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In this week’s parshah, we learn about the construction of the Tabernacle that the Jews were commanded to build in the desert. It is a well known concept in Jewish life that there exists a direct link between the Tabernacle and the day of Shabbos: Every single creative activity that was needed in order to construct the Tabernacle (e.g. tearing, dyeing, carrying etc.) is forbidden for us to perform on Shabbos. All those actions that we are commanded to abstain from on Shabbos are therefore rooted in the construction of the Tabernacle.
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In this week’s parshah, we learn about the construction of the Tabernacle that the Jews were commanded to build in the desert. Practically the entire parshah deals with every feature of the Tabernacle, down its most minute detail regarding how it was to be built. At first, God describes to Moshe how to construct the different vessels that were to be found inside the Tabernacle, and afterwards did He explain to Moshe the details of the outer structure itself, which would contain these vessels.

It is a well known concept in Jewish life that there exists a direct link between the Tabernacle and the day of Shabbos: Every single creative activity that was needed in order to construct the Tabernacle (e.g. tearing, dyeing, carrying etc.) is forbidden to us on Shabbos. All those laws pertaining to Shabbos; all those actions which we are commanded to abstain from on Shabbos, are rooted in the construction of the Tabernacle.

This intrinsic connection between the Tabernacle and the day of Shabbos can be highlighted further were we to take a closer look at the details of the Tabernacle. There were three vessels that were found inside the Tabernacle: The ark of testimony― referred to as “Kodesh Ha’kedoshim”―, the showbread table, and the menorah (candelabra). If one were to think about the very Shabbos table we eat and drink at every week, one would notice a manifestation of these three vessels present.

The lighting of the Shabbos candles parallel the lighting of the holy menorah (candelabra), the two loaves of bread parallel the loaves of bread that were placed on the showbread table, and KiDuSH (the recital over the cup of wine) parallels the “KoDeSH Ha’KeDoSHim” (note that “Kidush” and “Kodesh Ha’Kedoshim” share the same Hebrew root “KDSH”). One might even say that the meat we eat at the Shabbos table parallels the meat of the Shabbos sacrifice that was offered upon the altar in the sanctuary.

When observing the above-mentioned parallels to the three vessels, we come across a problem. Of the three vessels, only two seem to correspond to items at the Shabbos table! The similarities between the showbread table and the loaves of bread, and between the candelabra and the Shabbos candles are quite easy to understand. But how are we to explain the resemblance between the cup of wine (Kidush) and the ark of testimony (Kodesh Ha’kedoshim)? The only thing that seems to match up between them is the Hebrew root (KDSH) they share with eachother! What deeper connection can be drawn out between them?

Firstly, there is an obvious reason why the ark of testimony cannot be physically represented at the Shabbos table. The ark of testimony, as this week’s parshah describes, is covered by a golden statue of two winged cherubs facing one another. Having a physical manifestation of this in our house would be tantamount to idolatry! In fact, the Torah itself goes out of its way to prohibit us from building for ourselves a golden image that resembles that of the Tabernacle (Exodus: 20: 20, see Rashi)! However, we are still left with the question of why wine is chosen specifically to represent the ark of testimony.

Of all the details that distinguish the ark from the other vessels, there is one that really stands out: the ark is completely separated and hidden from everything else. The Tabernacle was built in such a way that the showbread table and candelabra were located in one section of the Tabernacle, while the ark, separated by a partition, was located in another section all by itself. In fact, the ark was barely even used! The candelabra was lit every day and the showbread table had its bread replaced every week. But the ark was only used once a year on Yom Kippur! Not only that, but it was forbidden to even get a quick glance of the ark! (See “Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark” for more details) Therefore, it can be said that a fundamental aspect of the ark of testimony is hiddenness and secrecy.

Wine too represents hiddenness and secrecy. It’s common knowledge that a little too much wine can cause one to say things he’d never say when sober. One’s deepest and darkest secrets are most vulnerable of being divulged when drinking too much. Wine possesses the unique ability to reveal that side of us that we keep hidden and locked away from everyone around us. Furthermore, the numerical value of “yayin” (“wine” in Hebrew) itself equals the same numerical value as “sod”, the Hebrew words for “secret”. Hence, the parallel between the ark of testimony and the cup of wine is that of secrecy.

Unfortunately, wine (along with all other kinds of alcohol) is most commonly misused by almost everyone these days. The true purpose of wine, which explains why it appears at practically every religious ceremony (Shabbos, weddings, circumcisions etc.), is to bring out that part of us which we keep hidden all too often: our soul. Wine is meant to serve as a spark for our soul, igniting it to come closer to God. It has the power to reveal that holy side of ourselves which we choose to ignore and keep concealed throughout our everyday life. Shabbos is a time to reflect on that other side of us; it is a time to realize just how much we’re hiding from who we really are and who we have the potential to be. May we merit to observe the Shabbos properly, and drink its wine for its true purpose.

Good Shabbos,

NZL

Shabat shalom umevorach!

*Translations credited as follows
All quotes from Parshat Trumah taken from the Artscroll Stone Edition Chumash
All quotes from Pirkei Avot taken from the Artscroll Pirkei Avos byRabbi Meir Zlotowitz
All quotes from Tehillim taken from the Artscroll Tehillim

“The Chosen People—Under all Circumstances?

