Parshat Terumah 5774/2014
Superbowl Sunday is as close to a national holiday as a
sporting event can be in this country.
Last year, over 108 million people watched the game, that’s a full third
of the population of the entire country.
In the last (2012) presidential election, it’s estimated some 126
million people voted. It’s nice to know
that the democratic process wins out against a ground game of carrying a ball
over a line without getting a klop on the kop, regarding participation, albeit
by less than 20%. Clearly, there is
something about this event that attracts attention, the question is whether it
has anything to do with the football game.
The remainder of Sefer Shemot, the Book of Exodus, offers us
a similar question. The bulk of Exodus
now will describe the design, creation, and assembly of the Mishkan, a portable
Holy Place where the priests will minister to God’s Presence with prayers and
sacrifices as the Israelites wander from place to place in the wilderness on
their way to the Promised Land.
Despite the lengthy and precise description of each part of
the Mishkan, from the walls to the pegs, the structure is meaningless and empty
until the tail end of the Book when God’s Presence fills it. The same is true of anything we build or create. Until we build the bookcase, it’s just a big
door jamb. Until kickoff, the Super Bowl
is just an occasion for socializing, tourism, and entertainment. And, by the way, after the game is over. The winning team returns home to its city
where, often, citizens celebrate them with a big parade and hoopla
downtown. I wonder why we can put up a
big parade for a football team and there’s not much chance for military
veterans returning from service in Iraq, Afghanistan, and elsewhere to walk
down the street to cheers and thanks?
As God begins to explain the design of the Mishkan, God
says, “Ve’asu li mikdash ve’shachanti betocham.” “Let them make for me a holy place and I will
dwell amongst them.” We expect God to
say, “Make me a holy place and I will dwell in it, betocho instead of betocham, in them.” But God does not say
that. The Chen-Tov explains that we
should not think that the most important parts of the Mishkan are its planks
and the various items inside. Rather,
the people should know that their first responsibility is to purify their
hearts, purify from the inside, so that the Shechinah, God’s Presence, will
live within them, within us.
We’re supposed to build the holiness and spirit within
ourselves first, and then that overflows into how we relate to others and to
the world. God teaches us this lesson
that the later thinkers put together by example, from the beginning of thinking
about the Mishkan. The first thing that
is described is the Ark, the place where the Holy Presence will be, the
innermost piece, rather than any of the walls or supports that surround it,
creation from the inside out.
We see that the journey of faith asks us to take not a ‘leap
of faith’ but rather a ‘leap of trust’.
If we can open to the possibility that God can and will guide us, and
like a trust fall be willing to allow ourselves to be carried, then we just
might be able to let go of much of the stress and tension of living that comes
from our need to measure and control. No
doubt, God asks the Israelites to build a Mishkan and to measure out each piece
to the cubit. There is value in
precision, delicacy, and care in all human endeavors.
But, we are not God.
We don’t have God’s eternal vision, and so we can choose God as our
guide, our shepherd, just like in Psalm 23, God is my shepherd, and I lack
nothing.
Putting trust in God, making God the ‘head coach’ as it
were, could be a lot like realizing that, maybe, in the end, the Superbowl
really is not about the game but
about the community of friends and family who get together to watch, that it’s
the people, and our hearts, that make the day special, the players who have
gutted it out all season to get to this point, the soldiers defending our
freedom who are watching from tents and barracks abroad, these are what are
important.
As the great Rabbi of Kotzk said, “Each of us must build a
Mishkan I our hearts, and God will live there.”