Parashat Vayakhel, Exodus 35:1-38:20

Too many of us feel we do not have a role to play in the Jewish community.

Years ago, when I first came to Canada, there was a television program that I found to be quite novel. It was a home repair show hosted by a woman named Mag Ruffman. Here was a woman who was both an actress and a licensed contractor. She eagerly tackled all sorts of projects, faithfully recording obstacles as well as successes. In the decade or so since that show was on the air, there has been an increase in the number of women involved in home improvement projects. There are DIY ( do it yourself) websites for women. It is even possible to purchase tools designed specifically for women's hands.

The novelty of women involved in construction is one of the outstanding features of this week's portion, Vayakhel. Women are specifically mentioned as having contributed material for the building of the mishkan (tabernacle). Beyond that, women took part in constructing items for the tabernacle. And all the skilled women spun with their own hands, and brought what they had spun, in blue, purple, and crimson yarns, and in fine linen. And all the women who excelled in that skill spun the goats' hair. (Exodus 35:25-26)

Before we get overly excited, realize that spinning and weaving were traditionally women's work. Dr. Elizabeth Wayland Barber, an archeologist who specializes in textiles, relates that evidence of these activities is found in early human societies. Most of us know of arrowheads and flint knives and may have even seen such artifacts in museums. Unlike these stone implements, cloth deteriorates quickly, but impressions left by cloth in clay have been unearthed, providing tantalizing remains of complex weaving patterns.

Early on, because of the easy compatibility of clothmaking with child care, women had almost total responsibility for producing the cloth and clothing in their societies.

Elizabeth Wayland Barber, Women's Work: The First 20,000 Years, p. 257

We know that spinning and weaving were traditionally women's work from a variety of pictorial sources such as on ancient pottery. There are ancient Greek and Roman murals showing women at looms while children play nearby. They might even have been the ancient equivalent of factory workers. The archeological evidence of loom weights and spindles – items that do not deteriorate – are a silent testimony to women’s work.

Other evidence speaks more loudly. Regarding the "Woman of Valor" (eshet chayil,) Proverbs 31:19 informs us that She sets her hands to the distaff;/ Her fingers work the spindle.

Producing and dyeing yarns, weaving, and embroidering textiles for the Tent of Meeting and officiating priests’ clothing thus provided an avenue for women of the Exodus account to participate in this public and communal religious practice. According to II Kings 23:7, women continued producing textiles as devotional service also during the time of the Jerusalem Temple: while working in a room within the Temple precinct…

Elizabeth Bloch-Smith, The Torah A Women's Commentary, p. 467

While we think of women's work as taking place in the home, spinning and weaving were very much communal, as artwork from ancient and medieval times attests. Women's role in general is traditionally defined as being in the private domain, but Vayakhel places women in the communal realm. Men and women, all whose hearts moved them (Exodus 35:22) donated items for the tabernacle and priestly vestments. The words men and women are constructed in an unusual manner in the Hebrew (anashim al nashim), which has come to the attention of a number of commentators. Sforno takes it to mean that the women bringing the gifts were accompanied by their husbands, who approved of their donation. Nachmanides says that the men were following the women's' example. Either way, it was a public act on the part of the women.

Too many of us feel we do not have a role to play in the Jewish community. Women feel alienated by particular traditions, Gays feel rejected by others. One group is too family-oriented, the other one is singles only, nobody is sensitive to those with special needs, or the elderly. We can all find an obstacle to set ourselves apart. Vayakhel is about what can be done achieved when the disparate elements come together.

The very name of the portion, Vayakhel, indicates a communal activity. The parasha begins by telling us that Moses then convoked (vayakhel) the whole Israelite community. (Exodus 35:1). The root of Vaykhel is khl, related to the word kehilla meaning community. Devoted people from both sexes and across all classes contribute to the creation of the tabernacle. Skilled individuals, men and women, transform the items into holy objects. Mundane tasks result in sacredness. Some of us have material goods to donate, others have skills, and still others contribute their presence. Everyone has a gift that can be put to God's service. Together these form the warp and weft of our modern Jewish tapestry.

I make pleasant songs and weave verses
because my soul longs for You.

Anim Zemirot (Shir HaKavod),
attributed to Rabbi Yehuda HeChassid of Regensburg

Shabbat shalom,
MS

Parashat Ki Tisa, Exodus 30:11-34:35

How is intimacy established and maintained?

I recently stumbled across an on-line game for babies. It's an internet version of the game "Peekaboo." The baby randomly hits keys and different cartoon animals pop up from behind various drawings on the computer screen. Every now and then an animal will reappear and say that nonsensical term "peekaboo."

