Exodus 36

Hook

We stand at a crossroads, not unlike our ancestors in the desert. They had just experienced the profound liberation of Exodus, received the revelation at Sinai, and were tasked with building a sanctuary to embody God’s presence among them. We, too, have witnessed generations of profound aspiration and the incredible achievement of establishing a sovereign Jewish state, a modern-day sanctuary for the Jewish people. But like any grand endeavor, this building project—this nation-building—is ongoing, complex, and often fraught with tension. How do we, as a people, continue to construct a shared home that honors both our ancient covenant and our modern civic ideals? How do we channel the immense generosity and diverse talents of our people towards a unified vision, especially when those visions sometimes clash?

The challenge for Israel today, and indeed for Jewish peoplehood globally, is to hold the incredible strength of our collective will and the profound spiritual dimensions of our history, alongside the practical, messy, and often contentious realities of a diverse, democratic society. Can we, like the builders of the Tabernacle, gather an abundance of resources—material, intellectual, spiritual—and channel them into a cohesive whole, even when the "design" is still being debated, and the "materials" come from wildly different sources? The ancient text of Exodus 36 offers us a timeless blueprint, not just for a physical structure, but for the very spirit of collective endeavor, for the art of turning diverse contributions into a singular, sacred purpose. It speaks to a moment of overwhelming unity and generosity, a potent reminder of what is possible when a people commits fully to a shared, sacred task. Yet, it also implicitly challenges us: how do we sustain that initial fervor, that shared purpose, across generations and amidst new, unforeseen complexities? This text invites us to reflect on the nature of building—both physical and spiritual—and the enduring questions of leadership, skill, and the often-overlooked wisdom that resides within every individual called to contribute to the collective good. It forces us to ask: what does it truly mean to build a home, a mishkan, a sanctuary, in our time?

Text Snapshot

Let, then, Bezalel and Oholiab and all the skilled persons whom יהוה has endowed with skill and ability to perform expertly all the tasks connected with the service of the sanctuary carry out all that יהוה has commanded. Moses then called Bezalel and Oholiab, and every skilled person whom יהוה had endowed with skill, everyone who excelled in ability, to undertake the task and carry it out. They took over from Moses all the gifts that the Israelites had brought, to carry out the tasks connected with the service of the sanctuary. But when these continued to bring freewill offerings to him morning after morning, all the artisans who were engaged in the tasks of the sanctuary came, from the task upon which each one was engaged, and said to Moses, “The people are bringing more than is needed for the tasks entailed in the work that יהוה has commanded to be done.” Moses thereupon had this proclamation made throughout the camp: “Let no man or woman make further effort toward gifts for the sanctuary!” So the people stopped bringing: their efforts had been more than enough for all the tasks to be done. Then all the skilled among those engaged in the work made the tabernacle of ten strips of cloth... so that the tabernacle became one whole.

Context

Date

Immediately following the revelation at Sinai and the sin of the Golden Calf, as described in the book of Exodus. This period marks a pivotal moment for the nascent Israelite nation, transitioning from liberation to the establishment of a communal spiritual center.

Actor

The entire Israelite people, guided by Moses, led by the divinely inspired artisans Bezalel and Oholiab, and supported by a vast network of skilled individuals and a deeply generous populace. This was a collective endeavor, from the highest leadership to the humblest donor.

Aim

To construct the Mishkan (Tabernacle), a portable sanctuary designed to house God's presence among the Israelites during their desert wanderings. This act served not only as a physical dwelling for the Divine but also as a unifying spiritual project, a tangible manifestation of the covenant, and a means for atonement and renewal after the Golden Calf incident. It was about creating a shared focal point for a diverse, newly formed people.

Two Readings

The narrative of the Tabernacle's construction in Exodus 36, particularly the opening verses, offers a rich tapestry through which to explore the complexities of Zionism and Modern Israel. We can approach this text through two interconnected lenses: one emphasizing the civic and communal aspects of nation-building, and the other highlighting the covenantal and spiritual dimensions that underpin the Jewish people's return to their homeland. Both readings are vital for a complete understanding of Israel’s foundational ethos and its ongoing challenges.

