Exodus 35

Dear friends, welcome! It's a true joy to learn with you today. As we embark on our journey through the foundations of Judaism, we're going to dive into a truly pivotal moment in our people's story – a moment of profound rebuilding, both physical and spiritual. We'll explore how our ancestors responded to a divine call, not just with their possessions, but with their whole hearts and their unique talents.

The Big Question

Have you ever walked into a space and felt an immediate sense of peace, reverence, or belonging? Perhaps it was a grand cathedral, a quiet forest grove, or even a cherished family home. There’s something deeply human in our desire to create and inhabit spaces that reflect our deepest values and aspirations. For the Israelites wandering in the wilderness, this yearning for sacred space, for a tangible connection to the Divine, reached a critical peak.

Imagine the scene: Just weeks after the awe-inspiring revelation at Mount Sinai, where God’s presence descended in fire and thunder, the unthinkable happened. While Moses was still on the mountain receiving the Torah, the people, gripped by fear and impatience, created a Golden Calf. This wasn't merely a lapse in judgment; it was a profound crisis of faith, a shattering of the covenant. God, in righteous anger, threatened to withdraw His presence. How could a people who had so quickly strayed ever hope to mend such a broken relationship? How could they ever again feel worthy of a divine connection?

This brings us to our big question for today: How do we, as humans, create a dwelling place for the Divine in our lives and in the world, especially after moments of brokenness or perceived distance? What does it mean to invite God's presence into the mundane, and how do our collective efforts, our individual gifts, and even our everyday actions contribute to building a sacred community?

The answer, as we'll see in our text, is both breathtakingly simple and profoundly complex: we build it. We roll up our sleeves, open our hearts, and offer our very best. The Tabernacle, the Mishkan, wasn't just a physical structure; it was a testament to reconciliation, a tangible symbol of God’s willingness to dwell among a people who, despite their failings, yearned for His presence. It was a project that called for everything – gold, silver, linen, wood, and perhaps most importantly, the inspired hands and hearts of every man and woman in the community. Through this communal act of creation, the Israelites didn't just build a sanctuary for God; they built a sanctuary with God, transforming their shared space into a vibrant testament of renewed covenant and enduring faith.

Text Snapshot

Today, our focus is on Exodus Chapter 35, a chapter that marks a profound shift from command to action. After the devastating sin of the Golden Calf and the subsequent period of atonement and reconciliation, Moses gathers the entire Israelite community. He begins by reiterating the foundational law of the Sabbath, underscoring its paramount importance even before the grand project of the Tabernacle.

Then, Moses issues a call – a call for contributions and for skilled labor to build the Mishkan, the Tabernacle, and all its intricate furnishings. He lists the specific materials needed: precious metals like gold, silver, and copper; fine textiles in blue, purple, and crimson; special skins and acacia wood; oils, spices, and precious stones. Crucially, the text emphasizes that these gifts are to come from "everyone whose heart is so moved."

Following the call for materials, Moses invites all those "skilled" among them to come forward and dedicate their talents to crafting the various components of the Tabernacle – from the Ark of the Covenant to the lampstand, altars, and priestly garments.

The chapter then vividly describes the overwhelming response of the people. Men and women alike, whose hearts and spirits were moved, brought forth their offerings. Skilled women spun yarns, and talented artisans prepared their crafts. The generosity was so immense that, as later chapters reveal, Moses eventually had to tell them to stop bringing gifts!

Finally, the text highlights two individuals, Bezalel and Oholiab, whom God has specifically "singled out by name," endowing them with a "divine spirit of skill, ability, and knowledge in every kind of craft." They are not just master artisans; they are divinely inspired leaders, entrusted with overseeing and teaching others in the monumental task of constructing God's dwelling place.

This chapter isn't just a shopping list and a job description; it's a powerful narrative about community, generosity, divine inspiration, and the collective effort required to create sacred space.

One Core Concept

The core concept woven throughout Exodus 35 is Partnership in Creation: Sanctifying the Mundane through Intentional Action. The Tabernacle, though a dwelling for the Divine, was not conjured into existence by magic. It was built by human hands, from tangible, earthly materials—gold, wood, linen, and goats' hair. This chapter teaches us that holiness isn't solely bestowed by God from above; it is actively co-created when human beings, moved by genuine intent and utilizing their God-given talents, dedicate their efforts to a sacred purpose. Every spun thread, every carved piece of wood, every generous donation, became an act of sanctification, transforming ordinary objects and skills into components of a divine dwelling. It underscores the profound Jewish idea that our actions in this physical world have the power to elevate, to bring down heaven to earth, and to make space for the Divine in our midst.