Now, I can be enthralled by, and I must admit that I have come close to being addicted to, one or two computer games, but this particular game saddened me. It is not because I am too old to play it. Rather, the importance of Peekaboo is that it takes place in the real world and provides a marvelous contact between the players - usually an adult and an infant. How many other games can boast that they are meant for players aged 0-120?

The Swiss psychologist Jean Piaget would explain that "Peekaboo" is an example of object permanence. That is, an awareness that an object exists even when it is no longer seen. Piaget said that this awareness develops in infants at the age of 8-9 months. A baby looks at a favorite object; when it is hidden from view, the infant becomes upset. Substitute mom for an object and, according to Piaget, you know understand the anxious baby's cry when mom is no longer in sight.
This anxiety is similar to what we find this week in Ki Tisa. Moses has been gone on Mount Sinai for a long time, too long. The people are anxious and ask Aaron to create a golden calf for them. When the people saw that Moses was so long in coming down from the mountain, the people gathered against Aaron and said to him, "Come, make us a god who shall go before us, for that man Moses, who brought us from the land of Egypt — we do not know what has happened to him." (Exodus 32:1) Think of it as a security blanket or, better yet, as a teddy bear. The people need the security of seeing, of presence, to enforce their relationship.

They're not the only ones. Moses, so upset that the folks have gone this route has the same problem. After smashing the Ten Commandments, he's back on Mount Sinai to get Ten Commandments, version 2.0. He too has a crisis similar to his people. They needed to see Moses, who in turn needs to see God.

He [Moses] said, "Oh, let me behold Your Presence!" And He answered, "I will make all My goodness pass before you, and I will proclaim before you the name Lord, and the grace that I grant and the compassion that I show. But," He said, "you cannot see My face, for man may not see Me and live." And the Lord said, "See, there is a place near Me. Station yourself on the rock and, as My Presence passes by, I will put you in a cleft of the rock and shield you with My hand until I have passed by. Then I will take My hand away and you will see My back; but My face must not be seen."

Exodus 33:18-23

Here's a bit of a problem. Presence ensures security. Perhaps one reason the mishkan (tabernacle) is so important is because it symbolizes God's presence in the midst of Israel. Scholars maintain that the Golden Calf was not really an idol but a "footstool" for God. It was the people's symbol for God's presence. Nice try, wrong symbol. A face-to-face encounter establishes a relationship. Moses, who has had closer contact with God than anybody, needs that all-too-human bond. Hey, it ain't easy dealing with an invisible God. Moses needs the intimacy of a face-to-face encounter. The noun panim (face) occurs over a dozen times from Exodus 33:11 to the end of the parashah; the Hebrew term for "finding favor," literally "finding grace in your eyes," also occurs frequently in this section. Ki Tisa is imbued with the desire for intimacy while at the same time raising a question: How is intimacy established and maintained?

Moses has a unique relationship with God: The Lord would speak to Moses face to face (panim el panim), as one man speaks to another. (Exodus 33:11) Yet Moses still wants a close encounter, crying out: Oh, let me behold Your Presence! (Exodus 33:18) and is told … you cannot see My face, for man may not see Me and live. Moses can get so close and no closer. Yet no one would deny that Moses is as intimate with God as is humanly possible. But hold on, how can Moses speak with God face-to-face yet he cannot see God's face? Is this some sort of divine peekaboo?

Panim el panim is not that face-to-face tell-all interview that guarantees ratings during TV sweeps week. Speaking face-to-face implies a profound level of intimacy. (And yes, we read it as a metaphor as we do with all anthropomorphic descriptions of God.) Rambam describes it as direct contact without an intermediary. Nahum Sarna, reminds us that this same phrase is used in Deuteronomy 34:10, but the book of Numbers (12:8) calls this communication mouth to mouth.

The experience is personal and direct, not mediated through visions or dreams, and the message is always plain and straightforward, free of cryptic utterances.

Nahum Sarna, JPS Commentary on Exodus 33:11

The intimacy of panim el panim runs counter to what we learn in secular society where intimacy means that everything is revealed. We still crave that face-to-face encounter, though at times we seem to forfeit other aspects of intimacy. Is it mere coincidence that the biggest social network on the internet is called Facebook, which describes itself as "a social utility that connects you with the people around you"? Interestingly, some Facebook aficionados find out the hard way that not every aspect of their presence need be revealed to all. Who has not heard stories of job-seekers losing a plum position because of that indiscreet photo posted on Facebook? It was there for their buddies but the potential boss just happened to come across it in doing a reference check…

Our challenge today is to acknowledge the limits of panim el panim, the intimate encounter. What makes this an essential element of a relationship is respecting boundaries. Even in the deepest relationship there may be areas that are off-limits. The lesson here is that in a relationship we cannot know, nor do we need to know, everything about the other – be it a friend, a partner, a family member, or God.

