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Bearing Witness to All That Was & All That Could Be

03/13/2024 09:53:48 AM

Mar13

Rabbi Molly Weisel

If I’m being honest, there are parts of the Torah that seem to drag on FOR-EV-ER. This week is one of those moments for me. We’ve reached the final portion in the book of Exodus, Parshat P’kudei, and we’re talking about….building the Tabernacle! I usually groan and think “Still?! What more is there to say?” 

For more than a third of Exodus, we’ve been reading detailed instructions about what gifts the Israelites should contribute to the building of the Tabernacle, who will do the labor, and a meticulous accounting of what goes where, such as “the 100 talents of silver were for casting the sockets of the sanctuary…” (Exodus 38:27).

I think it’s lovely that the Israelites donated 100 talents of silver, but to be honest, I don’t know what a “talent” is and I have no idea what it means to cast the sockets. I assume it’s important though. 

This year, however, as we reach the end of Exodus, I’m asking the question differently, with curiosity. 

Why would we spend so much time reading about a building project? The entire drama of the Passover story, from enslavement to liberation, takes place in the same number of chapters. Surely there must be a reason.

The obvious answer is that smack dab in the middle of God’s instructions for building the Tabernacle is when we have the incident of the golden calf. The project’s timeline gets derailed due to one of the most divisive and shameful moments in our biblical history. We have to shift focus and it takes time to recover from that trauma and recommit to the Tabernacle project.

I think there’s more to it than that. 

Parshat P’kudei begins with this verse: “These are the accounts of the Tabernacle, the Tabernacle of the Pact…” (Exodus 38:21). 

The Hebrew word translated here as “Pact” is עדת (eidoot), which could simply be referencing the covenant God made with the Israelites that is represented by the new tablets, which are called “the two tablets of the Pact.”

But eidoot can also be translated as “testimony” or “witness.” The Tabernacle is not just a dwelling place for God; it is a space that acts as witness to all that was and all that will be.

Midrash Tanhuma offers this teaching: “The Tabernacle bears testimony to the entire world that God forgave [the Israelites] for the episode of the golden calf.”

The Tabernacle, not only its existence, but the detailed account of the peoples’ offerings and labor to build it, is critical to our story. The Tabernacle holds the history of how we transformed into a nation, including our darkest moment of turning our back on God and Moses, and most importantly, our willingness to confront our mistakes and commit to a path forward. 

The Tabernacle represents the possibility of repentance and reconciliation. It bears witness to the past and is testament to our collective investment in a better future. 

This part of our story takes its time in order to help us understand what it means to hold space for simultaneously looking back and looking forward, especially when it feels deeply painful to do either. 

I can’t help but think about the Israel-Gaza war this year as I read Parshat P’kudei. For so many of us, it still feels too raw and scary to think too hard about the attacks of October 7th and the hostages who are still being held captive. It’s disorienting and disheartening to try looking forward when there’s no end in sight to the war and all we hear is that “the dream of the two-state solution is dead.” Not to mention that the retaliation under Netanyahu’s command and the horrific death toll of Palestinian civilians has become the most divisive issue of our time in the Jewish community. 

Like all of you, I hold complicated feelings about the war and there’s not enough space here to capture all the nuanced feelings that I’m sure you are also grappling with. The accounts of the Tabernacle, as a mechanism for the Israelites to process and move forward, reminded me how important it is to build that space for each other. 

To that end, I’m thinking about how we can do that work of building together here at TBT, and I’m excited to share that this Motzei Shabbat, I will be traveling to Israel for a whirlwind 4-day program with The iCenter, called A Mifgash (Encounter) That Matters.” 

This is a trip designed for Jewish educators who are thinking about how Israel education in our institutions will continue to change as a result of the war. 

I was drawn to this program precisely because it is a forward-looking trip. Yes, we will spend one day visiting some of the locations in Southern Israel that were attacked, stepping into and sharing that pain, but the majority of our time will be spent engaging with people who continue to hold visions for a peaceful future. With people who refuse to give up hope. 

Israeli and Palestinian civilians have been traumatized by the past 5+ months. There is a deep sense of pain and betrayal for both peoples. There’s no simple solution that doesn’t involve repentance, reconciliation, and transformation on both sides. And I know that there are individuals and organizations made up of both Israelis and Palestinians, who are invested in that work. That’s what I want to learn more about. 

Building the Tabernacle was hard. It required individual sacrifices, a lot of sweat, and perhaps most importantly, a willingness of the Israelites to take ownership of their mistakes and commit to a different future. 

As we say when we reach the end of a book in the Torah, chazak chazak v’nitchazek, “be strong, be strong, and we will strengthen one another.”

This week, as we reach the end of the book of Exodus, may the story of our people give us the strength to make space for looking back and holding the pain, for the hard work of owning where we have fallen short, and for looking forward toward a path that helps lead us to peace. And may we, in turn, strengthen one another. 

Mon, April 29 2024 21 Nisan 5784