Breaking It Down

The Assembly: All Are Called

The chapter opens with a powerful image: "Moses then convoked the whole Israelite community and said to them..." (Exodus 35:1). This isn't a select committee or a group of elders; it's kol adat Bnei Yisrael – "the entire congregation of the children of Israel."

The commentator Ramban (Nachmanides, 13th-century Spanish scholar) emphasizes this inclusivity, stating that "The expression 'all the congregation of the children of Israel' includes the men and women, for all donated to the work of the Tabernacle." This wasn't a project for men only, or for the wealthy, or for the priests. It was a call to everyone. This immediate emphasis on universal participation sets the tone for the entire endeavor. The Tabernacle, a symbol of God's presence among the people, was to be a reflection of their unity and collective dedication.

Rashi (Rabbi Shlomo Yitzchaki, 11th-century French commentator), followed by Kli Yakar (Rabbi Shlomo Ephraim Luntschitz, 16th-century Polish commentator), adds a fascinating layer of interpretation regarding the timing of this assembly. Rashi states it occurred "the day after Yom Kippur." This timing is highly significant. Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement, is a day of profound introspection, repentance, and reconciliation with God and with one another. It's a day when the community is united in its vulnerability and its yearning for forgiveness.

Kli Yakar expands on this, suggesting that the assembly after Yom Kippur served a dual purpose. Firstly, it fostered peace within the community: "this assembly was to mediate peace among them." He explains that since the Tabernacle would bring everyone together, making them "as if seated in one dwelling," it was essential that they first be "in one bond," united. Yom Kippur provided this unity, as "on that very day, all are in one bond." This spiritual unity was a prerequisite for building a physical dwelling for God.

Secondly, Kli Yakar proposes a practical reason: Moses used this time to address potential disputes. He suggests Moses first sat "to judge the people" (referencing Exodus 18:13, though Kli Yakar places this after Yom Kippur in this context) to ensure that any donations to the Tabernacle were legitimately owned. The phrase "Take from among you gifts to יהוה; everyone whose heart is so moved shall bring them—gifts for יהוה... " (Exodus 35:4-5), and specifically "m'atkhem" (from yourselves), is interpreted by Kli Yakar to mean "from that which is yours, not from that which belongs to your fellow." A sacred edifice, especially one meant to house the Divine Presence, could not be built from ill-gotten gains. By resolving conflicts over property before the call for donations, Moses ensured the purity and integrity of the offerings. This underscores a profound ethical principle: true holiness demands justice and ethical conduct in all our dealings, even before we approach the sacred.

The Sabbath: A Foundation of Holiness

Moses' very first instruction to the assembled community, even before mentioning the Tabernacle, is a reiteration of the Sabbath laws: "On six days work may be done, but on the seventh day you shall have a sabbath of complete rest, holy to יהוה; whoever does any work on it shall be put to death. You shall kindle no fire throughout your settlements on the sabbath day" (Exodus 35:2-3).

Why begin here? The Tabernacle project would be an immense undertaking, requiring countless hours of labor and skill. One might assume such a monumental, divinely commanded task would override other commandments. However, Ramban clarifies: "He preceded [the explanation of the construction of the Tabernacle] with the law of the Sabbath, meaning to say that the work of 'these things' should be done during the six days, but not on the seventh day which is 'holy to G-d'. It is from here that we learn the principle that the work of the Tabernacle does not set aside the Sabbath." This is a foundational principle in Jewish law: the Sabbath is paramount. Even the construction of God's own dwelling place cannot violate its sanctity. The holiness of time (Shabbat) precedes and frames the holiness of space (the Tabernacle).

Kli Yakar delves deeper into the seemingly redundant phrase "these are the things" (Exodus 35:1) and "work shall be done" (passive voice, tie'aseh melakha) rather than "you shall do work" (ta'aseh melakha). He suggests that "things" refers to two distinct but related instructions: firstly, to engage in the work of the Tabernacle during the six weekdays, and secondly, to explicitly not engage in it on Shabbat. The passive "work shall be done" is significant because the primary "work" being commanded at this stage is the bringing of donations. As Kli Yakar notes, citing a Talmudic teaching, bringing items from one domain to another is considered melakha (creative work) on Shabbat. Since donating is a voluntary act ("everyone whose heart is so moved"), it's not a direct command to do work, but rather an allowance that work shall be done by those moved to contribute. This specific "work" of bringing donations is also forbidden on Shabbat.