Too often we start with the assumption that intimacy is based on knowledge. The more you know about someone the greater the intimacy. It sells papers and boosts ratings. Panim el panim teaches us that true intimacy is a bond derived from the understanding and appreciation of shared experience.

Shabbat shalom,
MS

Parashat Tetzaveh, Exodus 27:20-30:10

This Parasha has been generously sponsored by Diane Sacks, to honour her dad - a man of learning.

Who has not felt the twinges of jealousy, irrational as they may be?

Last week we looked at the powerful connection of siblings and how, ideally, the bonds of brothers and sisters form the foundation of community and family. Unfortunately, reality often falls short of the ideal. At times tremendous pressure is put on these bonds, which can bring them perilously close to snapping. Who has not known or experienced a situation of great difficulty with a loved one? The closer we are to the individual, the greater our vulnerability. The book of Genesis provides many such painful episodes, the most dramatic one, namely that between Joseph and his brothers, is the catalyst that brought us to Egypt.

At its core, the book of Exodus is about the formation of the Jewish people as a nation, the creation of group identity and cohesiveness. The leadership role falls within one family among three siblings: Moses, Aaron and Miriam. Their roles are not equal. We know that Moses has the greater leadership role. From the book of Exodus through the book of Deuteronomy, Moses appears in every single Torah portion – except for the one we read this week, Tetsaveh.

This week the Torah is concerned with priestly matters: the menorah and its proper lighting, the altar and sacrifices, but mainly the priests, their garments and the process of ordination. The focus thus is on Aaron and not Moses.

Naturally, this did not escape the notice of our eagle-eyed commentators. One tradition holds that Moses is absent from Tetsaveh because it is read at the time that is held to be Moses' yahrzeit, the seventh of Adar. A second tradition claims that Moses, a deeply humble man, bowed out of this parashah so that his brother Aaron might be in the limelight. Yet a third perspective states that Moses’ absence this week is punishment due to his jealousy. What on earth could cause Moses to be jealous? The fact that his brother Aaron was chosen to be the kohen gadol, the high priest.

Think about it: Moses, who was chosen from among all the Israelites to be God's representative before pharaoh, who held the Ten Commandments in his hands, who communed with God panim el panim (face to face), got his kishkes (guts) in a knot because Aaron was chosen to wear fancy clothes, fire up the barbeque, and clean up after the meal. True, Aaron's role as priest was to be the ritual mediator between the people and God. Moses did this too, but with greater freedom than Aaron's limited role. Why the jealousy?

The only answer is that Moses was human. Who has not felt the twinges of jealousy, irrational as they may be? We can speculate endlessly on what would trigger such a reaction in Moses, but that would be a futile exercise. Better to look at this all too common failing and see our own reflections.

Too often, jealousy results from frustration and dissatisfaction with who we are. This was stated eloquently by Morrie Schwartz in one of his conversations with his student Mitch Albom. Though he was commenting about whether he was jealous of youth, his answer holds true for all of us:

…the issue is to accept who you are and revel in that .... You have to find what's good and beautiful in your life as it is now.

Mitch Albom, Tuesdays with Morrie

Or as Ben Zoma teaches in Pirke Avot: "Who is wealthy? The one who is happy with his portion." (Avot 4:1)

The Talmud teaches us that there are only two exceptions to jealousy: "Rabbi Jose ben Honi said: A person is jealous, except of his child and his disciple." (Sanhedrin 105b) What makes these two relationships resistant to the forces of jealousy is that the individual has a stake in their success: You have helped them get where they are.

Perhaps this explains the beginning of our parashah. It contains the odd structure: You shall bring forward (hakrev eilechah) your brother Aaron (Exodus 28:2), or literally: You shall draw near to you…. It continues by saying you shall make garments for him (Exodus 28:2), you shall make a breastplate (Exodus 28:15) as well as other items of the priestly wardrobe, concluding with: And for Aaron's sons also you shall make tunics, and make sashes for them, and make turbans for them, for dignity and adornment. Put these on your brother Aaron and on his sons as well; anoint them, and ordain them and consecrate them to serve Me as priests. (Exodus 28:40-41) "You" refers to the unnamed Moses, who is being given a stake in things. This helps to lessen his very human feelings of envy, easing the tension and transforming him from the one who withdraws in jealousy to the one who eagerly rejoices in his brother's success.

