Pequdei

Shemot 38:21-40:38

Mosheh's Retreat from Intimacy with God

Aryeh Bernstein, 5762

The ideas in this devar torah are the inspiration of my dear friend Rabbi Avi Katz Orlow, whom I thank for sharing with me his always insightful reading-between-the-lines of the Torah.

The last two parashiyot of the book of Shemot enumerate in excruciating detail the construction of the Mishkan (Tabernacle) and all its component parts, according to God's instructions a few weeks back, in Terumah-Tetzaveh. At the very end of our parashah, and, therefore, Sefer Shemot, the Torah says as follows (40: 34-35):

What is this whole dynamic between Mosheh's comings and goings, and the presence of the cloud and kevod Hashem? Moreover, what is the relationship of the two parts? Why does God's physical entry into the Mishkan prevent Mosheh's entrance not only into the Mishkan, but into the Ohel Moed as well? In order to begin to understand these issues, we need to clarify the purpose and symbolic meaning of the Ohel Moed and the Mishkan.

The motif of Mt. Sinai is strongly present in the Torah's description of the Ohel Moed and the Mishkan, each structure fulfilling a different aspect of the Sinai experience. The Ohel is a continuation of the mountain itself. In our parashah, the Ohel is covered with a cloud. This is exactly the description of Mt. Sinai at the scene of revelation (Shemot 24:15): "וַיַּעַל מֹשֶׁה אֶל הָהָר וַיְכַס הֶעָנָן אֶת הָהָר"-"And Mosheh ascended up to the mountain and the cloud covered the mountain". Just as Mt. Sinai is the locus of the reception of the law, so, too, the Ohel Moed is the place for understanding and interpreting the law. For example, when Tzelofhad's daughters make their plea to inherit their ancestral land, they stand before Mosheh "פֶּתַח אֹהֶל מוֹעֵד"-at the entrance to the Ohel Moed (Bemidbar 27:2). (The Ramban already compares the Ohel Moed to Mt. Sinai in his comments on our verse.)

The Mishkan is the locus of the experience of encountering God, as God says at the beginning of Parashat Terumah (Shemot 25:8): "וְעָשׂוּ לִי מִקְדָּשׁ וְשָׁכַנְתִּי בְּתוֹכָם"-"They shall build me a Mishkan and I will dwell among them". The Mishkan is where the sacrifices are offered, creating a relationship between God and the people. This, too, has been prefigured at Mt. Sinai. Just as kevod Hashem fills the Mishkan in our parashah, it was discernible at the top of the mountain (24:17): "וּמַרְאֵה כְּבוֹד יְהֹוָה כְּאֵשׁ אֹכֶלֶת בְּרֹאשׁ הָהָר לְעֵינֵי בְּנֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל"-"Now kevod Hashem appeared in the sight of the Israelites as a consuming fire on top of the mountain." It is the sancta of the Mishkan that have to be most scrupulously protected, lest one enter unprepared for the consequence of the encounter. This intensity infuses the law (the enterprise of the Ohel Moed) with purpose: as the Ohel Moed is the outer court to the Mishkan, as the mountain is the base for its peak, the law is a manageable translation of that intense, unutterable experience of being wordless in relationship with God.

It may help to understand this concept if we think about the ways we interact with other people. Generally, we speak with each other and, even though we try our best to understand what the other one means, we frequently miscommunicate. This is because language itself is a kind of violation. The words that I use have become meaningful to me through an infinite array of associations, which you can never hope to replicate. (If you did, you would be me, and we wouldn't want that.) There is another form of interaction, which is beyond communication and prior to communication. This is the kind of intense intimacy that two people can share entering into each other's eyes and discovering each other's vitality and vulnerability. Language is unnecessary and useless in such an interaction. This is the most real form of interaction, the kind that stands as a goal in all of our interaction, but, obviously, it is unfeasible the vast majority of the time; we simply couldn't bear that much intensity and truth, so we use language as a way to share meaning, while protecting our space. The challenge is to use language in a way that derives its energy and inspiration from that primary mode of interacting.