Furthermore, Kli Yakar offers a beautiful homiletic interpretation for "You shall kindle no fire throughout your settlements on the sabbath day." Beyond the literal prohibition, he suggests it's a reminder "not to ignite the fire of strife on the Sabbath day, when people are idle from work and there is greater concern then for the fire of strife to ignite amidst idle talk." This connects back to the theme of unity and peace established by the assembly after Yom Kippur. The Sabbath, a day of rest and peace, should extend to our interpersonal relationships, preventing the "fire" of conflict from flaring up within the community.

The Call for Gifts: Heart-Moved Giving

Once the sanctity of Shabbat is firmly established, Moses issues the central command for the Tabernacle: "Moses said further to the whole community of Israelites: This is what יהוה has commanded: Take from among you gifts to יהוה; everyone whose heart is so moved shall bring them—gifts for יהוה: gold, silver, and copper; blue, purple, and crimson yarns, fine linen, and goats’ hair; tanned ram skins, dolphin skins, and acacia wood; oil for lighting, spices for the anointing oil and for the aromatic incense; lapis lazuli and other stones for setting, for the ephod and the breastpiece" (Exodus 35:4-9).

The emphasis here is crucial: "everyone whose heart is so moved." This is not a tax, not an obligation, but a freewill offering (nedavah). The building of God's dwelling place is to be fueled by genuine generosity and heartfelt desire, not by coercion or mandate. This voluntary nature transforms the act of giving from a burden into an expression of love and devotion. It's a powerful lesson that true spiritual engagement comes from within.

The list of materials is extensive and diverse, ranging from the most precious metals and gems to humble goats’ hair and acacia wood. This diversity highlights that every contribution, regardless of its perceived value, is essential and sanctified when offered with a sincere heart. The poor, who might only have goats' hair, could contribute just as meaningfully as the wealthy who offered gold. This principle ensures that everyone, regardless of their economic status, can participate fully in the sacred endeavor. It underscores the Jewish value that all resources, when dedicated to a holy purpose, become sacred vessels.

The Call for Skill: Divine Partnership in Craft

Beyond the materials, Moses calls for human talent: "And let all among you who are skilled come and make all that יהוה has commanded: the Tabernacle, its tent and its covering, its clasps and its planks, its bars, its posts, and its sockets; the ark and its poles, the cover, and the curtain for the screen; the table, and its poles and all its utensils; and the bread of display; the lampstand for lighting, its furnishings and its lamps, and the oil for lighting; the altar of incense and its poles; the anointing oil and the aromatic incense; and the entrance screen for the entrance of the Tabernacle; the altar of burnt offering, its copper grating, its poles, and all its furnishings; the laver and its stand; the hangings of the enclosure, its posts and its sockets, and the screen for the gate of the court; the pegs for the Tabernacle, the pegs for the enclosure, and their cords; the service vestments for officiating in the sanctuary, the sacral vestments of Aaron the priest and the vestments of his sons for priestly service" (Exodus 35:10-19).

This is a comprehensive blueprint, detailing every component of the Tabernacle. It's a reminder that the Divine presence is to be housed in a structure of meticulous design and craftsmanship. But critically, it's not just about the materials; it's about the skill to transform those materials. God doesn't miraculously construct the Tabernacle; He relies on human ingenuity and artistry.

This emphasis on skill elevates craftsmanship to a sacred act. Our talents, whether in weaving, carpentry, metalworking, or design, are seen as gifts from God, meant to be used in His service. This stands in stark contrast to the preceding narrative of the Golden Calf, where the people used their gold and, presumably, some level of skill, to create an idol. Here, those same human capabilities are redirected towards creating a dwelling for the One True God, demonstrating a profound spiritual rehabilitation. The detailed list of items highlights that every single part, no matter how small or seemingly insignificant, is crucial to the overall sanctity and functionality of the Tabernacle.

The Response: Enthusiasm and Inclusivity

The community's response to Moses' call is immediate, overwhelming, and deeply moving: "So the whole community of the Israelites left Moses’ presence. And everyone who excelled in ability and everyone whose spirit was moved came, bringing to יהוה an offering for the work of the Tent of Meeting and for all its service and for the sacral vestments. Men and women, all whose hearts moved them, all who would make an elevation offering of gold to יהוה, came bringing brooches, earrings, rings, and pendants—gold objects of all kinds. And everyone who possessed blue, purple, and crimson yarns, fine linen, goats’ hair, tanned ram skins, and dolphin skins, brought them; everyone who would make gifts of silver or copper brought them as gifts for יהוה; and everyone who possessed acacia wood for any work of the service brought that. 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. And the chieftains brought lapis lazuli and other stones for setting, for the ephod and for the breastpiece; and spices and oil for lighting, for the anointing oil, and for the aromatic incense. Thus the Israelites, all the men and women whose hearts moved them to bring anything for the work that יהוה, through Moses, had commanded to be done, brought it as a freewill offering to יהוה" (Exodus 35:20-29).

