Parashat Terumah
The Mishkan as Model
This portion's attention to detail
speaks to the kind of vigilance we need in creating a just society.
By Evan Wolkenstein
This
commentary is provided by special arrangement with American Jewish World
Service. To learn more, visit www.ajws.org.
In Parashat Terumah, the
Israelites receive the blueprints for a majestic tent--the mishkan--that
will eventually house the magnificent Ark of the Covenant. As we read the vivid
description, we can picture its grandeur. During the Israelites' journeys
through the desert, the mishkan
serves as a portable temple, with the home of God's indwelling, the Ark, at its
center (Exodus 25:8). The Israelite tribes camp around it, placing it at the
heart of the Nation.
While
the detailed beauty of the Ark sounds stunning, the medieval commentator Abravanel wonders about its design. The
first of the Divine Laws prohibits graven images of any kind, replications of
any being, heavenly or earthly (Exodus 20:4). But upon the cover of the ark
perch two cherubim, winged human forms (Exodus 25:20). It would seem
that by including these forms, God is breaking God's own Law.
From the Human Encounter
There
is a possible resolution to this seeming contradiction in the very details of
space and shape that make this parashah and its focus on design so
fascinating. "From above the cover," says God (Exodus 25:22),
"from between the two cherubim that are on top of the Ark of the
Covenant," God will meet with humanity. The voice of God emerges not from
the mouth of any graven image, but from the empty space between two faces.
From
the place of human encounter emerges the Divine Voice. Certainly, in every act
of true listening, of honest speaking, and thus in every act of compassion, in
every heartfelt encounter, in every ethical interaction we can hear God's
voice.
In
other words, if idolatry is to hear the voice of God emerging from a block of
gold, then the opposite of idolatry is to see God's face in every human being,
to hear God's voice emerging from the relationship of any two beings, face to
face, eye to eye, ish el achiv--from one person to another (Exodus
25:20).
Yet
the presence of the sacred in human interactions does not occur automatically
in the encounter. There is a crucial foundation upon which this relationship
takes place, a vital basis where our relationships must be rooted.
Taking
a closer look at who or what resides in the mishkan, we find that God is not, in fact, the tent's
primary resident. Rather, at the center of this sacred structure is the
Law--the two stone tablets chiseled during Revelation at Sinai, when the human
and heavenly worlds met.
The Mishkan as Model
Though
the tablets contain only ten laws, they are the symbol of the covenantal
relationship that guides Israel's every behavior. The five laws on the
right-hand tablet guide us in the realm of ben
adam l'Makom--between
humans and the Omnipresent--and the
five laws on the left-hand tablet guide us in the realm of ben adam l'chavero--
between
humans and their brethren. In that sense, the core of the mishkan is a monument to Divine ethical vigilance.
The
Ark, then, is not a platform for God crowned by two idols, but a complex model
for Divine relationship. God dwells among us when we build relationships that
are founded on morality and focused on the encounter.
The
mishkan, likewise, is a model. The
Ark sits at its core, representing righteous relationship, and the mishkan places this relationship in the
context of a building, an institution. For the nascent Nation of Israel, the mishkan and its Ark was not only the
site of religious service, but also the seat of legislation (Deuteronomy 17:9),
of conflict resolution (Exodus 22:10), and even of the military (Numbers
10:35).
It
is not enough to strive for correct relationships one-on-one or even within our
own homes--the mishkan challenges us
to build our most important institutions in this same model.
To
actualize its lesson, we must demand of our own governments an equivalent
commitment to both the human encounter and the ethical foundations upon which
it must rest. The parashah's
attention to detail speaks to the kind of vigilance our own society must have,
ensuring that this ethical-relational commitment is present in our governing
structures at all levels, in every aspect.
We
must use this as our model for the way elections are carried out, the way
checks and balances are calculated, the commitment to truthful reports in all
public communications, and the way domestic and international policies are
developed and implemented. All systems should exemplify this commitment,
ensuring the safety, freedom, and dignity of all people.
We
invoke the mishkan by studying it, by building our world in its image.
By choosing to adopt its particular architectural style and the values that it
embodies, we make ourselves in the image of the Master Architect.
Evan
Wolkenstein is the Director of Experiential Education and a Tanach teacher at the Jewish
Community High School of the Bay in San Francisco.