Reading 1: The Sanctuary as a Blueprint for Peoplehood & Collective Purpose (Civic/Communal)

This reading emphasizes the process of building the Tabernacle as a powerful metaphor for the collective, civic endeavor of nation-building. It highlights the indispensable roles of human skill, collective generosity, and the integration of diverse talents towards a unified, functional whole. The Tabernacle, in this view, is a grand public works project, demanding the best of its citizens for the common good.

The text begins by naming Bezalel and Oholiab, alongside "all the skilled persons whom יהוה has endowed with skill and ability to perform expertly all the tasks." This immediately establishes the importance of human agency and talent. It’s not just divine command; it’s divine enablement of human capacity. The commentaries underscore this:

• Or HaChaim on Exodus 36:1:1 notes that Bezalel and his helpers "made all the preparations necessary to carry out the work as soon as the materials would be at hand. He prepared the proper tools." He explicitly connects this to the "39 categories of work which are prohibited on the Sabbath," implying the immense, diverse, and practical labor involved in this single project. This isn't abstract spirituality; it's hands-on, meticulous construction. This resonates deeply with the early Zionist pioneers, who, upon arriving in Eretz Yisrael, didn't wait for miracles but immediately set about draining swamps, building roads, cultivating land, and establishing institutions. They were the "Bezalels" and "Oholiabs" of their generation, preparing the tools and laying the groundwork for a future state, often with immense foresight and planning before the full "materials" (mass immigration, statehood) were even available. The Halutzim (pioneers) exemplified this spirit of applied skill and diligent preparation.

• Crucially, the text does not limit the "skilled persons" to the named leaders. Minchat Shai on Exodus 36:1:2, referencing a common rabbinic interpretation of "ותבונה בהמה" (and understanding in them), clarifies that this wisdom and understanding were imparted not just to Bezalel and Oholiab, but to all who were engaged in the work. This is a powerful statement about the democratization of skill and wisdom. Every artisan, every weaver, every carpenter, every metalworker, was imbued with a special capacity to contribute. This egalitarian understanding of contribution is fundamental to a civic reading of peoplehood. It suggests that a nation thrives when it recognizes and harnesses the diverse talents and inherent wisdom of all its citizens, not just a select few leaders.

The story of the abundance of contributions further reinforces this civic dimension. The people bring "more than is needed for the tasks." This extraordinary generosity, so overwhelming that Moses has to issue a proclamation to stop the donations, speaks to a powerful sense of collective ownership and dedication. It's not a tax; it's a freewill offering driven by a profound desire to participate in the shared project.

• This mirrors the immense sacrifices made by Jews worldwide and within Israel throughout its modern history. From the early philanthropists who funded settlements to the countless individuals who volunteered for defense, contributed to national drives, and dedicated their lives to building schools, hospitals, and cultural institutions, the spirit of overwhelming generosity has been a hallmark of Zionist endeavor. The early kibbutzim, with their ethos of "from each according to his ability, to each according to his needs," were a direct embodiment of this collective spirit, where individual possessions were subsumed by the communal good.

The culmination of the work is described as the Tabernacle becoming "one whole." This unity, achieved through the meticulous joining of diverse parts—curtains, planks, clasps—serves as an ideal for nation-building. A functioning society, like the Tabernacle, is a complex, integrated system where each component, no matter how small, contributes to the overall stability and purpose.

Connecting to Modern Israel: This reading offers a compelling framework for understanding the secular-civic vision of Zionism. It highlights the emphasis on:

• Practicality and Ingenuity: The celebrated "Israeli chutzpah" and innovation, the startup nation, the incredible advancements in agriculture, technology, and defense, all stem from this spirit of skilled craftsmanship and problem-solving.
• Collective Action and Solidarity: The historical resilience of Israeli society in the face of external threats, the strong social safety nets (though debated), and the tradition of mutual aid exemplify the "more than enough" generosity and the sense of shared fate.
• Democratic Participation: The ideal, if not always the reality, that every citizen, regardless of background, has a role to play and a contribution to make to the national project. The diverse mosaic of Israeli society—olim from dozens of countries, different religious and secular lifestyles, various ethnic groups—is meant to weave together into "one whole."