This passage paints a vibrant picture of collective enthusiasm. People didn't just give; they came, their "spirit was moved," their "hearts moved them." This wasn't begrudging compliance but joyful participation. The text highlights the inclusivity: "Men and women, all whose hearts moved them." Women, often relegated to the background in ancient societies, are specifically mentioned for their crucial role, particularly in spinning the intricate yarns and goats' hair. This demonstrates that the building of sacred space requires the contributions of all members of the community, leveraging diverse skills and resources.

The donations ranged from precious gold jewelry (perhaps even the very jewelry used for the Golden Calf, now repurposed for holiness) to everyday items like goats' hair. This reinforces the idea that every offering, given with a full heart, is equally valuable in God's eyes. It's a powerful example of mitzvah haba'ah b'yadam – fulfilling a commandment with what you have readily available. The sheer volume and eagerness of the contributions were so great that, as we learn in the next chapter (Exodus 36:5-7), Moses had to announce that no more donations were needed! This outpouring of generosity speaks volumes about the people's desire to reconnect with God and actively participate in the rebuilding of their relationship.

Bezalel and Oholiab: Divine Inspiration and Human Collaboration

The chapter concludes by singling out two individuals, Bezalel and Oholiab, as divinely appointed master craftsmen: "And Moses said to the Israelites: See, יהוה has singled out by name Bezalel, son of Uri son of Hur, of the tribe of Judah, endowing him with a divine spirit of skill, ability, and knowledge in every kind of craft, and inspiring him to make designs for work in gold, silver, and copper, to cut stones for setting and to carve wood—to work in every kind of designer’s craft— and to give directions. He and Oholiab son of Ahisamach of the tribe of Dan have been endowed with the skill to do any work—of the carver, the designer, the embroiderer in blue, purple, crimson yarns, and in fine linen, and of the weaver—as workers in all crafts and as makers of designs" (Exodus 35:30-35).

This passage is remarkable. It highlights that God not only commanded the Tabernacle's construction but also provided the human resources and divine inspiration necessary to execute it. Bezalel is not just a skilled artisan; he is "endowed with a divine spirit of skill, ability, and knowledge in every kind of craft." This tells us that artistic and technical proficiency, when dedicated to a sacred purpose, is itself a manifestation of the Divine. God's spirit isn't limited to prophecy or spiritual revelation; it can animate the hands of a craftsman, enabling extraordinary creativity and precision.

Bezalel is described as a master of various crafts, including design, metalwork, stone cutting, and wood carving. He is also given the ability "to give directions," indicating his role as a leader and teacher. Oholiab, mentioned alongside him, is also endowed with similar skills, particularly in carving, designing, embroidering, and weaving. The collaboration between these two, representing different tribes (Judah and Dan), symbolizes the unity of the entire nation in this sacred endeavor. They were not only skilled practitioners but also teachers, passing on their divinely inspired knowledge to others, ensuring that the entire community could participate and learn. This shows that the process of building holiness is both individually inspired and communally collaborative, a blend of unique talents and shared purpose.

How We Live This

The story of the Tabernacle in Exodus 35 isn't just an ancient historical account; it's a timeless blueprint for how we can infuse holiness into our contemporary lives and communities. The principles of voluntary giving, communal effort, ethical action, and the sanctification of our talents remain profoundly relevant.

Our "Tabernacle" Today: Synagogue as Sacred Space

Just as the Israelites built a physical dwelling for God's presence, we too strive to create sacred spaces in our lives. For many, the synagogue or Jewish community center serves as our modern "Tabernacle." How do we make these spaces truly feel like a dwelling place for the Divine? It's not just about the architecture or the rituals; it's about the people within them.

• Active Participation: Like the Israelites who brought gifts and skills, we are called to be active participants, not just passive observers. Attending services is a start, but true participation involves contributing our time, talent, and resources. Are we volunteering for committees, helping with events, or simply offering a kind word to a newcomer?
• Inclusivity: The assembly of "all the congregation – men, women, and children" – teaches us that our Jewish spaces should be welcoming and inclusive of everyone, regardless of age, background, or level of observance. When everyone feels a sense of belonging and ownership, the collective energy elevates the space.
• Communal Ownership: When we contribute, we build. When we build, we own. The synagogue becomes "our" Tabernacle, a place we collectively cherish and sustain. This sense of shared responsibility fosters a stronger, more vibrant community.

