When asked, where does God exist? the Kotzker Rebbe replied, wherever you let Him in. In this week’s parsha, we learn how true this statement can be – and how we can make it real for each us.
Parshat Teruma is the first of many parshiot that describe in great detail the instructions to build the Mishkan. Chief Rabbi Jonathan Sacks reminds us that every lesson in the Torah is timeless, as he writes, The Tabernacle did not last forever, but the lesson it taught did. With this in mind we must try to understand the significance of the many chapters we find instructing us in how to build a structure that no longer exists. In doing so we will discover how we, too, can create an environment in which God’s presence can be felt.
Let us first explore the significance of the Mikdash in its time in order to appreciate its implications for us today. Rashi, among others, maintains that the command to build the Mishkan was a reaction to the Sin of the Golden Calf (Ex. 31:18; 33:11). By building the idol, the Jewish people demonstrated they needed a tangible vehicle through which to relate to the Divine. The Mishkan would serve as a more acceptable medium through which the Jewish people could relate to Hashem.
There is a question that begs to be answered if we follow this position: if the problem was that the Jews did realize that they did not need a vehicle to be able to relate to Hashem (because, after all, Hashem is here, Hashem is there) - then how could a structure that would essentially serve this same purpose solve this problem? Perhaps the larger, more fundamental question is: if we believe that Hashem is truly everywhere then what indeed is the purpose of creating a dwelling place for Him?
In dealing with these questions we will see the true value of the Mishkan as it differs from the structure, function, and purpose of the Golden Calf. We will see that the process of building the Mishkan is infused with essential lessons in how to channel our spiritual need and yearning to constantly be coming closer to Hashem not only when we find ourselves in the House of Worship. Indeed the struggle for the finite man to relate to a transcendent, infinite Being is an eternal one – and so these lessons are everlasting and ever important for us today.
The most critical, most glaring difference between the two structures is that the Mishkan was commanded to be built by God: And they shall make Me a sanctuary and I will dwell in their midst (Ex. 25:8), whereas the building of the Golden Calf was a direct violation of last command given to the people on Har Sinai: You shall not make [images of anything that is] with Me. Gods of silver or gods of gold you shall not make for yourselves (Ex. 20:20).
In Judaism there is always room for individuality and initiative – but it must be within the confines of the Torah’s boundaries. In the moment they built a golden image, the Jewish people did not yet understand that one could not possibly be serving Hashem when directly transgressing His will. The end does not always justify the means.
In any relationship, the greatest joy comes from giving a gift that you know the other person wants. To buy a birthday gift for someone that you would want but they would likely never use is certainly a nice gesture - but to go out of your way to figure out what they want and get it for them - displays a far greater level of care and devotion. And so it is with Hashem – and we are so privileged to have His Torah, to be given insight to know what He wants from us. To ignore the “instructions” God provides in order to relate to Him would no longer be the service of Hashem, but the service of the self. Perhaps this is why the Golden Calf serves as the most notable form of avodah zarah (literally foreign service) - because the moment they transgressed the will of Hashem, it was not about serving Him at all.
Another notable difference is that building the Golden Calf was a seemingly effortless and timeless task, while the construction of Mishkan was a much lengthier and consuming process. With their impulsive decision to create an idol, the Jewish people proved that they did not yet realize that relating to Hashem is not a simple or quick process – to be at a point that we feel His presence in our lives cannot and will not happen in a moment's time.
In building the Mishkan, the Jewish people learned that it is only when we are willing to take the time, expend the energy, and keep with it that we will succeed at establishing a lasting relationship. In fact, the whole essence of the Mishkan was that it was portable – wherever the Jewish people went, the Mishkan was with them – because the process of developing our relationship with Hashem must be ongoing and unending - in order for it to be enduring.
A final difference to note is that the Mishkan was filled with vessels that were to be used in the service of Hashem. It was not enough to gaze from a distance at a glamorous statue or figure to be uplifted as they might have expected with idol they first constructed - to have a truly meaningful experience, they had to enter the Mishkan, they had to take part in the Mishkan, they had to make themselves a part of the structure itself. The Mishkan and all its vessels served as vehicles through which the Heavens and earth could meet – but perhaps its most important function was that it enabled the Jewish people to be transformed into vessels themselves – whether by building, carrying, or utilizing the Mishkan.
If we are not apart of the process and we depend on other people or other vehicles alone to inspire and uplift us - if we listen to beautiful concepts and ideas without acting upon them - then we will find ourselves slipping down the spiritual ladder. We need to be involved and engaged in the process of serving Hashem order to climb upward, to reach higher. We need to be the vessels in order to bring Hashem down into our world. In this way, it is through our actions that Heaven and earth can meet.
And so in these parshiot that describe in great detail the process of building the Mishkan, we are really learning how to make ourselves vehicles to let God in - and indeed it is quite a process. But, with the time and effort we put in, we somehow transcend time and space by becoming the vessels that let God into our world– so that wherever we go and wherever we are, we are able to connect to Hashem. And indeed that is time and energy well spent!
As we usher in the Month of Adar, may we find simchah with this realization that mankind - limited and finite in so many ways - can relate to and connect with a transcendent, infinite, and limitless Being whose presence is, in fact, all around us even within us.
Shabbat Shalom & Chodesh Tov, Taly