Tensions and Challenges: However, the civic reading also illuminates significant tensions in contemporary Israel:

• Maintaining Collective Generosity: In an increasingly individualistic and consumerist society, how does the state foster the spirit of "more than enough" contribution, moving beyond mere taxation to genuine civic engagement and sacrifice?
• Bridging Divides: The ideal of "one whole" is often challenged by deep internal divisions—between religious and secular, Ashkenazi and Mizrahi, Jewish and Arab citizens. How do we ensure that all "skilled persons" feel their contributions are valued and integrated into a truly cohesive national fabric?
• Defining "Skill" and "Purpose": Whose skills are prioritized? What is the agreed-upon collective purpose when different groups hold vastly different visions for the state's character and future? The "deep intention of all the work" (Haamek Davar, discussed below) might be interpreted differently by various segments of society, leading to friction.

This civic reading affirms the strength and necessity of human effort, ingenuity, and collective will in the building of Israel. It calls for a constant recommitment to the shared project, recognizing the value of every individual's contribution to the greater whole.

Reading 2: The Sanctuary as a Manifestation of Divine Will & Deeper Intention (Covenantal/Spiritual)

This reading shifts focus from the mechanics of construction to the profound spiritual and covenantal underpinnings of the Tabernacle project, viewing it as an embodiment of God’s will and a sacred mission. The Tabernacle is not merely a building; it is a symbol, a theological statement, and a physical manifestation of the unique relationship between God and the Jewish people. This perspective finds strong resonance in religious Zionism, which views the State of Israel as an unfolding of divine prophecy and a step towards messianic redemption.

The opening verse's injunction to "carry out all that יהוה has commanded" is paramount here. The project is divinely mandated, its specifications given by God to Moses. This imbues the entire enterprise with a sacred character that transcends mere architectural design.

• Haamek Davar on Exodus 36:1:1 provides a critical insight into the nature of "חכם לב" (wise of heart). He clarifies that this isn't just technical skill, but "חכמת יראת ה׳" – "the wisdom of the fear of God." He explains that these "wise of heart" were given "wisdom and understanding in them to know the deep intention of all the work." This means the builders weren't just following instructions blindly; they understood the why behind the what. Their craftsmanship was infused with spiritual insight, understanding the profound theological significance of each plank, curtain, and clasp. This elevates the act of building from a secular task to a sacred act of worship and covenantal fulfillment.

• Further, Haamek Davar on Exodus 36:1:3 highlights an even deeper layer: the builders were meant to carry out "all the work of the holy service, according to all that God commanded. Through the tradition received by Moses, which was not explicitly written." This is a groundbreaking idea for our context. It suggests that Bezalel and his team had to interpret and apply unwritten traditions (קבלה למשה) to their work. They had to "intend with their wisdom" (כונו בחכמתם) to ensure everything was done as commanded, even when the command wasn't explicit in the text. This speaks to the need for profound spiritual discernment and the ability to connect broad divine principles to specific, practical applications.

• Ibn Ezra on Exodus 36:1:1 notes the singular "Va-asah" (Bezalel shall make), implying a primary, focused role for Bezalel in creating the "glorious object" (the Ark). While Oholiab teaches, Bezalel is the principal craftsman for the most sacred elements. This highlights the idea of divinely chosen individuals for sacred tasks, leaders imbued with unique spiritual gifts.

Connecting to Modern Israel: This covenantal reading deeply informs religious Zionist thought:

• Divine Mandate: For many religious Zionists, the establishment of the State of Israel is not merely a political or humanitarian response to antisemitism, but the beginning of atchalta d'geula (the dawn of redemption), a divinely orchestrated return to the land promised to Abraham. The "command" to build Zion is seen as an ongoing, historical imperative.
• Spiritual Purpose: Israel is viewed as more than just a safe haven; it is a sacred vessel, a tool for the Jewish people to fulfill their unique spiritual mission in the world. Its institutions, laws, and culture should reflect its covenantal identity, aiming to become a "light unto nations" in a spiritual sense.
• Interpreting Tradition: Just as Bezalel had to apply unwritten traditions, modern Israel, from this perspective, must constantly grapple with how to apply ancient Jewish law (Halakha) and values to the complexities of a modern state. This includes debates over Shabbat observance, kashrut, conversion, marriage, and the role of religious institutions in public life. The "wisdom of the fear of God" is seen as essential for navigating these challenges, guiding the nation towards its deeper, covenantal purpose.
• Exceptionalism and Sacred Duty: The idea of Bezalel as a specially endowed leader for a sacred task resonates with the belief that the leaders of Israel, and indeed the people as a whole, bear a unique historical and spiritual responsibility.