Sanctifying Our Time: The Enduring Power of Shabbat

The instruction to prioritize Shabbat even before the Tabernacle's construction remains a cornerstone of Jewish life. In our fast-paced, always-on world, the concept of a complete day of rest is more radical and necessary than ever.

• Modern "No Fire": While we don't kindle literal fires for work, the modern equivalent might be the "fires" of our digital devices, our endless to-do lists, or the constant pressure to produce. "No kindling fire" on Shabbat can mean consciously unplugging, silencing notifications, and stepping away from the demands of work and commerce.
• A Sanctuary in Time: Shabbat offers us a "sanctuary in time," a weekly opportunity to pause, reflect, connect with family and community, and appreciate the spiritual dimensions of life. It allows us to shift our focus from "doing" to "being," from creation to appreciation.
• Framing Our Week: By observing Shabbat, we frame our six days of work with holiness. Our weekday efforts gain purpose and meaning when they lead towards a day of rest and spiritual renewal. It reminds us that our work is not an end in itself, but part of a larger, divinely ordered existence.

Gifts of the Heart: Tzedakah and Volunteerism

The Israelites' enthusiastic, heart-moved giving is a powerful model for tzedakah (righteous giving) and volunteerism today.

• Beyond Obligation: The concept of nedivut lev (generosity of heart) encourages us to give not out of mere obligation, but from a genuine desire to support our community and uplift the world. Whether it's monetary donations, volunteering our time, or offering a skill, the intention behind the gift is paramount.
• Every Contribution Matters: Like the gold, silver, and goats' hair, every contribution, big or small, has value. A few hours of volunteering, a modest donation, or even a kind word can significantly impact our community. It's about using what we have for a sacred purpose.
• Ethical Sourcing: Kli Yakar's insight about Moses resolving disputes before the donations reminds us of the importance of ethical conduct. Our "gifts"—whether money, time, or skills—should be rightfully and ethically acquired. True holiness cannot be built upon injustice or ill-gotten gains.

Unleashing Our Inner Bezalel: Finding and Using Our Talents for Holiness

The story of Bezalel and Oholiab reminds us that all our talents, not just traditionally "religious" ones, can be infused with divine spirit and used for sacred purposes.

• Recognizing Divine Gifts: Do you have a knack for organization, a talent for cooking, a gift for teaching, a skill in technology, or an artistic flair? These are all divine gifts! The Tabernacle needed designers, weavers, metalworkers, and more. Our communities today need similar diverse talents.
• Applying Talents to Jewish Life: How can you apply your unique skills to enhance your Jewish community or bring Jewish values into the wider world? A skilled accountant can help a synagogue manage its finances, a graphic designer can create engaging educational materials, a compassionate listener can support others in times of need. Every talent can become a tool for tikkun olam (repairing the world).
• Teaching and Collaborating: Bezalel and Oholiab were not just practitioners but also teachers. We are encouraged to share our skills and knowledge, inspiring others and fostering a collaborative environment where everyone can contribute and grow.

The Power of Community and Unity

The entire narrative of Exodus 35 underscores the transformative power of a unified community.

• Healing Brokenness: The Tabernacle project was initiated after the profound brokenness of the Golden Calf. It became a mechanism for healing and rebuilding the relationship between God and Israel, and among the Israelites themselves. Our communities can also be places of healing and reconciliation, where past hurts are acknowledged and new bonds are forged.
• Overcoming Divisions: Kli Yakar's emphasis on peace and resolving disputes before the assembly is a potent reminder that unity is not automatic; it requires intentional effort. In diverse Jewish communities, disagreements can arise, but the shared goal of creating a sacred space (physical or spiritual) should always supersede individual differences.
• A Model for Today: The Tabernacle, built by men and women from all tribes, with varied skills and resources, stands as an eternal model for how a diverse community can come together, overcome challenges, and collectively create a powerful, living testament to their shared faith and purpose.

One Thing to Remember

The Tabernacle story in Exodus 35 teaches us that holiness isn't just something God gives us; it's something we build with God. It requires our whole selves – our hearts moved to generosity, our hands skilled in creation, our time dedicated to rest, and our ethical integrity guiding our actions. It's an ongoing partnership to make space for the Divine in our lives, in our communities, and in the world, transforming the mundane into the sacred, one heartfelt contribution at a time.