in the Sanctuary of Hashem, and from that phrase we learn where the crowns were housed.
From Golden Trees to a Golden Vine
A piece of background illuminates the Mishnah's next clause. In the era of the first Beit Hamikdash there were trees, planted by Shlomo Hamelech, that bore fruit of solid gold. The kohanim would market that fruit, and the income supported them. In the second Beit Hamikdash that orchard was gone. What stood in its stead was a model of a grapevine made of gold, and its gold was disposed of gradually, bit by bit. The difference lay in where the proceeds went: not toward the personal needs of the kohanim, but toward the maintenance and repair of the Mikdash structure.
The Grapevine at the Doorway
Now the Mishnah's words: "gefen shel zahav," a vine made of gold, stood "al pitcho shel heichal," at the doorway leading into the Heichal. It was "medullah al gabei kelonasot," spread and suspended over a framework of wooden poles, so that it looked like a real vine climbing its supports.
The Mishnah continues: "kol mi she-hu mitnadev," anyone who wished to pledge gold toward the repairs of the Heichal would have his donation shaped into "aleh," a leaf, "o gargir," or a single berry of the vine, "o eshkol," or a full cluster. Such a donor is "mevi ve-toleh": he carried his gold up to the Mikdash and fastened it onto the model vine. Afterward, when the Chachamim required gold for a repair, they would detach a piece from that vine and use it for the upkeep of the Heichal.
Three Hundred Kohanim
"Amar Rabbi Eliezer," said Rabbi Eliezer, son of Rabbi Tzadok, reporting a "ma'aseh she-haya," an incident that genuinely took place: the golden vine once had to be relocated, and "nimnu aleha," a detail was counted off for the job, "shelosh me'ot kohanim," three hundred kohanim, such was the weight it had reached.
The Bartenura points out that this figure is not meant literally. Lifting the vine did not truly call for three hundred pairs of hands; the number is a guzma, one of those intentional overstatements the Chachamim employ. The message it conveys is that shifting the golden grapevine demanded a very large crew.