Exodux Cycle Four Vayekhel/ Pekudei

Vayekhel

In Vayekhel we read lo tibaru aish b’chol mishvotichem bayom hashabbat. Do not ignite a fire on Shabbat, no matter where you may be settled.

Today I sent a text message to my daughter. She’s a smart girl. I thought I might explore her interpretation. She texted me back saying, well we light the Shabbat candles and we wouldn’t want any other fire to compete. A member of a study group (from Temple Emek Shalom) if I remember right, once said that since we are about to build the mishkan, and since fire is an important element of creation, we need to be reminded in advance of the rules around Shabbat. In other words, before creation we need to specify the boundaries or the frame of that same creation.

Both interpretations remind me of a poem by Walt Whitman. In it, through metaphor, the soul throws from itself filament after filament. Here, we really can see and feel the work of the soul on this earth. There isn’t any competition between the soul and earth. There’s perfect balance and harmony, a oneness, a merge. And there’s a continuous reminder that there are limitations to the reach of these filaments. Boundaries. They can only fly so-far.

Let’s now look at what Chagall has to say. He has an exquisite painting that marks the moment the Torah is presented by Moses to the elders. In it, Moses is huge, white. The Torah is about half of his size, also white. He is central. Below, are the elders. And above there is a lit menorah, smaller than the Torah, all in one golden sphere as if it is also a hearth. The fire, to be specific, is not being lit. It is already burning.

A fire isn’t just a fire though. A fire is so close to the creation of Torah it is Torah according to our teachers. This is what R.Simeon ben Lakish says: The Torah given to Moses was written with black fire on white fire, sealed with fire and swathed with bands of fire. While writing it, Moses wiped off the reed on his hair-thus he received the radiance that was to emanate from his countenance. (JT Shel 6:1, 49d)

Rabbi bar bar Hannah says this: Why are words of Torah likened to a fire, as in the verse is not my word like as fire, says the Lord (Jer 23:29). To teach that just as fire does not ignite of itself so words of Torah do not abide in him who studies by himself (TB Ta, 7a).

Now, since the mishkan is also such an important subject in this parsha this is what Freud might have said about it. A mishkan sometimes is just a mishkan. However Rabbi Arthur Green among other kabbalists of all denominations, aligns the mishkan to our being, the place in which (yes) the Shechinah can dwell if we do the inner work.

This is what I say: When an offering of the heart is made to build the mishkan, when it comes from a pure place seen and blessed by God, when the gift is made of fire, from the love between humans and transmitted through one heart, however great or small, to reject it is a serious decision. Imagine, for example, if Moses said to God…hey, this is quite the fire-show but I just can’t handle it right now….On the contrary, the fact that he does accept it shows us that to act in God’s ways is to transmit as much fire-love as possible. And to act in the ways of the prophet is to be able to (finally) submit oneself to the receiving.

Of course, not everyone can receive absolute holiness. We have other concerns, work to do, cars to drive, children to feed, the mortgage to pay, sleep to find. We are limited to how much joy and consciousness we can bring in. It depends on our vessels, the strength of our beings, our forms. Some of us are greatly weakened by the plague of fear, by the need for outer-show rather than inner-gleaning. Our work though on earth is to build our vessels to the point where we are not only capable of giving but of receiving, because that is the true God-mirror, the place of tiferet (balance). This is where God speaks to us from between the cherubim, and as Rav Kook says, where white fire emanates that still silent voice.

In Torah, so much is offered though by the Israelites to build the mishkan that Moses (even Moses) finally has to say, all right, enough. It’s as if the Torah now being offered has stretched to gargantuan sizes, a thousand feet by a thousand feet, way beyond human scale, way beyond the size of Moses, and the resulting flames could swallow him whole. His vessel (how amazingly large it is) and the vessel he is building (the Mishkan) is not stalwart or iron/gilded enough to support the enormity of the gift from the hearts of the Israelites. In this case, it’s best that the Israelites safeguard their gifts for later times. But this is what Moses doesn’t do: He doesn’t reject some gifts and accept others. There’s a balance, a oneness, a merging of those accepted and turned away. Moses doesn’t pick and choose. He doesn’t make over-arching rules about which gifts come in or out. He doesn’t go against his own rules depending on prejudices, hearsay, bribery or simple charm and manipulation. His weakness, in other words, is one of gevurah. He isn’t strong enough to accept all. He just can’t. It’s as simple as that.

Therefore, the rejection from Moses isn’t about the gift of gold or silver or the one that comes directly from the cousin of Bezazel or the soon-to-be Isaiah. It isn’t about the gift from his close friend on the ritual practices committee who by the way (one would think) is a priest of the highest status. It isn’t about gifts from future rabbis or rabbinic students or children killed in the Holocaust or renewal gurus or orthodox fundamentalists in Jerusalem or from those loved or unloved, those who are aging or just-out-of-the womb, from Board Members or retired rabbis or those with red cows or gilded cows or oxen that need unloading. It doesn’t matter if the gifts come from those about to be redeemed or those who are blemished. What we hold is equal not because of material or human make-up but because of something as pure as timing and the simple over-arching rule of the Sh’ma which ends by the way with Adonay Echod. Each is a gift from God to God, a push of shefa or flow transmitted through the hearts of the tribes of the Israelites, each a mini-Torah within itself, each with the same black fire upon it, one after the next, over and over just as we read in the continuous offerings in Naso. Each is interdependent on the other and without the interdependance the words of Torah fall flat. And to reject one, as tragic as it is, means to reject all that follow.

Because once again the rejection is not based on the gift or the person giving but on the capability of the prophet to receive.

Still, we must remember that everyone whose heart motivates him to give terumah for God is to do so. We give. And if our gift is not timely we will know. And we hold the gift, perhaps the greatest gift of all, until the timing is right. No doubt, we each have terumah that will be needed and received in our lifetime.

A big question though is how do we build our being, our personal mishkan, to a place strong enough where we can receive? I think we each have our tools. One though that unarguably has strengthened the Jewish people over the centuries is the study of Talmud and Torah. If it seems daunting to you, start with Pirkei Avot from Mishnah and look at one teaching a day. There’s yoga as well, meditation, dance, journal writing, any art, any sport. My advice is find what can contribute to your mind and body wholeness and (given that it is safe) just do it. Because you just may need it for God-reception. . And I don’t mean with God alone. I mean with the God in each other. If we want to be the lover in the Song of Songs, if we want to wake up yes wake up like in the widely chanted prayer Lecha Dodi, we do the inner work. It is our responsibility, yes responsibility, as Jews to work at being able to receive at the edge of bounty and to honor our heightening recognition of light at its climax.

This is why, I believe, the parasha Vayekhel begins with that one very strong commandment. We don’t light a fire on Shabbat. Why not? Because we are to light that fire way before-hand so that by the time Shabbat is here and the Shechinah has entered we have slowly adapted our body to the expansion of the widening flame, to the rising heat, to the spectrum of yellows and blues and oranges and reds that slowly sharpen our vision. By the time Shabbat is here we not only have this bounty of Torah words and white space before us but we have slowly adapted our being and strengthened it throughout the week to endure and hold more and more radiant wisdom.

Therefore, may we be like Moses and strengthen our hearts and open our eyes and welcome the Shechinah…or as much of her as we can…and transcribe her radiance and peace onto the scroll of our holy and oh so human home. May we do it with the brilliance of Bezazel and with the intuition and compassion of Moses, with the fire of God leading us from one dwelling to one dwelling closer, from one flame to a greater merge flame to flame and heart to heart.