A Willing Heart and the Willing Creator
Parashat Terumah, Exodus 25:1–27:18
Dr. Daniel Nessim, Kehilat Tsion, Vancouver, BC
The book of Exodus has forty chapters. Starting with Terumah, the last fifteen have to do with the construction of the sanctuary. That is almost half of the book. It begins with the Creator saying, “Build me a sanctuary” (25:8).
The Midrash Rabbah records that “When God said to Moses: ‘Make a sanctuary for Me,’ he [Moses] exclaimed in amazement: ‘The Glory of the Holy One, blessed be He, fills heaven and earth, and yet He commands “Make a tabernacle for Me”!’”
The entire passage will end in another parasha (Pekudei) at Exodus 40:38 with the record of the Shekhinah glory of the Lord, now above the sanctuary in the midst of the people of Israel both day and night.
There are two essential ingredients required to bring this remarkable state of affairs to pass. The first is a terumah (תרומה). An offering. But that is not all. The second ingredient was careful, time-consuming work. Between the offering and the arrival of the Presence of Hashem many preparations had to be made, as is detailed in the next fifteen chapters. To begin with, though, the people of Israel had to take the offering—of gold, silver, brass, blue, purple, scarlet, fine linen, goats’ hair, rams skins dyed red, sealskins, acacia wood, oil, spices, onyx and other precious stones. It was then that they also had to take the time and go to the labor of crafting this offering into a Sanctuary.
But there is more. In addition to the need for an offering, and the need for time and care to prepare the sanctuary, this work was also to be done exactly as the Lord showed Moses. Everything had to be done according to the pattern that God had shown Moses on the top of Mount Sinai. Moses tells us in the Torah that not only did he have the instructions he recorded in Exodus, but he also knew what the finished product should look like based on what he had been shown—what he had seen—on the Mountain.
But why should the “One who spoke and the world came into being” (as we call him at the beginning of Pesukei D’zimrah, the verses of praise in the Siddur) choose to interact with Israel in a specific, limited, physical place? Why was all this commanded? Two statements reveal why the Mishkan, the Tabernacle, was required.
The first, in Exodus 25:8, is “that I may dwell among them.” The word dwell is shakhan, from which we get the word Shekhinah. While it is forever associated with the phrase “the Shekhinah glory of the Lord,” here it has a touching aspect. It has to do with settling down, abiding, dwelling. God wanted to dwell, or abide, with his people Israel. In his Guide for the Perplexed 25, Maimonides relates this term to the previous parashah where we read vayishkon kevod Adonai, “and the glory of the Lord abode on Mount Sinai . . . and the Lord called to Moses out of the midst of the cloud.” This is nothing less than the Creator of all choosing to dwell among his people on earth.
The second reason the Mishkan needed to be built is found in Exodus 25:22. Following some detailed instructions concerning the construction of the Ark itself, with its golden cherubim on top, their wings touching each other, the Lord promises “there I will meet with you.” Once again, the verb here is significant. The word meet is not the word for casual meeting, but for an appointed meeting, a meeting of some importance. It is not the chance meeting of acquaintances on the street, but of those with a constructive purpose. In some cases, it is even the word for betrothing, or becoming engaged, to a spouse. Regularly in life we meet with people in the supermarket or at work and just chat. Sometimes we have a real heart-to-heart conversation. It is this heart-to-heart that is implied in God wanting to meet with Moses, the representative of his people Israel.
When we understand that God wanted to abide in relationship with Israel, and that he intended to meet in person with Israel’s representative, we can see why it was so important that the abiding place, the meeting place, should be carefully constructed. God’s commitment to Israel was far from spontaneous or a passing fancy. His commitment was intentional and profound. Its results were enduring and deep-rooted.
Our parasha pertains specifically to God’s Presence with Israel in the wilderness. Does it end there? Certainly not, for the Tanakh is full of references both in the Prophets and the Writings to his Presence among his people in the Holy Temple. David rejoiced in the Presence of the Lord in the Tabernacle of Jerusalem. When Solomon replaced that Tent with the Temple, the Lord’s Presence filled the place. Israel’s exile was sadly marked by the departure of God’s Presence, but also by the promise of his return. Indeed, Ezekiel foresaw the day when the Lord would return with a voice like the roar of rushing waters and enter the Temple by the gate facing east (Ezek 43:1-3).
The Lord took great care and paid much attention to detail when he instructed Israel to build him a place so he could abide with them and meet with them. In doing so, he re-enacted in some ways the care and attention to detail given to the creation of the world itself. Both were so that he might dwell with his people, and that he might meet with them.
This, then, is a characteristic of the Almighty. Present everywhere, he yet deigns to make his Presence known in our time and space. Whereas we cannot reach, and certainly cannot comprehend, his exalted mind, his infinite space, his timeless space, he has chosen to enter ours.
Whether in the Tabernacle, the Temple, or through the person of his Anointed One, he has come down to make himself known in and among his own creatures and creation.
Perhaps, when we consider how the Word became flesh, and dwelt, tabernacled, among us, we might consider how we too might reach across to others who are in different worlds than us. Perhaps as we go through our daily lives we will find opportunities to reach out to those different from us, maybe people we wouldn’t normally associate with, and be present with them, and dwell with them for some time. Perhaps this Shabbat, when we see someone in our synagogue or other place of assembly who we really don’t take to—we might just seek to emulate our Creator and his Messiah and reach across to them in love.
Love just like his.