Exodus Cycle 6 Pekudey

Pekudey


Closing the Gap

When I teach dialogue in my fiction class I say this:   If we want dialogue to seem real we must distort it from reality. We don’t just write what we hear and serve it up.  That comes off as manipulated, false, unnecessary and at worst just plain boring.

This might confuse some students. Therefore I use an example: When Donatello was painting the ceilings of churches his angels were not in perfect proportion. He distorted them. Why? So that those walking into the church would look up at the way-high ceiling and see angels.  Distance demands distortion for accurate reflection.

The philosopher Derrida coins this distortion as “the trace”.  It’s always there. It has to be. We are ourselves and we watch ourselves at the same time.  As artists though, we often try to use the distortion in our work to minimize it in reality. 

   

In Torah, God is the artist. We are the “reader”.  Much is distorted so that we will catch on. Much is distorted so that we will (hopefully) be able to re-fit the pieces and minimize the “trace”.

The process described in Pekudey is a great example of this. 

  

First, there’s an accounting. The word used  is pekudey. It is translated as the accounts of the mishkan. We immediately receive an accounting of  the people (yes) involved in this accounting. Ithmar, son of Aaron, leads it. Bezazel with the help of Oholiav, leads the skilled work. 

Then we get the accounting of the things…the gold, the silver, etc.

What we must remember though is that at the end of Genesis the same shoresh  is used to infer a visitation. Not only any visitation though, one that is holy, that explores the wide space between man and God, between life and death.

The use of the shoresh again therefore, while taking on the literal meaning of accounting, holds remnants of a beyond-earthly experience, a mystical revelation that remains concealed.

The gap referred to above therefore is closed right there in the one Hebrew word of pekudey. We begin the parsha with knowledge of Wholeness. No "trace" there at all. No distortion.

After this accounting however there’s (once more)  a sort of decomposition of the various pieces involved in both accounting and visitation/revelation.  Things (once more) are re-separated and re-created and re-examined.

We first create the priestly clothing, the outer mask that enables entry to the inner sanctum, the Holy of Holies.

After this creation there must be approval by the man/prophet Moshe, who with his very presence manifests a minimum-trace humanity, the continual almost-merge of inner sanctum and outer mask (Heschel). The man closest to Wholeness therefore must confirm that the things have been made with the intention to manifest Wholeness on earth.

After the approval we experience the erection of the mishkan and the placement of things in it from the (central) ark outward.  Clearly, this process of placement (from the God-window to more layers around it) mirrors the priority of divine order.  This reflection certainly is an attempt to close the gap/trace once again now that it has (once again) been placed before us.

After the mishkan is set up (as well as the things within it) we then read that the strength and glory of God filled the mishkan so much that not even Moshe could enter it. In other words, in the mishkan the gap is completely clinched, even more so than the manifestation inherent in our greatest prophet.

In all, what we see in Pekudey, is that the Whole (exemplified by the word pekudey) is deconstructed to allow for a new merging of the pieces that can more efficiently bring God closer to humanity and humanity closer to God.

This is the the artistic process whether we momentarily are the divine artist, in the inner sanctum as defined by human experience, or in the outer representation (as many of us say…the real world). Closing the gap/trace is constant continual and repetitive work and the way we do it is through the acceptance that distortion is a natural human experience.  We simply need to manifest that distortion and feel it deep in our bones in order to (again and again and again) attempt to re-align and re-fit the universe.

This is why the distortion of dialogue is so crucial to good fiction. We don’t distort it to sit on our laurels and know that our dialogue seems real even if it isn’t…but so that our stance as novelist/creator can begin to close the itching frustrating eternal tempting torturous  joyous and swollen gap between reader and narrator and maybe (one day for one breathtaking moment) between man and God.

This by the way isn't just some philosophy saved for Torah and writers/artists. It's the way of life whether we are mechanics, doctors, lovers, rabbis (reform conservative and orthodox), priests, teachers, nurses, counselors, musicians, students, scientists and/or computer programmers. We make note of what we don't get and stare it down. We distort it in order to know the pieces and parts. Hopefully one day we will bring it all together in new vision/transmission or to further validate our original and most intimate experience. Please note though: it always doesn't happen lightning fast as it does in Pekudey. It happens even faster. It happens every moment when our eyes are open and when we blink.

And concurrently it takes lifetimes.

By the way recently a student asked me (quite astutely) about the exact size of this distortion and therefore this abstract gap. I couldn't help but laugh: I have absolutely no idea. 

It's all beautiful though. It's a beautiful process. It's who we are.