Parashat Te'tza'veh

This week’s portion – Te’tza’veh (literally, “you shall order them”) – is a direct continuation of last week’s portion, namely the extremely detailed instructions on how to build the Tabernacle (or Mishkan) and to serve God therein.  Accordingly, my own notes, too, will continue – and elaborate upon – those of last week’s. In light of several comments I received – (please feel free to comment on the Blog webpage) – I think such some elaboration is warranted. 

I. God’s Place in The World

Last week we discussed an extremely well-translated verse, which read: “And they [the People of Israel] would build me a sanctuary and I will dwell among them” [and not, as one may think “and I would dwell within it.”] (Ex. 25:8) God does not reside in one place, be it a traveling sanctuary or a permanent shrine. God, as we all know well, is omnipresent, throughout time immemorial. It is we, the limited humans, who need a constant reminder that God is always 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 – the constant glory of God.

This week’s portion further elaborates on this important point:

“And there [by the Tent of Meeting] I will hold 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 their God.” (Ex. 29:43-46).

This is a remarkable passage. First, it seems that not only readers of this blog, but also some earlier readers – and perhaps the divine author of the text itself – felt the need to further develop this idea, which was first presented in a short sentence last week. Second, what we have here is a direct connection between the First Commandment – “I am the Lord your God who took you out from the Land of Egypt” – and the notion of God as residing in all places rather than only in those places commonly referred to today as the “holy places.” Indeed, in the deepest religious sense, these so-called “holy places” are merely symbols, a human reminder for the awesomeness of God. Indeed, a true person of faith doesn’t need them at all – he or she have God in their heart at all times, wherever they go (also note the third verse of the “Sh’ma,” instructing every Jewish person to worship God anywhere, anytime: “While sitting at home or walking on the road, while lying down or standing up.”)

 I am aware that this point may sound somewhat trivial to many an American Jew, or, for that matter, to any Jew who reside outside Israel. And yet this seemingly inconsequential concept may carry far-reaching implications, and perhaps more so today than ever before, for the Israeli Palestinian conflict. In particular, many regional conflicts, thousands of lives, and much pain could have been saved if only some middle-eastern leaders (yes, Israeli leaders among them) would have internalized this seemingly simple notion: It is not the place that is holly – only God is Holy; God does not reside in that place or another, He is everywhere.

Thus, one of the thorniest aspects of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict – the question of whether the Israeli Government should hold on to this or that place (which, presumably, is “holier” more than other places) becomes irrelevant. The places are not “holy” (although, to be sure, they may be of other significance; but that status – in contrast to “holiness” can always be negotiated).

Professor Yeshayahu Leibovitz, perhaps the most ardent follower of this concept and its most prominent advocate, did not hesitate to take this point to its logical extreme. On one occasion he dared calling Israel’s most sacred place – the Western Wall (known in Israel as the “The Ko’tel”) – a “Disco Kotel.” He was trying to make the point that worshiping a place, as opposed to worshiping God, is actually anti Jewish. He further explained that there was ever nothing “holy” about that particular wall (or any other wall, for that matter), and that it was definitely not worth the life of a single person, let alone the hundreds and thousands of soldiers and civilians who were killed and injured over the years in the effort to “liberate” it. But, as is often the case, his words were taken out of context, and all people remember now is that he called this “holy” place “a Disco.” But again, all that Leibovitz was trying to do is to underscore the same argument that God Himself was making in the last two portions.

            II. God’s Place in Your Heart

For those who seek a more current angle – which is true for most of my readers, I guess – let me offer a quote from one of my favorite movies - A Few Good Men (1992). At the end of the film, after the two Marines were acquitted of the two most 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 aloud what would they do now that they have no more unit, no core, and no honor.  Lieutenant Kaffee, played by Tom Cruise, confidently reassures him in response: “You don't need a badge on your arm to have honor.”

I think the same is true for God. The relationship between you and God should not be directed by a “badge on the arm,” a “Yamukah or the head,” or the amount of time you spend in the nearest synagogue. While all those are important, they are, at the end of the day, merely symbols or representations of your relationship to God, not “the thing in itself” (to borrow, for a short moment, from the greatest philosopher of all time). 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, don’t let anyone ever tell you otherwise; and if you are not happy with that degree, all the hours you will ever spend in shul, wearing Talit, Tefilin,  and Yamukah combined, would be of no help to you at all. Such determination may only be made between you and God.

Shabbat Shalom,

Doron