Exodus 26

Hook

Do you remember the feeling of gathering around the campfire at camp, the flames dancing, casting shadows on our faces as we sang songs under the stars? There’s a special magic in those moments, a feeling of connection and closeness. I remember one song, a simple melody with repetitive, comforting words, that always made me feel like we were all part of something bigger. It had a line that went something like, "Building bridges, side by side, with hearts so open, nowhere to hide." It’s that feeling of building, of connecting, of creating something sacred together that this week’s Torah portion, Parshat Terumah, speaks to. Today, we’re going to take that feeling of togetherness and bring it home, exploring how the ancient instructions for building the Mishkan, the Tabernacle, can illuminate our own lives and families.

Context

This week, we’re diving into the heart of the Mishkan’s construction, a detailed blueprint from God to Moses. Imagine it as the ultimate DIY project of its time, a mobile sanctuary designed to house the Divine presence among the Israelites as they journeyed through the desert.

The Grand Design

• The text lays out the intricate construction of the Mishkan, a series of layers and materials, each with a specific purpose. It’s like building a multi-faceted jewel box, each facet reflecting a different aspect of holiness.
• We’re talking about ten curtains of fine linen, blue, purple, and crimson, woven with cherubim. These are not just plain cloths; they are works of art, imbued with spiritual significance.
• And then there are the goat hair curtains, the ram skins, and the dolphin skins – layers upon layers, like the rings of a ancient tree, each one protecting and preserving the core. Think of it as building a sturdy tent, designed to withstand the elements, but with an even deeper purpose of protection and sanctity.

Text Snapshot

"You shall make the Tabernacle of ten curtains of fine twisted linen, and blue, and purple, and crimson, with cherubim of cunning work shall they be made. The length of each curtain shall be twenty-eight cubits, and the width of each curtain four cubits: the ten curtains shall be all alike. And you shall join five curtains one to another, and six curtains one to another..." (Exodus 26:1-3)

Close Reading

This section, with its meticulous details about curtains, loops, and clasps, might seem like a builder’s manual, but it’s so much more. It’s a profound lesson in how we create sacred space, both in grand structures and in the quiet corners of our lives.

Insight 1: The Power of Connection and Collaboration

The text emphasizes joining and coupling. We see five curtains joined to five, and then six to six, all brought together with loops and clasps to form a single, unified whole. This isn't just about sewing fabric; it's a metaphor for how we build our families and communities.

The Kli Yakar, a beloved commentator, offers a fascinating insight here. He explains that the fifty loops and fifty clasps are significant. He connects the number fifty to the fifty gates of understanding or wisdom. The Kli Yakar suggests that the Mishkan, with its layers and connections, was designed to bridge the gap between the earthly realm and the divine. The inner curtains, representing the Holy of Holies, were linked to the higher spiritual realms, while the outer curtains corresponded to the more earthly aspects of life. The clasps, therefore, weren't just functional fasteners; they were symbols of connection, of bringing together different aspects of existence.

He elaborates on this, explaining that the five curtains on one side represent the first five commandments, those between humanity and God, which are considered the more "upper" or spiritual commandments. The other five curtains represent the latter five commandments, those between person and person, which are more "lower" or earthly. When these sets of five are joined together by the fifty clasps, it signifies how the earthly and the spiritual are meant to be interconnected. The Kli Yakar even suggests that the fifty gates of understanding are what allow us to make this connection. This resonates deeply with our camp memories. Remember how we learned to work together, to rely on each other? Whether it was setting up tents, preparing meals, or singing around the campfire, our collective effort created something special. The Mishkan teaches us that our homes and families are built on similar principles. Each member, with their unique strengths and perspectives, is like a curtain. When we join together, when we create those "loops" of communication and "clasps" of love and understanding, we create a unified and sacred space. It’s about recognizing that our individual contributions, when woven together, create something far more beautiful and resilient than any single thread.

The Kli Yakar's explanation about the fifty gates of understanding is particularly powerful for family life. It suggests that through developing our wisdom and insight, we can better connect the different aspects of our lives – our spiritual yearnings, our daily responsibilities, our relationships. This isn't about having all the answers, but about the ongoing process of learning and growing together. When we approach challenges with open minds and a willingness to understand each other, we are essentially creating those divine clasps that hold our families together.

Insight 2: The Beauty of Layers and Protection

The Mishkan is described as having multiple layers of covering: the fine linen curtains, then the goat hair curtains, followed by ram skins, and finally dolphin skins. This layered approach isn't just about aesthetics; it's about creating a protected and consecrated space.

Ibn Ezra, another key commentator, notes that the word mishkan itself is related to the concept of dwelling or residing. He emphasizes that Moses was instructed to build the mishkan according to a pattern shown to him, highlighting the intentionality and divine blueprint behind its creation. The text specifies "fine twisted linen, of blue, purple, and crimson yarns, with a design of cherubim." This wasn't just utilitarian fabric; it was artistic, symbolic, and imbued with meaning. The cherubim, often seen as celestial beings, suggest a connection to the divine realm, even in the very fabric of the dwelling.

