2021/5781
This week’s Parashah presents the reader with a highly descriptive view of the internal and external components of the Mishkan, detailing its wondrous intricacy and specifications to a tee. Though it would seem from the base language of the opening Pesukim (Shemot 25:1-8) that Hashem has laid down a blanket command to build a Mishkan with little to no reasoning provided, we find this to be quite the opposite case entirely. Based on the very words of our last introductory Pasuk - “VeAsu Li Mikdash VeShachanti BeTocham,” “And they shall make Me a sanctuary and I will dwell in their midst” (ibid. 25:8) - we may be able to try and grasp a far deeper and scintillating understanding of Hashem’s words to Moshe Rabbeinu.
What does the Pasuk mean when Hashem states that, “I will dwell in their midst?” How could HaKadosh Baruch Hu, the Almighty who stretches and belongs outside of the realms of space-time, dimension itself, simply be found dwelling among a small and lonely people in the middle of a desert? Under what merit could such a feat be accomplished for such a people? To answer this question, we must try to reconnect with HaKadosh Baruch Hu ourselves, through thousands of years of Jewish history (and some help from our greatest Torah scholars), to determine the essence of the words, “VeShachanti BeTocham” in our oft-limited understanding.
The Or HaChaim (ibid. s.v. VeShachanti BeTocham) and Seforno (ad loc.) present the curious individual with two competing, yet equally critical interpretations of this mysterious Pasuk. In the former’s view, the Pasuk should not be misunderstood to indicate that Hashem dwelled “within it,” meaning simply within the Mishkan itself. Rather, the place Hashem has sanctified to “dwell” is within the Bnei Yisrael that encircles the Mishkan. In a similar vein, perhaps even building upon the Or HaChaim, Seforno makes note of the very meaning behind the Mishkan’s construction and placement in the very center of the greater Machanei Yisrael, camps of Israel. The very concept is meant to prod the intelligent viewer to conclude that hidden deep within the multi-faceted superstructure lies Hashem’s presence. Citing the words of the Navi Yeshayahu (Yeshayahu 6:2), Seforno delineates a picture of the various domains and levels of Kedushah, of holiness, that lie between Machaneh Yisrael and the Kodesh HaKedashim of the Mishkan, noting an ascendance of sanctity manifest in its specific architecture. The levels of Kedushah, beginning with the courtyard around the Mishkan, were not sealed off from one another. Contrarily, they were connected from the Chatzeir, the courtyard, to the Kodesh HaKedashim, holy of holies (and innermost chamber), as a blatant demonstration that sanctity is attainable progressively. What Seforno’s approach has to offer may seem unclear at this point, but with time will seem rather coherent and awe-striking with further investigation.
Before presenting the freshest perspectives that can be offered, it would be wise to take note of the words of Chazal, which have guided so many commentators through their careers of exegetical and eisegetical interpretation for thousands of years, with much success. The Gemara (Ketubot 62b) understands that Hashem’s original intention was to build a Beit HaMikdash for the Jewish people immediately upon their entrance into Eretz Yisrael (see Shemot 15:17). Yet a later Pasuk states, “VeAsu Li Mikdash VeShachanti BeTocham,” indicating rather clearly that even while they were still in the desert, they enjoyed a uniquely deep and great closeness to HaKadosh Baruch Hu that would have only later on occurred had they not demonstrated their great affection for Him at an early stage. If this sounds slightly hard to follow, and perhaps paradoxical, that is because it is. For how can it be that in light of Bnei Yisrael’s numerous violations of Hashem’s will and Torah previously and later on (ex. The Eigel HaZahav, complaining post-Keriyat Yam Suf on three separate occasions, etc.), that Hashem is still willing to openly announce and then simply “dwell” among the nation? It may be worthwhile at this point for us to begin to introspect deeply on the nature of the Mishkan’s presence and message and try to understand its application to our times.
Rav Chaim Volozhiner (Sefer Nefesh HaChaim 4:1) declared that there is no truer Temple - no Mishkan, no Beit HaMikdash - than the personality of the individual. The Shechinah resides within each of us. Conversely, we know from the Torah that Aveirot, sins, involve the removal of Hashem’s presence from within the individual. Rav Yoseif Dov Soloveitchik (see Before Hashem You Shall Be Purified: Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik on the Days of Awe, pp. 155-156) builds upon the words of Rav Chaim, that because Aveirah is equated to the destruction of the Beit HaMikdash, in a very real sense one who is Ovrei Aveirot - who actively sins - does to themself what was done to the two Batei HaMikdash. The Rav further explains (Shiur given in Boston, 1979) : “Hashem created the world in order to reside in it, rather than reside in transcendence of it. Man could have continually experienced Him instead of trying to infer His Presence through examining nature.” But in the wake of the sin of the Eitz HaDa’at with Adam and Chavah, He retreated from the material world (BeReishit 3:8). Indeed, the challenge of mankind from that point forward has always been in seeking to infer His Presence through careful examination of nature; however, the results have been perennially varied in light of an exponential combination of natural factors, leading to varied consequences across a broad period of history, even to this present day.
Surely, had Adam not sinned, HaKadosh Baruch Hu’s Presence would have remained. Yet in a short time, Adam and Chavah managed to violate Hashem’s one major ask of them, and then follow up by hiding and fearing to communicate with Him in the wake of their actions. It is this lack of communication, this lack of openness with Hashem, that ultimately led to the removal of His Divine Presence. But the purpose of the Mishkan, says the Rav (Boston, 1979), reflects a deep and profoundly inspiring counter-message: Despite past experiences and events, Hashem has communicated that He is willing to restore His relationship with man, and thus outwardly states to Moshe Rabbeinu, “VeShachanti BeTocham,” “and I will dwell in their midst.”
Yet again, Bnei Yisrael later forgot this very message, leading to the destruction of not only one Beit HaMikdash, but two. Not simply one story of Am Yisrael’s near-annihilation, but countless stories. Yet, we may still look at the message of the Beit HaMikdash and Mishkan’s existence with a still introspective light, and we may still try to extrapolate the rich and deep historical lessons from the times that they stood and what they represented. As Mori VeRebbi, Rav Jachter writes, “the Beit HaMikdash expresses the presence of Hashem among Am Yisrael….The words “in them” refer to the Jewish People. By focusing on the Beit HaMikdash even at our lowest ebb, we articulate our firm belief that Hashem will never abandon His people and his presence remains even in the midst of the Galut (Megillah 29a)” (Depths of Yonah 2:4).
With the swift arrival of Purim in the coming weeks, we are witness to this Gemara in action, with a demonstration of the oft-overlooked aspect of our existence as the Jewish people in that, despite our loss of Hashem’s overtly manifest Shechinah, we recognize His involvement in our history and lives nonetheless. And so, we may take away from this week’s Parashah and the history of our people a marvelous lesson: we can understand Hashem’s Presence in our daily lives if we work at it. Like Seforno’s Chiddush, we may assert that we possess and are charged with developing and reaching heightened and re-earned levels of Kedushah in ourselves and our lives simply if we invest ourselves. What we will always be able to recognize is that since the Yemei HaMishkan and onward, despite Hashem’s concealment from the naked eye, He is there, and He cherishes our wanting to rebuild a relationship with Him as much as He did in the Midbar. Perhaps this is even what Rambam means in the oft-debated opening nine Mitzvot of Mishneh Torah (Mitzvot Asei 1-9) regarding the commandments of knowing and understanding, even reaching out to Hashem. It is simply a matter of effort and investment, which lies within ourselves, and which we are tasked with extolling if we wish to grow to the highest spiritual heights.