February 28th: Terumah
THIS WEEK IN THE TORAH
Rabbi David E. Ostrich
Terumah begins the most anachronistic section of the Torah: the instructions for and the construction of the Mishkan, the “tent temple” that our ancestors used for worship in the wilderness and for the first few centuries in the Promised Land. Later replaced by the Temple of the Lord in Jerusalem, our Tradition never looks forward to re-assembling this Mishkan. If we ever restore the sacrificial service, Tradition teaches that it will be in a new Temple—and not in a new tent.
Why, then, do we spend so much time—five Torah portions!—focusing on details that we will never need again? The simple answer is that this comes with the territory when one reveres an ancient text. It is in the Torah, and we read the Torah. The task becomes one of finding meaning, and here are three lessons the text can teach.
In Terumah, the initial phase of the construction, we have the building campaign.
“The Lord spoke to Moses, saying: ‘Tell the Israelite people to bring Me gifts; you shall accept gifts for Me from every person whose heart is so moved to donate. These are the gifts that you shall accept from them: gold, silver, and copper; yarns of blue, purple, and crimson; fine linen, goats’ hair, tanned ram skins, dolphin skins, and acacia wood; oil for lighting, and spices for the anointing oil and for the aromatic incense; lapis lazuli and other stones for setting—for the ephod and for the breastplate. And let them make me a sanctuary that I may dwell among them.” (Exodus 25.1-8)
From this detailed instruction, we can learn a lesson about the value and dynamic of giving. The story suggests that Israelites of every economic level were encouraged to give—and that both large and small gifts were welcome and appreciated. A little bit of gold here, and a little bit of gold there, and soon there was more than enough to cover the ark and the incense altar and the tent poles and carrying poles. All the gifts worked together to complete the Mishkan.
Actually, people were so enthusiastic that the building campaign was oversubscribed. In a few weeks (Parshat Vayakhel), we shall read about how Moses has to ask the people to stop bringing gifts. The artisans say to Moses, “‘The people are bringing more than is needed for the tasks entailed in the work that the Lord has commanded to be done.’ Moses thereupon had this proclamation throughout the camp: ‘Let no man or woman make further effort toward gifts for the sanctuary!’ So the people stopped bringing; their efforts had been more than enough for all the tasks to be done.” (Exodus 36.5-7)
A second lesson comes from comparing the specificity of God’s instructions in different situations. In this case, God goes into great detail, specifying the exact dimensions and specific building materials of the Mishkan and all of its furnishings. Contrast this to God’s instructions to Abram in Lech Lecha—telling him to leave his father’s house and go to the Land of Canaan. In that case, no details are included: the route, timing, destination within Canaan, and who is going along—all the travel details—are left completely to Abram’s discretion.
Perhaps the reason for this difference is obvious: sometimes the details matter, and sometimes they are not as important. We all hear the popular advice about “not sweating the details,” and this is certainly true for many situations. I remember one summer in particular where I was the supervising educator at the Jacobs Camp in Mississippi. In a spurt of great enthusiasm, I wrote lesson plans for every class, for every teacher, and thought it was great. The problem was that this micro-managing deprived the talented and enthusiastic teachers of the creative energy that is a big part of the camp experience; the program that summer was rather lackluster—and all because of my over-functioning. Here was a case where sweating the details—and not trusting other enough to do a good job—was a problem.
On the other hand, there are times when the details just have to be sweated. In Numbers 20, God tells Moses to speak to the rock and produce water for the thirsty Israelites. Moses hits the rock and suffers major repercussions. The fact that God had, in a previous situation, instructed Moses to hit a rock for water is no excuse. God is specific; Moses disobeys; and in this case, the details make a big difference. Moses is not allowed to enter the Promised Land.
A more modern and tragic example is the catastrophe of the Space Shuttle Challenger. It was cooler than expected that January morning in 1986, and the seals that kept the fuel contained in the tanks contacted with the low temperature. The people in charge thought that a few degrees would not make a difference, but just a minute after lift-off, rocket fuel leaked and was ignited by the exhaust. The spacecraft exploded, and an exciting and “routine” mission became a disaster. Seven brave explorers lost their lives.
Sometimes, the details are less than important, while other times, they are manifestly important. The key lies in knowing the difference.
A third lesson lies in the charge that God gives to the Israelites. Yes, bring the various gifts, but notice the purpose: “And let them make me a sanctuary that I may dwell among them.” (Exodus 25.8) The purpose of the gifts is not obeisance but rather hospitality. The purpose of the Mishkan is to make God feel at home in the Israelite community. We can certainly understand this in terms of our synagogue—how we work for a place that is conducive to holiness and reflects respect for God and our holy community. It should also be a metaphor for the ways we construct our community and society—that we should act in ways that reflect our holy relationship with the Eternal, making God feel at home in our midst.
Thus do ancient details lead to modern insights. It is the process of Torah.