Sinai was the height of Mosheh's intense encounter with God. Up until and through Sinai, Mosheh's encounter with God was exclusive. He alone scaled the mountain, heard Torah from God for forty days, spoke to God, and even, in some sense, saw God (Shemot 33:23 and Bemidbar 12:8). The Torah highlights this exclusivity by pointing out that Mosheh approached closer and closer to God specifically when the people backed away. For example, in 20:17, after the people request that Mosheh be an intermediary, since the experience is too intense, the verse reads, "וַיַּעֲמֹד הָעָם מֵרָחֹק וּמֹשֶׁה נִגַּשׁ אֶל הָעֲרָפֶל אֲשֶׁר שָׁם הָאֱלֹהִים"-"and the people stood afar off and Mosheh approached into the murky cloud, where God was." Similarly, in 24:14, Mosheh ascends to the mountain of God to receive the first tablets, while the elders are instructed to stay back. Mosheh's intimate relationship with God comes specifically when the people are distanced. It is possible to understand, then, why the people experienced a meltdown when they thought they had lost Mosheh: without him, they had no access to the Divine. The construction of the Golden Calf was their ill-conceived, but desperate attempt to have access to something greater than themselves. This tragedy indicated that the mode of Mosheh interacting intimately with God and God's law, while the people are distant, was untenable. The people needed access to God and God's laws. However, with Mosheh so close, so intimate, there simply was no room. In order to enfranchise the people, Mosheh would have to back away some to make space.

How do our parashiyot respond to this situation? After enumerating the construction of the Tabernacle and all its parts, verses 17-33 of chapter 40 describe Mosheh putting everything in its proper place on Rosh Hodesh Nisan, beginning the Israelites' second year in the desert. (We always read this parashah on the Shabbat preceding Rosh Hodesh Nisan as part of our preparation for Pesah. How do you think this linkage contributes to our full celebration of Pesah?) This section is concluded with the following verse (40:33): "וַיָּקֶם אֶת הֶחָצֵר סָבִיב לַמִּשְׁכָּן וְלַמִּזְבֵּחַ וַיִּתֵּן אֶת מָסַךְ שַׁעַר הֶחָצֵר וַיְכַל מֹשֶׁה אֶת הַמְּלָאכָה"-"And he established the courtyard surrounding the Mishkan and the altar and he placed the veil at the gate of the courtyard; thus, Mosheh completed the work."

What's interesting is that, as we have discussed previously, Mosheh is notably left out of the functioning of the Mishkan. Betzal'el and Ahaliav constructed the whole thing and Aharon and his sons will be ministering the services. All Mosheh does is quietly put other people's handiwork in its place and put up a fence. Nevertheless, the Torah sums up the parashah by saying that "Mosheh completed the work", giving Mosheh the credit for a job in which he barely participated.

One of the most important themes of these parashiyot is Mosheh's diminishing of his own role. The textual beauty of it is that the Torah never explicitly describes it; it just subtly places it there for us to detect, such as in Parashat Tetzaveh, which we read a couple of weeks ago, in which Mosheh's name never appears. Mosheh quietly steps back, making room for a new class of leaders, the kohanim-of whom he is not a member-for gifted individuals, like Betzal'el and Ahaliav, and for more access to the whole people. This sacrifice of intimacy with God must have been painful for Mosheh and it is striking that the Torah gives no indication of resistance or jealousy on his part, although many midrashim imagine it. The Torah does subtly encode this sacrifice of Mosheh's as heroic, by giving him credit for the establishment of the Tabernacle, a task that really was out of his hands: "thus, Mosheh completed the work."

In last week's parashah, Ki Tissa, Mosheh prepared the second tablets for the people and passed much of the law over to them. Once this humanly-infused law (Mosheh, not God, chiseled these tablets-34:1) is public domain, Mosheh's role is diminished. He will approach the Ohel Moed to judge and seek God's word, to be sure, but once the law is turned over, he no longer possesses unique access to it. Mosheh gets credit for the Mishkan for making a fence, for establishing boundaries, for helping the people to understand where it would be safe to approach to take ownership for the law. In order to be coherent to the people, Mosheh had to come closer to them. When kevod Hashem filled the Mishkan, Mosheh stood just outside the law, with the people, showing them where the gate was, so that when they are able, they might be able to enter, walking with the law as their bridge into relating with God.