Consider the outer coverings: goat hair, ram skins, and dolphin skins. These materials, while seemingly less glamorous than the fine linen, served crucial protective functions. The goat hair was likely for the outer tent, offering a robust shield against the elements. The ram skins and dolphin skins (whose exact nature is debated, but often understood as durable and protective) provided further layers of defense. This layered construction mirrors the way we build security and sanctity in our homes.

Think about how we create a safe haven for our families. It's not just about the physical walls of our house, but about the emotional and spiritual layers we build. The outer layers of our family life might be our routines, our boundaries, and our shared activities – the things that protect us from the chaos of the outside world. Deeper within, we have the more delicate and precious layers: our shared values, our unconditional love, our moments of vulnerability and deep connection. Just as the dolphin skins and ram skins shielded the inner sanctum of the Mishkan, our family’s shared commitments and love shield the most vulnerable parts of ourselves and each other. The Sforno points out that the very furnishings within the Mishkan – the table, the Ark, the lampstand – were like those found in a dwelling, emphasizing its role as a place of habitation, designed to house God’s presence. This connection between a dwelling and divine presence is a powerful reminder that our homes, too, can be spaces where we cultivate holiness and connection. The multiple layers of covering in the Mishkan remind us that creating a sacred space isn't a single act, but a continuous process of building, protecting, and nurturing. It’s about understanding that what we put on the outside – our consistent efforts, our protective love – allows for the flourishing of the sacred on the inside.

Micro-Ritual

Let’s bring this idea of layered protection and connection into our homes this week with a simple tweak to a familiar ritual. Many of us are familiar with the Friday night ritual of lighting candles, saying a blessing, and ushering in Shabbat. This week, let’s add a layer.

The "Layered Light" Candle Blessing

When: Friday night, before or after lighting the Shabbat candles. Who: Anyone who wants to participate! What you’ll need: Your regular Shabbat candles.

The Ritual:

1. Light the Candles: As you normally would, light your Shabbat candles.
2. The First Blessing (or just the intention): You can say the traditional Baruch Atah Adonai Eloheinu Melech Ha'olam, asher kid'shanu b'mitzvotav v'tzivanu l'hadlik ner shel Shabbat. (Blessed are You, Lord our God, King of the universe, Who has sanctified us with His commandments, and commanded us to kindle the light of Shabbat.)
3. The Second Layer - The "Covering" Blessing: Now, gently place your hands over the flames (carefully, of course!) or hover them just above, and say with intention: "May this light be a covering of peace and protection for our home. May it shield us from worry and strife, and illuminate our path with kindness and understanding. Just as the layers of the Mishkan protected its sacred core, may these lights protect our family, binding us together with love and strength."
4. The Third Layer - The "Connecting" Blessing: Now, bring your hands together in front of your heart, as if clasping something precious, and say: "May this light connect us to each other, to our traditions, and to the Divine presence. May it remind us that we are all part of something larger, woven together by threads of love and shared purpose. May our home be a sanctuary, a place where every member feels seen, cherished, and connected."

Why this works: This micro-ritual takes the familiar act of lighting candles and adds two layers of intention, mirroring the layered construction of the Mishkan. The first layer focuses on protection and peace for the home. The second layer emphasizes connection and unity within the family and with something greater. It’s a beautiful way to consciously imbue your home with the spirit of holiness and togetherness that the Mishkan represented. It transforms a beautiful tradition into an active creation of sacred space.

Chevruta Mini

Now, let's chew on these ideas a little more, just like we would in a good chevruta (study partnership) session.

Question 1

The text describes the Mishkan as having multiple layers of coverings. If our homes are meant to be like a miniature Mishkan, what are some "outer layers" of protection and "inner layers" of sacredness that we can cultivate in our family life?

Question 2

The Kli Yakar emphasizes the role of the fifty clasps in connecting different realms. How can we, in our families, create "clasps" of understanding and connection that bridge differences between family members, or even between different aspects of our own lives (e.g., work and home, or spiritual and practical needs)?

Takeaway

This week’s Torah portion, Exodus 26, is a powerful reminder that creating a sacred space isn’t just about grand structures, but about intentionality, connection, and layers of love. Just as the Israelites were commanded to build the Mishkan as a dwelling place for the Divine, we too can build sacredness into our homes and families. By weaving together our unique contributions, by offering layers of protection and understanding, and by consciously creating connections, we can transform our living spaces into sanctuaries where holiness, love, and belonging can flourish. Remember that feeling of unity around the campfire? That's the spirit we can bring home, building bridges, side by side, with hearts so open, creating our own beautiful, layered dwelling places.

(Sing-able line suggestion: "Mishkan of my heart, built with love, a dwelling place from below and above!")