Sermon for Shabbat 16 March

Written by Rabbi Nicola Feuchtwang — 19 March 2024

 

There are 5 of us in my final year class at Leo Baeck College, and we are about as different as 5 people can be who have been studying the same things together for 5 years – in terms of our ages, our temperaments,  where we come from, what our families are like, our hobbies, and the topics we are trying to tackle in our dissertations.

 

There is, however, at least one thing we all have in common  – apart from hoping to be ordained as rabbis in a few months’ time!  Each of us had to give a public presentation last semester about our dissertation plans, and at some point in each talk, someone on faculty (and it wasn’t always the same teacher) would challenge the speaker about how this or that kabbalistic concept might be relevant and brought in – and they were then somewhat taken aback that, without exception, each of us responded to the Kabbalah question saying “I’d rather not go there!”

 

It feels important to point out that we are not completely anti-mysticism; it’s just that our ‘Introduction to Kabbalah & Mysticism’ course took place entirely online during lockdown, and was fairly traumatic for a number of reasons, leaving us all rather wary of the subject, even if we do acknowledge that the Jewish mystical tradition includes some important ideas.

 

One of these ideas is the notion that the world we inhabit ‘down here’ is a sort of  inferior replica of a celestial template of what the world should be like – a world that works as it is meant to.  And that certain places in our world connect better than others with that celestial world – including for example, the place where Jacob had his dream about the ladder; and of course Mount Sinai; and what became the site of the Temple in Jerusalem (which of course may also be the place where the Akedah took place)………

So here is the mystical concept which I think I can definitely “buy” into, even if it’s too enormous to contemplate most of the time:

The connection between ‘down here’ and ‘up there’ isn’t just a one-way connection….because what we do ‘down here’ can actually make a difference ‘up there’. 

This idea isn’t unique to Judaism.  In a sense, it lies behind every ritual practice of every religion and every superstition; every prayer, every sacrifice, every procession.   Whether or not I perform this particular action correctly may, just may, be of COSMIC SIGNIFICANCE, not just for me, but for the balance of the universe.

The idea is present even in our Progressive liturgy, even if we phrase it more gently, that a single deed may, as it were, in some way ‘tip the balance’ for myself and the whole world.[1]

 

What has this to do with the Torah portion we will be reading this morning?

We have spent the last several weeks reading from the book of Exodus, much of which contains the incredibly detailed and repetitive instructions for constructing the Mishkan, the portable sanctuary which will be the focus for the Israelites as they wander in the desert for 40 years. Today, finally, we read about its completion – supposedly 9 months to the day after the revelation at Sinai (mystical gestation, perhaps?) and just under a year since the Exodus, in time to mark our first Pesach in freedom.

Hasn’t this been the most perfect construction project ever?  – designed by God, project-managed and overseen by Moses; the best available architects and skilled workers; the most wonderful materials; everyone in the community getting involved in some way, even finished on schedule!

Why, though, does it need to take up over 20 chapters of the Torah?  After all, the creation of the whole Universe only takes one chapter. Ah! Say the commentators….just look at the creation story in Bereishit, and compare it with today’s text.   There are some remarkable parallels in the wording – or as the scholar Nahum Sarna put it:

“the account of the construction of the Tabernacle is …laced with phrases and expressions that unmistakably echo the Genesis creation story.”

 

(copied from Torah.com)[2]

Va-yar…

Ve-hinei….

Va-yevarech…

Vayechulu / vayechal…..

 

In other words, in some mystical sense, the design of the Mishkan is based on the same template as the universe!  According to this thesis, what happens in the Mishkan is not only meant to help the Israelites – and that means us too – to feel a sense of connection with God, but what happens in the Mishkan, and in relation to it, and in the community around it, really matters, and is indeed of cosmic significance.

 

I spoke last night about the challenge of knowing when a task is actually complete, or whether in fact, ‘every ending is a new beginning’.[3]   No task is ever fully complete because whether it is cooking a meal, a building project, writing a dissertation, a stage in our lives, as we finish one task, we must ready ourselves for the next one.

The Mishkan is not described as complete when the builders hand over the key.  It is truly complete only when the contribution of each member of the team has been  acknowledged, when  it is filled with ‘kavod Adonai’ (the glory of God) – and when it becomes something which travels with the people “throughout their journeys”.

That is why as we read about its completion, and we end the book of Exodus this morning, we will say to each other:

Chazak chazak ve-nit-chazeik – be strong, and let us strengthen one another – for the next phase of our journeys.

 

Shabbat Shalom.

 

 

 

[1] bKiddushin  as quoted in Blue, Lionel, and Jonathan Magonet, eds. Forms of Prayer for Jewish Worship. 7th ed. Reform Synagogues of Great Britain, 1977. 85

 

[2] Cohn, Naftali S.  The Tabernacle, the Creation, and the Ideal of an Orderly World

https://www.thetorah.com/article/tabernacle-creation-and-the-ideal-of-an-orderly-world  Accessed 15.3.2024

 

[3] Forms of Prayer 1977 p71