Parshat Pikudei—indeed much of the Book of
Exodus—describes the Israelites’ barn-raising, or rather Mishkan-raising. The
Mishkan (Wilderness Tabernacle) is a home, a dwelling place for God, and the
Israelites build it much as a Wikihouse comes into being: it is the democratization
of production. How so? First, the entire community provides the materials and
labor. Pikudei opens with a materials
list. Here are a few snatches:
All the gold that was used
for the work… came to 29 talents and 730 shekels by the sanctuary weight. The silver…
came to 100 talents and 1,775 shekels by the sanctuary weight… The copper… came
to 70 talents and 2,500 shekels…
The ephod was made of gold,
blue, purple, and crimson yarns, and fine twisted linen. They hammered out
sheets of gold and cut threads to be worked into designs among the blue, the
purple, and the crimson yarns, and fine linen…
The breastpiece…was square…
They set in it four rows of stones. The first row was a row of carnelian,
chrysolite, and emerald; the second row: a turquoise, a sapphire, and an
amethyst; the third row: a jacinth, an agate, and a crystal; and the fourth
row: a beryl, a lapis lazuli, and a jasper….
(Exodus 38:24-29, 39:2-3,
8-13)
Next, Torah tells us that the people brought all the
components of the Tabernacle to Moses:
…with the Tent and all the
furnishings: its clasps, its planks, its bars, its posts, and its sockets; the covering
of tanned ram skin, the covering of dolphin skins, and the curtain for the
screen; the Ark the Pact and its poles, and the cover; the table and all its
utensils, and the bread of display; the pure lampstand, its lamps—lamps in due
order—and all its fittings, and the oil for lighting; the altar of gold, the
oil for anointing, the aromatic incense, and the screen for the entrance of the
Tent; the copper altar with its copper grating, its poles and all its utensils,
and the laver and its stand; the hanging of the enclosure, its posts and its sockets,
the screen for the gate of the enclosure, its cords and its pegs—all the
furnishings for the service of the Tabernacle, the Tent of Meeting… (Exodus
39:33-40)
And finally, it’s barn-raising day: On the first day of the
tenth month, the Israelites gathered together as a community to set up the
Tabernacle of the Tent of Meeting (Exodus 40:2).
The S’fat Emet (Rabbi
Yehudah Leib Alter of Ger, 1847–1905) sees a lovely connection between this
account of the Mishkan barn-raising and the account of Creation. Torah tells us
that after completing the work of Creation, God blessed the world and declared it
holy (Genesis 2:2-3). The same language—of work, of completion, of blessing—is
here in Parshat Pikudei, as well.
All the labor of the
Tabernacle was completed; the Israelites did just as God had commanded Moses; such
did they do…
When Moses saw that they had
performed all the work—as Adonai had commanded, so they had done—Moses blessed
them. (Exodus 39:32, 43)
The S’fat Emet notes that God had already blessed all of
creation (in the second chapter of Genesis) so there was no need to bless
Israel separately. This Moses does when they close the circle of creation by
constructing the Tabernacle.
But it seems to me that there is also a fundamental
difference between the two blessings. God blesses creation as a natural,
self-sustaining order; that is, for its existence and for its potential. Moses,
in contrast, blesses the people for
what they do as God’s partners in the
on-going enterprise of Creation. These distinctive blessings come together
here: As God created a home for people—this world—so the people create a
dwelling place for God, drawing God’s Presence into their lives.
The building of homes is sacred work, be it a dwelling place
for the divine or a house for people to shelter from the elements, raise a
family, and find refuge from the hurricanes of life, real and metaphorical.
Homes are incubators for loving and nurturing relationships, and for learning
values that send us out into the world to help others and make the world a
better place for our having lived. Homes are the places we return to when we
are weary, disillusioned, grieving, or in search of support. Just as the
Tabernacle is a place where the Israelites can come home to God, we hope that
our homes are all that for us, as well. We hope that our homes are places of
blessing.
But what of those who lack a roof over their head? The
scourge of homelessness in our country continues unabated because we, as a
society, have failed to affirm the democratization of living with a roof over
one’s head. The status quo is morally, religiously, and socially unacceptable,
and groups like Habitat for Humanity have taught us that where there is good
will, there is a way. There are other creative solutions. Here are a few:
In addition to involving ourselves in spreading the blessing
of home so more have roofs over their heads, those of us who have a permanent
or even temporary address (after all, the Mishkan moved around as the people
journeyed through the wilderness) face the challenge of turning our house or
apartment or room into a home. Gratitude is a good start, as is being a
blessing to those who live under the same roof with us.
© Rabbi Amy Scheinerman
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