Parashat Te'tza'veh, Exodus 27:20-30:10

This week’s portion – Te’tza’veh (literally, “you shall order") – is a direct continuation of last week’s portion, that is an extremely detailed description of the instructions on how to build the Tabernacle (or Mishkan) and how to worship God therein. Accordingly, my own notes this week would also continue – and elaborate upon – those of last week’s. In light of several comments I received – directly, not to the Blog (feel free to write to the Blog!) – I think such elaboration is warranted.

God’s Place in This World

Recall that last week I mentioned how precise the text was in clarifying: “And they [the People of Israel] would make me a sanctuary and I will dwell among them” [and not, as one may think “and I would dwell in there.”] (Ex. 25:8) God does not reside in one place, be it a traveling sanctuary or a permanent shrine; rather, God is everywhere, all the time. It is we, the limited humans, who need a constant reminder that God is still among us. It is we who require an actualization of the transcendence of God. It is we who need to see, in our own eyes, what our minds at time refuse to acknowledge.

This week’s portion further elaborates on this important point: “And there [by the Tent of Meeting] I will conference with the People of Israel, and it shall be sanctified by my honor; and I have sanctified the Tent of Meeting . . . And I have dwelled among the People of Israel and I shall be their God; And they shall know that I am the Lord their God who brought them from the Land of Egypt to dwell among them, I am the Lord your God.” (Ex. 29:41-46).

This is a remarkable passage. First, it seems that not only readers of this blog, but also much earlier readers – and perhaps the divine author of the text itself – felt the need for further explanation of this extremely crucial point. Second, what we have here is a direct connection between the First Commandment – “I am the Lord your God who brought you from the Land of Egypt” – and notion of residing in places other than the so-called “holy" (or "sanctified”) places. Indeed, in the deepest religious sense, these “holy” places are merely symbols; the truly religious person doesn’t need them – he has God with him everywhere, at all times.

While this point may sound somewhat trivial (or even unimportant) to American ears, rest assured that many a war could have been prevented, and thousands of lives could have been spared, if only some middle-eastern leaders (yes, Israeli leaders in particular) could fully realize this point. It is not the place that is holly; it is God; He does not reside in that place, He is everywhere. The question, therefore, whether Israel should hold on to this place or that grave (which, presumably, are “holy” for some reason) becomes irrelevant once all leaders would truly internalize this point.

Yeshayahu Leibovitz, who, more than anyone else, advocated this point ad nauseam once “dared” calling Israel’s most holly place – the Western Wall (called in Israel: The Ko’tel) – a “Disco Kotel.” He explained that there’s nothing “holly” about it, and that "pile of stone" was definitely not worth the life of one soldier, let alone hundreds of civilians. But, as often is the case, his words were taken out of context, and all people can now remember is that he called this place a “Disco.” But all Leibovitz was trying to do is to make the same argument that God Himself (or the author of the last two portions) was making thousands of years ago.

For those who are seeking a more current angle – which are most of my readers, I'm afraid – let me suggest a quote from one of my favorite movies, A Few Good Men (1992). At the end of that film, after the two Marines were acquitted of the more serious charges – murder and a conspiracy to commit murder – but convicted of the lesser charge – conduct unbecoming a Marine Core soldier – one of them wonders what would they do now that they have no unit, no core, and no honor. Lieutenant Kaffee, played by Tom Cruise, turns to him and explains: “You don't need a patch on your arm to have honor.”

The same is true for having God in your life. The relationship between you and God should not be dictated by wearing a “patch on the arm,” a “Yamukah" on your head, or even frequenting the nearest synagogue as often as you can. These are merely symbols to your relationship, not “the thing in itself” (to borrow for a short moment from the greatest philosophers of all times). Those relationship, however, are determined by the degree to which you allow God to reside in your heart. If you are content with that degree, you shouldn't let anyone ever try to persuade you otherwise; but if you are not content, all the hours you will ever spend in shul, wearing Talit, Tefilin, and Yamukah, would be of no help at all. It is just between you and God.

Shabbat Shalom,

Doron