Rabbi Shlomo Aviner Beit-El

The idea that G-d dwells amongst the Israelites is a fundamental one in the Bible, stated repeatedly: In today’s parasha, “That I may dwell among them” (Ex. 28:8), as well as “I will abide among the Israelites” (Ex. 29:45), “I will dwell in your midst” (Zech. 2:14-15), to cite but a few. Is G-d’s presence among us contingent upon our behavior, and is it likely to be cancelled if we are sinful? Two verses would seem to indicate that this reality is eternal and irrevocable: “I will abide among the children of Israel, and I will never forsake My people Israel” (I Kings 6:13), “and I will dwell among them forever” (Ezek. 43:9).

We find the following polemic in Tractate Yoma 56b: “A Christian said to Rabbi Haninah: Now [since the Destruction] you [Jews] are surely impure, as attested by the scriptural verse, ‘Her uncleanness clings to her skirts’ (Lament. 1:9).” Said Rabbi Haninah to him, “Come and see what is written about them: ‘which abides with them in the midst of their uncleanness’ (Lev. 16:16).” The simple meaning of the verse is that the Tent of Meeting resides amongst them, but R. Haninah took it to mean that the Divine Presence remains, even in the midst of their uncleanness. One of the theological tenets of Christianity is that Israel was chosen by G-d conditionally and their chosen status was revoked because of their sins. R. Haninah countered that this status was irrevocable.
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With so many details, so many materials, and so many measurements, the 21st century Jew has to ask, “Where do I fit in to Parshat Terumah?” The endless instructions for building the Bet Hamikdash are somewhat overwhelming, but the parsha’s first pasuk is key to finding yourself amongst the construction:
“… they shall take to Me a portion, from every man whose heart wills him, you shall take My portion” (Exodus 25:1)

His heart? What on earth does this have to do with one’s heart? After all, the service done in the Bet Hamikdash seems so… ceremonial and material oriented. And yet, part of the mitzvah in donating to this place is of an emotional nature. A few psukim later, the Torah says something else puzzling:
“They shall make a sanctuary for Me, so that I may dwell among them. According to what I will show you, after the form of the Tabernacle and the form of all its vessels, and so shall you do.” (Exodus 25:8)

Why doesn’t the Torah say “among IT” if it’s referring to the sanctuary? The gemara says that the Torah specifies “them” to mean the people themselves, the people of every generation. Does this mean we are violating a major mitzvah de’oraita (from the written Torah)? How can we possibly observe this mitzvah today?

Each one of us is a Bet Hamikdash.

Just like the temple was a multilayered building, a physical place that housed the essence of the spiritual reality, our bodies house our Neshamot. The korbanot (sacrifices), songs, and services performed in the Bet Hamikdash were the ways in which the Jews served Hashem and nurtured their relationships with Him. For us, it is through our actions, the melacha of daily life that we nurture our neshamot (our holy of holies) and serve Hashem. This is both an internal and an external mitzvah. This service cannot be “faked” or only carried out through the mitzvot parallel to the actions that were done in the bet hamikdash, this service must be felt. Strange that a commandment is demanding of how we feel, but similar to teshuvah, our hearts are essential to the completion of this mitzvah.

Rabbi Akiva Tatz says that there are two ways to kill your neshama. You can destroy it by poisoning yourself with mitzvot lo ta-aseh (negative mitzvot), or you can starve it by not doing mitzvot aseh (positive mitzvot)… both aspects are key to serving Hashem in your own personal Bet Hamikdash today. You cannot connect to Hashem by simply not doing anything wrong. The Bet Hamikdash was a place of activity, people literally traveled days to reach the temple in order to serve Hashem. It was a tangible reminder that Hashem’s presence in the physical world is constant. Today, our work is really cut out for us because our awareness of Him is completely dependant on our own actions.

The Kabbalah explains that between Ein Sof (Hashem himself) to the world and reality that we live in, there are many different worlds. Each one becomes less and less transparently spiritual, with more and more layers of physicality masking it. By our world, Hashem is almost entirely hidden (Olam, the word for “world” has the same soresh as “ne-elam” meaning hidden). But He is just as present in this world as the others. Only the layers which cloak him are thicker and harder to peel away. The poet Raphael Simon wrote, “To fall in love with God is the greatest of all romances; To seek him, the greatest adventure; To find him, the greatest human achievement.”

That is our mission, and our challenge. Each person does this in his or her own way, and anyone else’s journey would not satisfy another’s. It is both an incredibly personal and private experience, as well as a communal one which cannot be completed without every single person together. In the Bet Hamikdash each individual was responsible for bringing their own sacrifices during the year, but come Yom Kippur, the Kohen Gadol entered the Holy of Holies, and he alone begged for forgiveness on behalf of the entire nation. The risk was death. Today we must each straddle the same line between worshipping Hashem through our individual temples (our bodies and neshamot), and accepting the fact that we are not complete as individuals without the Bet Hamikdash.

May we all open our hearts in order to receive Hashem’s love, and in order to give Him our own. I hope to see everyone in The Bet Hamikdash any day now… Shabbat Shalom!