"I’ll be honest, this last few parshiyot have been kind of a slog."
Sometimes, life feels dull and repetitive. Our weekly tasks, like taking out the trash or writing this podcast, can start to feel unimportant. But what if I told you that everything you do matters to G-d so much that your every move is mirrored in heaven? That as we speak, there is, like, an angel you reading a celestial version of this very episode description? Let's get mystical.
Produced by Mishkan Chicago. Music composed, produced, and performed by Kalman Strauss. See our upcoming Shabbat services and programs here, and follow us on Instagram and like us on Facebook for more updates. Check out Shabbat Replay on Contact Chai for more from Rabbi Deena.
Transcript
Welcome to The Morning Scroll! I'm Rabbi Deena Cowans from Mishkan Chicago and you're listening to what will be a quick dive into this week's parsha. If you’ve been meaning to brush up on your Jewish literacy, or you’re looking for some inspiration, you’ve come to the right place. This week, we read Parashat Pekudei, “records”, the final chapter in the saga of the construction of the Mishkan. We’ll start with a brief recap:
We begin with a precise account of the amount of gold, silver, and copper donated for the Mishkan, as well as what was constructed with these donations. Then, we hear about a bunch more “doing”: the making of the ephod for the high priest, with its special shoulder straps, the choshen mispat, the breastplate inlaid with 12 precious stones representing the 12 tribes, the blue robe for the high priest with gold pomegranate bells at the bottom, and the tzitz, a headband engraved with the words “Kadosh l’adonai”, holy to God. The construction of the Mishkan is finished, and the artisans present their work to Moshe, who sees that they have done it exactly as God asked, and blesses them. God then tells Moshe to put up the whole Mishkan tent situation on the first day of the first month, aka Nisan, and tells Moshe to put everything in its place and dress Aaron and his sons in their priestly garments. The Torah then describes Moshe doing exactly that, which completes the whole process. When Moshe finishes, the Cloud of Glory and Divine Presence come into the Mishkan and fill it. The parsha, and the book of Shemot, closes by telling us that the cloud served as a sort of GPS and traffic signal: when the cloud lifted, the Israelites would travel and follow it, and when the cloud rested on the Mishkan, the Israelites would set up camp.
Hazak hazak v’nitchazek, we have been strong, and we will continue to be strengthened by our learning!
I’ll be honest, this last few parshiyot have been kind of a slog. It’s a lot of talking about doing and talking about how to do, and then the actual doing described this week feels kind of anticlimactic. Like, yes, they did it. Good job. Done. But, as we’ve seen before, it’s often the parts of the Torah that seem most banal and straightforward that inspire the most fantastical midrashim, and this parsha is no exception. The rabbis of the Talmud imagine that, in parallel to the human construction of the Mishkan on Earth, God has commanded the angels to build an identical, parallel Mishkan in heaven. This, the rabbis explain, is why the Torah had to specifically tell us what date the tent was finally erected, because it mirrors a major occurrence in heaven at that exact moment. This idea, that the things that happen on earth are mirrored in the heavenly realm, becomes a major idea in Jewish mystical thinking. And it has been a lifeline to the Jewish people for most of our history. It reminds us that when things get tough, or boring, or we don’t feel like we’re seeing impacts for our actions, that they do in fact have a real, concrete and very important impact… on God and heaven, of all places. Every mitzvah we do, every act of service to God or other human beings that we perform, is reflected in God’s dwelling place, which is itself a form of tikkun olam, literally repairing the world. In other words, what we do matters a great deal. It has ripple effects not just on our lives and other people’s, but on God and the angels.
I want to offer this as both a blessing and a reminder to the Israelites, who put forth so much effort to get this project done and who are going to have a hard time living in a world that they changed. And I want to extend that blessing to each of you as you slog through hard times, or feel like your work isn’t seen or appreciated, or like you’re not making enough of a difference. You are, even if you can’t see it. You matter, and what you do matters, and you are a blessing to the world.