The virtual mikdash

 T’rumah

Ex. 25:1-27:19

 

Précis: As the Israelites continue their journey through the wilderness, God tells Moses to ask the people for gifts to build the Tabernacle. “T’rumah” (voluntary donations) of fine metals, yarns, skins, and woods are offered by the People. God gives Moses precise instructions as to the interior and exterior construction of the mishkan (tabernacle). Specific items include an altar for burnt offerings, a curtain (parochet) to separate the main room from an inner sanctum, elaborate candlesticks, incense burners, and other tools. There will be a special Ark to be placed in an area called the Holy of Holies to house the tablets of the Ten Commandments. Precise measures are given for all spaces as well as specific materials designated for the composition of the mishkan.

 

 

Ex. 25:8 “And let them make Me a sanctuary, that I may dwell among them.”

            Rashi tells us that “mikdash” (here translated as “sanctuary”) means a place of holiness. During the past year, most of us have been deprived of our own “mikdash” due to the Covid pandemic. How can this verse, focused on a structure for use by all, be helpful at these difficult times?

            I think that the important part of the verse is the concluding clause: “that I may dwell among them.” It does not state that God will dwell in the mikdash, but rather that the creation of the mikdash will provide a means for Him to be among all the people. This is a critical distinction.  Our synagogue buildings may be largely if not entirely empty, but we are finding ways and means to make sure that we can acknowledge God's continuing presence among us. We do not believe that the Creator has a physical manifestation. How far is it from the concept of a transcendental (beyond human senses) God to a “virtual” community which gathers to honor Him through communal prayer via modern technology?

            Yes, we are for now largely barred from our own buildings, but we must continue to be a community through the means which are available to us. May we be able, soon, to return to our shuls and join together in person in prayer and fellowship. 

The Stranger

 Mishpatim

Ex. 21:1 - 24:18

 

Précis: Having received the Ten Commandments (in the previous parasha), Moses now reveals ordinances (mishpatim) needed to implement a comprehensive system of laws. The first group of commandments (mitzvot) relate to the rights of servants (slaves), followed by rules about murder, crimes against parents, personal injury law, offenses against property, and bailment. A list of moral offenses follows, including seduction, witchcraft, sexual perversion, polytheism, and oppression of the “widow, the orphan, and the stranger among you.” The parasha also includes the command to observe a sabbatical year, the Shabbat, and then lists the requirements for the observance of the pilgrimage festivals (Passover, Shavuot, and Sukkot). The command not to boil a kid in its mothers’ milk (a key proof text for the laws of kashrut) is mentioned, and at the conclusion of the parasha, we find a ceremony where the People, represented by Moses and 70 elders, have an encounter with the Divine Presence and accept the laws and the Covenant.

 

Ex. 22:20: “You shall not wrong a stranger or oppress him, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt.”

            How we treat strangers (“the other”) is repeated so often in the Torah that we might say that our tradition is fixated on how we treat them. The Talmud reminds us that the Torah tells us not to wrong the stranger at least 36 times. No other commandment is repeated as often.

            Perhaps this is because of Jewish history. Abraham was a stranger (a “resident alien”) when he settled in Canaan. Jacob spent much of his life with his uncle Laban, and died in Egypt. Joseph’s adult life is in Egypt. Moses and Joshua lead the people who were strangers in Egypt to a land of which they had no knowledge. History is replete with Jews viewed as “the stranger” in many lands during the times in which the Mishna and Talmud were written, and throughout the rest of our historical record.

            But to whom and to what does this verse apply? The Hebrew word for “stranger” in this verse is “ger” which can mean a convert (ger tzedek) or a resident alien (ger toshav). Many commentators refer to the first, more limited interpretation. But the author of Sefer Hahinukh, a 13th century Spanish commentary attributed to Rabbi Aharon HaLevi of Barcelona, provides a source for the broader meaning: “The precept applies at all times and places . . . We should learn from this valuable precept to show compassion to anyone not in his (or her) hometown, far from friends, just as we observe that the Torah admonishes us to show compassion to all in need.” His belief was not limited to Jews or non-Jews, nor was it limited to those living legally or illegally in the land. Everyone deserves compassion. That’s to whom this commandment refers.

            What this mitzvah applies to has had a similarly diverse understanding among the commentators. The narrower interpretation posits that it should be understood in economic terms.

            But a broader interpretation suggests this also commands us to avoid all forms of abuse. Nahama Leibowitz points out:

            “[T]he memory of your own humiliation is by itself no guarantee that you will not oppress the stranger in your own country once you have gained independence and left it all behind you . . . On the contrary, how often do we find that the slave or exile who gains power and freedom, or anyone who harbors the memory of suffering to himself or his forebears, finds compensation for his former sufferings, by giving free rein to his tyrannical instincts, when he has the opportunity to lord it over others?” (Studies in Shemot, 384).

           How then are we to treat those who are “strangers” among us? This mitzvah commands us to respect them and afford them the dignity to which all humans are entitled. We are all made in God’s image.