Tensions and Challenges: This reading also brings its own set of tensions and complexities to modern Israel:

• Defining "Divine Will": Who interprets "all that יהוה has commanded" in a pluralistic society? Different religious streams, and even different factions within Orthodoxy, hold vastly divergent understandings of God's will for the state, leading to deep ideological conflicts (e.g., debates over judicial reform, territorial compromise, religious pluralism).
• Reconciling Sacred and Secular: How does a modern, democratic state—which must serve all its citizens, including non-Jews and secular Jews—embody a "wisdom of the fear of God" without alienating significant portions of its population or becoming a theocracy? The tension between halakha (Jewish law) and mishpat (secular law) is a constant source of friction.
• Exclusivity vs. Inclusivity: If Israel is a divinely ordained project for the Jewish people, what is the role and status of its non-Jewish citizens? How does the covenantal identity of the state reconcile with the democratic ideal of equal rights for all?
• The Burden of Expectation: Viewing Israel as a divine project places immense pressure on the state to live up to transcendent ideals, often leading to profound disillusionment when it inevitably falls short of perfection due to human failings and political realities.

Both readings, the civic/communal and the covenantal/spiritual, offer profound insights into the nature of Zionism and the State of Israel. They are not mutually exclusive but represent different emphases within the broader Jewish narrative of return and rebuilding. The challenge, and indeed the ongoing work, for modern Israel is to find ways to integrate these powerful, sometimes conflicting, visions into a cohesive and resilient national identity, much like the disparate elements of the Tabernacle were meticulously joined to become "one whole." It’s about understanding that the "wisdom of the fear of God" can inform the "skilled craftsmanship of the hand," and that collective purpose can elevate individual acts of generosity to sacred dimensions.

Civic Move

The tension between the civic and covenantal readings of Israel is not a flaw, but an inherent aspect of its unique identity—a nation simultaneously rooted in ancient spiritual covenant and built on modern democratic principles. To bridge these perspectives and foster a stronger, more unified peoplehood, a potent civic move would be to initiate and sustain a series of "Nation-Building Workshops: Crafting Our Shared Future."

These workshops would be designed as facilitated, hands-on, multi-disciplinary projects, directly inspired by the Tabernacle's construction. The goal is to bring together diverse groups of Israelis (and Jews globally, connecting to the Diaspora) to co-create something tangible and meaningful for their local communities or for the nation as a whole.

Structure of the Workshops

1. Project Identification: Each workshop would focus on a specific, local community need or a national challenge that requires practical solutions and diverse skills. Examples could include:

   • Designing and building a community garden or public park in a mixed neighborhood.
   • Developing an innovative educational program for bridging gaps between different sectors of society (e.g., secular and religious youth, Jewish and Arab students).
   • Creating a digital platform for civic engagement around a particular social issue.
   • Restoring a historical site or building that holds significance for multiple communities.
   • Designing and implementing a sustainable energy solution for a small town.

2. Diverse Skill Assembly (Inspired by Bezalel & Oholiab): Participants would be recruited from various backgrounds, deliberately seeking individuals with different "skills and abilities" (Exodus 36:1). This would include:

   • "Bezalels" (Visionaries/Planners): Architects, designers, engineers, programmers, urban planners, educators, social entrepreneurs.
   • "Oholiabs" (Teachers/Collaborators): Community organizers, facilitators, mentors, communicators.
   • "Skilled Persons" (Hands-on contributors): Volunteers with practical trades (carpenters, electricians, artists, farmers), students, retirees, and community members eager to learn and contribute.
   • "Wise of Heart" (Spiritual/Ethical guides): Religious leaders, philosophers, ethicists, historians, who can articulate the "deep intention" (Haamek Davar) and provide moral grounding.

