Creation and Creativity

This week’s Torah portion, Pekudei, (Ex. 38:21 – 40:38) is the last portion in the book of Exodus.  It gives a detailed accounting of the materials used in the building of the Tabernacle, and describes its assembling.  In the final verses of the book of Exodus, we are told that God’s presence, in the form of a pillar of cloud, comes to dwell in the sanctuary.  This monumental event is described as follows, “When Moses had finished the work, the cloud covered the Tent of Meeting and the Presence of the Lord filled the Tabernacle” (Ex. 40:33-34).  

The Hebrew reads, “Va’y’chal  Moshe et ha’m’lacha”.  Its words are reminiscent of Genesis 2:1, in which God finished the work of Creation just before Shabbat: “Va’y’chal Elohim…m’lachto” – “And God finished His work”.

There are many ways in which the Israelites’ construction of the Tabernacle is analogous to God’s creation of the world. Here is one to consider on this Shabbat eve: What does it mean to be created in God’s image?  I believe it means that we are like God in that we have been given the power to create.  We are able to envision and build works of great beauty and meaning.  These former slaves, whose previous building experience had been hard labor in constructing cities for the glory of a Pharaoh, have now, of their own free will and spirit, created a place where they may worship the indwelling presence of God.  As they did, so may our own work reflect God’s glory, and may God’s presence dwell within our body of work as it dwelt in the Tabernacle in the wilderness.

Ideas and Actions

This week’s Torah portion, Vayakhel (Ex. 35:1 - 38:20) once again takes up the theme of the building of the Tabernacle.  But what is left to tell?  God’s last words to Moses on Mount Sinai were that the people were to refrain from work on the seventh day and observe a Shabbat of rest.  The narrative then turns to the incident of the Golden Calf, and the re-establishment of the covenant between God and Israel. 

Vayakhel almost exactly the instructions for building the Tabernacle that were given in Torah portion Terumah, though the order varies somewhat.  This time, instead of God speaking the words to Moses, it is Moses speaking to the Israelites, and the verbs indicate completed actions rather than prescriptive directions.

The classical commentators are puzzled by this repetition.  The Torah is usually very terse; why repeat this long list of building information twice?  The Etz Chaim Torah Commentary says that one commentator suggests that God so loved the idea of a home to dwell among the Israelites that the details were repeated.  Another suggests that the first set of instructions shows God’s enthusiasm for the Tabernacle, and the second show the enthusiasm of the Israelites.  I suggest a third explanation.  There is a world of difference between the planning and the execution of any venture.  T.S. Eliot writes in his poem “The Hollow Men”, “Between the conception/And the creation/Between the emotion/And the response/Falls the Shadow”.    No matter how grand the concept and how ardent the response, the second telling affirms that the Tabernacle is no longer an idea, it is a building.  Judaism is often described as a religion of actions.  Ideas are necessary but they are incomplete without the follow-through.

Giving and Taking

This week’s Torah portion, Terumah (Ex. 25:1 – 27:19) as well as the two weekly portions that follow it, provide specific instructions for building a Tabernacle to worship God, and in which God’s presence will actually dwell among the people of Israel.   Every detail is laid out: the materials, the colors of the fabrics, the size and shape of each item which will be built and used.  And once the sanctuary is built, God will dwell there among the people of Israel.

All this specific description seems foreign to the God we have come to know up till this point in the book of Exodus.  God has seemed determined to be formless and transcendent; a pillar of fire here and a cloud upon a mountain there.  Why is God suddenly acting like one of the Ancient Near Eastern deities for whom their worshipers built palaces?  Perhaps it is because the Israelites needed it.

Modern Torah commentator Umberto Cassuto writes that at Mount Sinai, the people felt God’s presence, but “once they set out on their journey, it seemed to them as though the link had been broken, unless there were in their midst a tangible symbol of God’s presence among them.  It was the function of the Tabernacle to serve as such a symbol”.   