Emotions are powerful forces, but they are within our control. Properly channeled they can even contribute to the greater good. A jealous sibling turns into a zealous supporter. A situation that could have weakened family and communal ties becomes a lesson in cooperation. Moses was able to overcome his envy through Divine guidance and so can we. The yearning to do so is eloquently stated by an anonymous Talmudic sage: "May it be your will Adonai our God that jealousy of us overcome no one, and jealousy of no one overcome us." (Yerushalmi Berachot 7d)

Shabbat shalom,
MS

Parashat Terumah, Exodus 25:1-27:19

The establishment of the Tabernacle is the creation of a family.

Back before "chick lit" and "chick flicks" became fashionable, there were "girly books." I never called them that but being the only female in my nuclear family, I am told that this is what some of my favorite childhood books are. At the top of the list would be Louisa May Alcott's Little Women, a story of four sisters, each with a clearly drawn personality. Interestingly, Alcott had three sisters of her own. Another book on this list would be Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen. The main character, Elizabeth Bennett, has four sisters. Come to think of it, in Austen's Sense and Sensibility there are three sisters. Despite some tensions here and there, overall the sisters in these novels fulfill the immortal words of Sister Sledge (count 'em - four sisters):

Ev'ryone can see we're together
As we walk on by
(FLY!) and we fly just like birds of a feather
I won't tell no lie
(ALL!) all of the people around us they say
Can they be that close
Just let me state for the record
We're giving love in a family dose
We are family
I got all my sisters with me…

Bernard Edwards and Nile Rodgers, We Are Family

As someone who does not have a sister, it is obvious that the bond that exists between female siblings is different from that which exists between sister and brother. As author Toni Morrison describes it: "A sister can be seen as someone who is both ourselves and very much not ourselves - a special kind of double." Or in anthropologist Margaret Mead's analysis: "Sisters is probably the most competitive relationship within the family, but once the sisters are grown, it becomes the strongest relationship." This was further expanded upon by sociologist Marcia Millman, author of The Perfect Sister: What Draws Us Together, What Drives Us Apart:

"Despite all these challenges, most adult women expect to be close to their sister, and it’s upsetting when they’re not getting along… Sisters are an important part of women’s emotional lives. Adult sisters often come together around shared experiences, such as childbearing and caring for elderly parents… When parents get sick, you’re drawn into a relationship with your siblings again… After parents die, siblings become even more important emotionally, because they are your only tie to your childhood. "

Marcia Millman, UC Santa Cruz Currents online

For those of us who lack female siblings, there exists the chance of creating sisterly relationships, as is made clear by Rebecca Wells in Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood. Here the four characters who make up the sisterhood even carry their "sisterly" responsibility into the next generation. Though the four women in this novel develope their relationship in childhood, it is possible to forge such sisterly bonds as adults.

In the Torah, the only sisterly relationship we know about is that between Leah and Rachel; and the Torah is mainly silent about their relationship. Perhaps that is why it is so startling to come across the word "sister" in this week's Torah portion.

For one thing, it seems so out of place. Parashat Terumah is all about the construction of the mishkan, the Tabernacle where God will dwell among the Israelites (Exodus 25: 8). Most of parashat Terumah is taken up with the description of its construction, the materials to be used and how to put everything together. In fact, the construction of the Tabernacle will be the main focus of the rest of the book of Exodus. It is a do-it-yourself instruction book for creating sacred space. What do siblings have to do with this? It is all in the directions for putting things together:

As for the tabernacle, make it of ten strips of cloth; make these of fine twisted linen, of blue, purple, and crimson yarns, with a design of cherubim worked into them. The length of each cloth shall be twenty-eight cubits, and the width of each cloth shall be four cubits, all the cloths to have the same measurements. Five of the cloths shall be joined to one another, and the other five cloths shall be joined to one another. Make loops of blue wool on the edge of the outermost cloth of the one set; and do likewise on the edge of the outermost cloth of the other set: make fifty loops on the one cloth, and fifty loops on the edge of the end cloth of the other set, the loops to be opposite one another. And make fifty gold clasps, and couple the cloths to one another with the clasps, so that the tabernacle becomes one whole.

