Weaknesses, Housekeeping and Sacrifice

I am not alone in feeling that the parshiyot these weeks are less exciting and less interesting than any others in the Torah. In fact, I have always found these parshiyot about the mishkan (tabernacle) and sacrifices boring, bordering on agonizing. I have heard and offered some explanations for these issues, but I recently felt that sitting with the problem might have led me to an insight both about the parshiyot, and also about myself.

Why do I dislike these parshiyot so much? Aside from the temple of ancient Israel being uncomfortably unappealing, what occurred to me is that I found the sections about the mishkan so unbearable because they focused on details about clothing and accessories, and also on fixtures and interior design. None of these topics interested me much, and though everyone wears clothing and I am not an exception to that rule, I never embraced the experience. I would go one step further- my choice to not focus on these matters was intentional and ideological. I saw myself as a soul, first and foremost, and for years, I perceived these pursuits as below me. I couldn't get excited about the mundane physical needs that human beings have been satisfying for our entire history. I somehow didn't notice the human ingenuity and creativity that went into the fields of fashion, design and interior decorating. Instead, I saw them as distractions from matters of the spirit, and from truth-- ultimately, ways to remove us further from God. And the truth is that clothes do separate us- from one another, in a deep way, that allows us to get to know each other as spiritual beings, and we see these themes in the Megilla and Purim in general. What struck me recently is that attention to detail is not something to view with scorn. I know, that sentence is laughably obvious to most people, but I think I had some sort of block on it.

What is so jarring about these difficult, detail ridden, temple obsessed portions is that they are juxtaposed with Revelation at Sinai, the sin of the golden calf, followed by the thirteen attributes of mercy, and intimate conversations between God and Moses to which we are privy. Not surprisingly, these are some of my most favorite parshiyot! Why go and ruin it with these long, drawn out details about the Tabernacle? I once told a friend of mine, I thought these portions about the Preistly clothes and the Tabernacle structure and fixtures belonged in the oral law. I think that the relationship between these two things- the deeply intimate and intense on the one hand, and the details about temple on the other-- are, perhaps, at the core of all these matters.

After the sin of the golden calf, the Israelite people experience nationally a sense of guilt and shame. Sin can be demoralizing, and the people could not imagine that their relationship with God could ever be restored. After an individual sins, the distance experienced is not only from God, but from the self as well. One wonders how she will "hold it together" after her core has been shaken. The disconnection from self numbs a person from herself, from her soul, from God.

The mishkan offers a way back to God. This time, it is not through ten plagues, splitting seas and through revelation. That which divides us from God allows us to return to Him as well. The seemingly mundane activities are all the person has when she is ridden with guilt and shame. Wake up in the morning, put on your clothes. Clean your house. Do the laundry. Go to work. We keep it together while we restore our sense of self. The midrash tells a story that Moses built the mishkan two or three times every day for a week, and the mishkan kept on falling down, until after 21 times, it finally stayed up. (I heard this midrash from R. Shlomo Katz- unfortunately, I cannot cite the source .) This reminds me of the midrash where God himself created many worlds before this one, until he decided this would be it (until the flood, of course). The midrashim both echo the same theme that one should never give up. We need to keep trying, despite our failures. Beautiful. I think with our juxtaposition in mind, though, there's something even deeper going on. The entire Mishkan is a structure that exists as a way to keep trying, despite our failures. It appears that the whole goal is to acknowledge our failures, and to keep our daily/monthly/yearly/life cycle-y regimen in this worship. Sometimes, unfortunately, that just means maintaining appearances, and sometimes, it means seeing God in the Ohel Moed. But Rambam alludes to this with his whole conception of sacrifices as a concession to idolatry, and our lower natures. The whole temple is a concession to the people's inability to maintain sinaitic closeness with God, even for as long as they were at Sinai! The mechanism is the point, though- just get through they with what you know you have to do. Your spirit will catch up. God is dwelling with you. She has not given up on you yet, even if you may have given up on yourself.

I recently got an email that a wonderful woman who I have learned from and looked up to is in need of a kidney. I felt conflicted, wondering whether I should offer to help her. There is, of course, no guarantee that I would be able to help her, but, if it came to that, I would feel obligated to give her my kidney, if I was a match. I wrote in that I would like to offer what help I can offer, despite being in Israel. It struck me afterwards that korbanot are a difficult subject, not only because animal sacrifice feels kind of archaic, but also because sacrifice is such a difficult concept for us to understand. I say us here ,rather than me, because I think this is a feature of the individualistic society that we live in. The idea that a woman might not "have it all," (to reference an Atlantic article that got enormous response from people) is extremely difficult to imagine. That a mother (or a father, for that matter) might not fulfill her own personal goals because she is making sacrifices for her family is very hard for many people to grasp. Sacrifice, as a word, carries so much baggage. Of course that makes us uncomfortable during sefer Vayikra. But that should challenge us- it certainly does challenge me. What about sacrifices makes me so uncomfortable? If I will sacrifice a kidney now, are we raising a generation that will include people who will sacrifice a kidney for me? What are our values in terms of giving up of ourselves?

Hope these words help you through the coming weeks, and maybe even beyond.