Common sense would tell us that God doesn’t need a sanctuary in which to dwell; God’s presence fills the whole universe.  But we need material objects to remind us of God’s incorporeal presence. Even though the Torah portion begins, “Bring Me gifts”, the Tabernacle is the gift God gives to Israel, not the other way around.

The Feelings of the Stranger

This week’s Torah portion, Mishpatim, (Ex. 21:1 – 24:18) is a compendium of all kinds of laws: civil, criminal, and ritual.  But one moral dictum is repeated twice in this portion and many more times throughout the rest of the Torah.  Exodus 22:20 states, “You shall not wrong or oppress a stranger, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt.”  And Exodus 23:9, only eighteen verses later, reads, “You shall not oppress a stranger, for you know the feelings of the stranger, having yourselves been strangers in the land of Egypt.” 

The great medieval commentator Rashi explains that in the first verse, to wrong a stranger means to taunt him, and to oppress him means to take advantage of him, for example by stealing his money.  In the second instance, Rashi comments on the word “feelings”, saying, and “…because you know how hard it is for him when people oppress him”.  

For either the Torah or a classic commentator to remark on feelings is an extraordinary departure from the norm.  It further indicates the importance of this precept and it brings the message home in a way that intellectual reasoning cannot do.  If oppression feels bad to you, then it also feels bad to any person or people who are being oppressed.  To be able to put yourself in the place of another and imagine their pain is not an easy task, but the Torah tells us—over and over again—that it is something we have to do.

A Diner to Remember

I thought I was pretty familiar with this part of New Jersey.  My parents lived here for almost thirty years, and I lived here myself for a short time about five years ago.  I certainly thought I was familiar with the establishment called the Americana Diner on Route 130 in East Windsor.  I have eaten there for years.  As I remembered it, it was your typical New Jersey diner with a ten page menu, breakfast available all day, good burgers and fries.  So now that we live here, I brought the Other Family Human in for what I thought would be a typical New Jersey diner meal. 

The building certainly looked as it always had from the outside, but looking in the windows from the parking lot, I could see they had remodeled.  The booths with the faux leather coverings were gone.  There were tables with comfortable chairs and the lighting was soft and stylish.  But the real shock came when I saw the menu.  Grass-fed beef.  Locally purchased organic vegetables.  Fresh bread and pastries baked in-house.  What was this?

Well, they still consider themselves a diner.  In fact, the place was named best diner in New Jersey by the New Jersey Star-Ledger newspaper.  Owner Constantine Katsifis writes in his bio on the diner's website, "Constantine is working diligently to change the paradigm in what we expect in a restaurant and improving our quality of life with better nutrition."  Better nutrition at a diner? You'd better believe it. We got over our surprise and ordered dinner.  Our plates were works of art to behold and empty when we were finished.  The food was fantastic. We'll be back.  You think you know a place and then you find you were wrong.

What The Hay?!

 Take a close look at the photograph.
Early yesterday afternoon the snow began falling.
To mark the rate and depth of the snow I kept my eye on -- well not steadily on but intermittently on - a bale of hay.
A standard bale of hay, in case you were wondering, is generally about two feet wide, four feet long, and about two feet tall.
Last night just before it got too dark to see about four inches of the top of the bale were still visible.

Here's your task now.
Find the bale of hay.
This picture was taken this morning.
It is now afternoon.
The landscape still looks the same.

Canadian Geese Are A Lot Like Cattle

Okay, so they don't have four hooves or cuds even though they may re-chew their food from time to time but over the past several days I've had multiple opportunities to observe thousands of Canadian Geese and during my life I've had thousands of opportunities to observe multiple varieties of cattle and my conclusion is that cows and geese have one particular and striking similarity.  Side bar comment -- That's about as long as I can make that opening sentence.  Now onward to the very short point of this post.  Geese when not flying and just standing around tend to all face the same direction.  So do cows except, of course, that cows are never flying.  They do on occasion jump but that's just over the moon.