Exodus 26:1-6

This is where reading a translation gets frustrating, because what we're looking for just doesn't show up in the English. In Hebrew it is evident in the term joined to one another or even just one another. The Hebrew phrase reads chobra isha el achota, "a woman joined to her sister."Obviously, this must be a technical term because the commentators ignore it. Ibn Ezra, the philological expert, explains that this phrase is used with objects that are feminine nouns. (Similarly, the masculine term ish el achiv "a man and his brother" is used in Exodus 25:20 to describe the positioning of the two golden cherubim on top of the ark.) While this is straightforward and logical, it does not convey the beauty and poetry of the phrase. These objects may be joined to each other (Exodus 26:3), opposite one another (Exodus 26:5), or as it appears one more time in Exodus 26:17: parallel to each other. Terming it as isha el achota, a "woman to her sister," creates an image of support that is far beyond sewing cloths together, or lining up planks. It says something deeper about this building, this mishkan (tabernacle), where God's presence will dwell.

At the very beginning of the parashah, we are told that the mishkan and its furnishings will be built out of items that are freewill gifts. Everything in this Tabernacle is given with love; everything has meaning beyond its intrinsic material value. We often speak of items that are important to us as having sentimental value. Not so here; the act of giving something freely bestows upon it a spiritual value.

The act of building the Tabernacle draws us into a closer relationship with God, a familial relationship. There are many ways of symbolizing our relationship with the Divine. Often it is viewed as a parent-child relationship. At times, it is also a spousal relationship. Now, with the building of the tabernacle there is the potential for a sibling relationship. The very walls of the mishkan reflect this - it is the closeness of isha el achota "a woman to her sister." (If a feminine image of the mishkan sounds far-fetched, take a look at the Talmud's description of how the curtains draped over the Tabernacle. "The School of R. Ishmael taught: What did the Tabernacle resemble? A woman who goes in the street and her skirts trail after her." Shabbat 98b)

Interestingly, this odd phrase isha el achota, appears in one other book of the Bible. When the prophet Ezekiel has his vision of God and four heavenly creatures, each with four faces and four wings, he describes how Each one's wings touched those of the others (Ezekiel 1:9); the Hebrew is almost the same phrase found in Exodus 26:3 joined to one another, both meaning "a woman joined to her sister." Ezekiel continues to describe the structure of these creatures, their wheeled conveyance and an expanse above their head: Under the expanse each had one pair of wings extended toward the others (isha el achota)…(Ezekiel 1:23). A little bit later, Ezekiel recounts: Then a spirit carried me away and behind me I heard a great roaring sound: "Blessed is the Presence of the Lord, in His place," with the sound of the wings of the creatures beating one against the other (isha el achota)…(Ezekiel 3:12-13). Here, we find the phrase isha el achota in a situation that makes Ezekiel aware of his proximity to the Divine presence. The words spoken by these heavenly creatures are so stirring that they have become part of the kedusha, the blessing in the amidah that praises God's Holiness, recited only with a minyan, a community, present. Both in the construction of the Tabernacle and in Ezekiel's vision, we find the unusual phrase isha el achota "a woman to her sister" in situations of drawing near to God.

The purpose of the mishkan is to give God a symbolic presence within the community. Cassuto explains it as being "a tangible symbol of God's presence among them." This Divine "dwelling place" denotes a relationship with God. Beforehand, God dealt with individuals: the patriarchs and matriarchs, Moses, etc. Now, when we join together and function as a community, God will be in our midst. We are all aware of the importance of community in Judaism. Certain things can only take place in a community; it is the preferred mode for prayer and study. Community provides us the opportunity to say "Blessed is the Presence of the Lord, [from] His place…" Terumah teaches that joining together brings God nearer to us. Joining together can be done in many ways. If done wholeheartedly with mutual support as "a woman to her sister," God's presence, the shekhinah, dwells in our midst. Some of us are the cloth of the tabernacle, others are the planks, but we are incomplete as individuals. We must be joined to one another (isha el achota) with the clasps, so that the tabernacle becomes one whole. (Exodus 26:6)

This is not something that happens automatically. The instructions for constructing the mishkan are long and detailed. As is described in Exodus 35, both men and women were involved in the different aspects of building the mishkan. Beyond erecting a structure, or even forming a community, the establishment of the mishkan is the creation of a family. Turning community into family requires sensitivity and energy. "I don't believe an accident of birth makes people sisters or brothers. It makes them siblings, gives them mutuality of parentage. Sisterhood and brotherhood is a condition people have to work at." (Maya Angelou)

We read in the Torah, and we know from our own lives, that we do not always succeed at this work. Usually, hopefully, the bonds that keep us joined to one another, the clasps that make us a whole, are sturdy enough to withstand the pressure. When we can build on these bonds of sisterhood and brotherhood, we too create an environment for holiness in our midst.

How good and pleasant it is
That [siblings] dwell together. …
There the Lord ordained blessing,
Everlasting life. (Psalm 133:1, 3)

Shabbat shalom,
MS