The Trail Map of Torah
Parashat Pekudei, Exodus 38:21–40:38
Rachel Wolf, Beth Messiah, Loveland, OH, guest contributor
I am an avid hiker. I like nothing better than to be “out there,” surrounded by the splendor of the natural world. And I am old-fashioned enough to love maps. Real maps. The kind you can hold in your hands, then fold up and put in your pocket. I love maps because I like to know where I am in the big picture of things. Tracing where I’ve been, the trails I’ve taken, then locating my present position, is the only way I know to navigate the road ahead. This is a good life practice for individuals, as well as for communities.
As a Jewish community, we are greatly blessed to have ancestors that saw value in recording their physical and spiritual journeys. This is our unique history, our legacy: the historical map of a very real journey with many miracles, sins, and trials, but also replete with ordinary tasks, accomplished with detailed record-keeping.
In Parashat Pekudei we come to the end of the book of Exodus. We are about to embark on our next journey through the book of Leviticus where there are many narrow passages to navigate, and not as many far-ranging vistas as in parts of Exodus or Deuteronomy. But before we move on, let’s check the map and take a quick look back at the trails we’ve recently trekked.
The book of Exodus, in my view, can be understood in three parts.
In the first part, Chapters 1–15, God, through Moses and Aaron, as well as by great signs and wonders, brings the family of Jacob, the family he particularly loves, out of bondage in Egypt to fulfill his promises to the fathers.
In the second part, Chapters 16–24, the children of Jacob become the nation of Israel. They arrive at the wilderness of Sinai, in view of the Mountain of God. Here, in Midbar Sinai, Israel receives and accepts their holy covenant with God; God cuts covenant with the Jewish nation. Through this blood offering, sprinkled on the people, God anchors his own Holy Name to the earth, by eternally joining his Name to a people of flesh. Henceforth, the God of all creation calls himself the God of Israel.
The third part, Chapters 25–40, focuses on the plans for, and then the building of, God’s Dwelling Place, the Mishkan (tabernacle or tent). Moses receives the plans on the mountain, then, starting in chapter 35, the people begin to build it.
The Campsite
We are now, still, camped at Midbar Sinai, the broad scruffy land at the foot of the Mountain of God. It’s been a year since we left Egypt (see 40:17). In Pekudei, we have the wonderful privilege of seeing the completion of all of the many specified parts needed for the Mishkan, and then, at the very end, its final construction.
But here we must pause. The immense star-packed sky above is heavy with hints of a wondrous plan beyond our ken. We must wonder then, why is this peculiar task, the building of the Mishkan, the central preparatory task of our people’s journey? There is not space here to explore this pivotal question. But its centrality in our inherited trail map is certainly related to the fact that this precisely designed tent is called the Dwelling Place (mishkan in Hebrew) of God in the midst of Israel.
A useful map is not Abstract Expressionist.
The design of the Mishkan’s structural parts and furnishings was anything but spontaneous or random. The gifted artisans chosen by the Lord to oversee this project had not heard of Abstract Expressionism, much less Jackson Pollock! Everything was done, start to finish, in a structured and orderly way, always prioritizing, and based directly on, the vision on the mountain.
Let’s look at God’s way of completing this project. God is the Master Architect. But, in fact, he is designing his own house! So he has at least two reasons to desire it to be finished according to his specs. Many of these principles can be applied to how we order our congregations.
It starts with a vision.
God commands Moses to come up to the mountain. There he is shown what I believe is a view of the heavenly temple, the heavenly city, God’s realm. The people are to make God’s earthly tent “according to all [the pattern] that I show you.” (25:9) This is a detailed pattern. The vision for the plan takes all of chapters 25 through 31.
The vision needs a visionary.
The vision is from God, but it is not given directly to the people. The people do not determine the vision by comparing prophetic dreams, nor by a vote. The vision is given to Moses, a man tried and tested by God. He is, like our Messiah, “a man of sorrow, acquainted with grief.” He is utterly faithful.
The visionary communicates the general vision to the people.
Moses gathers the whole congregation of Israel and tells them what the Lord has commanded. But he speaks in general terms, not in detail. He concentrates on the first thing God spoke to him: the people should bring freewill offerings of the various materials needed. He then tells them that gifted artisans will be in charge of the construction. (35:10–19)
The visionary communicates the detailed vision to the leaders.
This is a serious responsibility. It takes patience and communication skills. It has to be palpably clear, yet allow for a degree of artistic creativity in those called to bring it to fruition. Moses tells all the people that Bezalel and Aholiab are the project’s Executive Designers: Master Artisans called by God (Exod 35:30–36:3).
The artisan leaders oversee the work.
These Master Designers appoint other gifted craftsmen (and women) to jobs that suit their skills. They continue to oversee all of the work. In this section, when we read “he” it usually refers to Bezalel, not to Moses (36:1–39:31).
The executive designer brings the finished work to the visionary.
The artisans did everything they could to have all of the specified items made according to spec. But, in the last step, Bezalel brings all of the pieces to Moses for inspection before assembling them. There was still time to correct something, if needed (39:32–41).
Moses inspects all the work according to the vision.
This must have been a tense period for all of the artisans. They had worked so hard. They had done their best to artistically express the vision Moses had communicated. They had put their whole hearts into the work. Yet, they submit it all to the one whom God had called to carry the vision. After, perhaps, a couple hours of inspection, Moses confirms they had done well! He blesses them! We can imagine that there were many sighs of relief and much rejoicing (39:42–43).
Moses personally oversees the construction.
Moses, in his priestly role, oversees the construction of all of the parts. Now, when we see “He,” it refers to Moses. I doubt Moses did all of the heavy lifting, but he did do all of the priestly tasks himself, including anointing the Mishkan and all its furnishings with the holy anointing oil, and placing the holy garments on Aaron and his sons, and anointing them. He most likely also personally placed the “testimony” into the ark and placed the kaporet (often translated “mercy seat”) on the ark. I imagine he closely supervised those who carried the ark into the tent (40:1–33).
God brings his Presence.
One of the most famous phrases in Torah is v-y’chal Moshe: Moses finished.
And he raised up the court all around the tabernacle and the altar, and hung up the screen of the court gate. So Moses finished the work. (40:33)
Then the glory of the LORD filled the tent. . . . Whenever the cloud was taken up from above the tabernacle, the children of Israel would go onward in all their journeys. (40:34–38)
The journeying of the Israelites was determined, from here on, by the cloud of Hashem. It is not clear whether the cloud showed them the route, or just the timing of breaking camp. In any case, Moses was still the one in charge of both the spiritual map and the trail map. Moses stands unique as a leader of the people. It is clear why Messiah is called a “prophet like Moses.”
Moses and our Fathers left us detailed, notated maps of their journeys so that we would remember. “Remember!” is one of the most often-uttered commands in Torah. But remembering is just the first step. We are to study these strange trails—to know them intimately, to the extent that we come to feel that we ourselves have taken these trails.
But the maps we have inherited do not only show us the past. As we study and envision ourselves on the long trail of Torah, we begin to understand more clearly the paths we should take into our future.