3. Process of Co-Creation (Inspired by "More Than Enough"):

   • Initial Brainstorming & Visioning: The workshop would begin with a guided discussion about the chosen project, exploring its practical needs (civic) and its potential to reflect deeper values, justice, or community spirit (covenantal/communal). This is where the "deep intention" is explored collectively.
   • Skill Mapping & Task Allocation: Participants would identify their individual skills and interests, and tasks would be assigned collaboratively, emphasizing how each person’s unique contribution is vital to the "one whole."
   • Hands-on Work: The core of the workshop would involve the actual "making" – whether it’s coding, planting, building, teaching, or designing. This hands-on engagement fosters a sense of shared purpose and tangible accomplishment.
   • "Bringing More Than Is Needed": Participants would be encouraged to bring not just their assigned contributions, but also their "freewill offerings"—extra ideas, unexpected talents, personal stories, or even just enthusiasm and encouragement for others. This mirrors the Israelites' overwhelming generosity.
   • Reflection & Dialogue: Throughout the process, structured dialogue sessions would be integrated. These sessions would encourage participants to reflect on:
     • What challenges did we encounter, and how did we overcome them collaboratively? (Civic)
     • How does this project connect to our shared Jewish values, history, or aspirations for a just society? (Covenantal/Communal)
     • How do our diverse perspectives strengthen the final outcome?
     • What does "one whole" mean to us in this specific context?

Goals and Impact

1. Re-centering Peoplehood and Responsibility: By actively engaging people in building, these workshops would shift focus from passive consumption or critique to active participation and shared responsibility. It would demonstrate that the future of Israel is not just decided by politicians, but built by its citizens.
2. Bridging Divides through Shared Action: Working side-by-side on a tangible project breaks down social barriers. When a religious scholar works alongside a secular tech entrepreneur to build a community garden, they learn to appreciate each other’s skills and shared humanity, transcending ideological differences. The shared sweat and common goal become a powerful unifying force.
3. Honoring Diverse Forms of Wisdom: These workshops would explicitly value both practical "craftsmanship of the hand" (Haamek Davar 36:1:2) and the "wisdom of the fear of God" or "deep intention" (Haamek Davar 36:1:1). It would create a space where ethical considerations, historical understanding, and spiritual meaning are integrated into practical problem-solving.
4. Cultivating a Culture of Generosity and Contribution: By creating opportunities for people to give "more than is needed," the workshops would rekindle the spirit of selflessness and collective abundance seen in Exodus 36. This could manifest not just in material donations but in time, expertise, and emotional investment.
5. Fostering a "Strong Spine, Open Heart" Mentality: The projects would require participants to have a "strong spine" in committing to the work and upholding the vision, while maintaining an "open heart" to listen to diverse perspectives, adapt plans, and build relationships across differences.

This "Nation-Building Workshop" is not merely about completing a project; it is about rebuilding the social fabric of Israel. It’s about creating contemporary "Tabernacles" – spaces, programs, and initiatives – that are born from the collective will, diverse talents, and profound generosity of a people committed to making their shared home "one whole," reflecting both their civic aspirations and their covenantal calling.

Takeaway

The ancient call to build the Tabernacle, a precise and sacred dwelling, offers a profound and enduring blueprint for the modern project of Zionism. It reminds us that building a nation, like building a sanctuary, demands not only immense human skill and unwavering collective generosity—to the point of "more than is needed"—but also a deep, unifying sense of purpose. Whether we frame this purpose through a civic lens of shared responsibility and collective good, or a covenantal lens of divine mandate and spiritual destiny, the ultimate goal remains the same: to create a cohesive, resilient, and meaningful "one whole." Our task, then, is to continuously foster spaces where diverse talents converge, where differing visions can be woven into a stronger fabric, and where the enduring spirit of peoplehood can guide us in crafting a hopeful future for Israel. The work of building is never truly finished, but the capacity of our people to unite and contribute, as demonstrated in the desert, remains our most powerful resource.