Today we read the instructions for building the Mishkan, that portable sanctuary that we carried with us through the desert, that holy place that housed the Presence of God as we camped in the wilderness. It’s an incredible concept, if you think about it, that God asks us to build a structure so that God can dwell among us.
Nowadays, we no longer have one central mishkan for the whole people of Israel, although we did when the Temple still stood in Jerusalem, but our sanctuary here, like every Jewish place of prayer, is modeled on the mishkan that we read about in the Torah today. We have the ark, which, in the Torah, housed the stone tablets of the 10 Commandments, and for us houses the whole Torah. We have the menorah, which, in the Torah, was made of pure gold, but here we settle for wood. And in the Torah, the mishkan also housed the altar upon which animals were sacrificed as offerings. Well today, our altar is this table from which prayers are offered in place of sacrifice.
So, the furnishings of the Mishkan have evolved somewhat, but our sanctuary still follows the model of the Mishkan in the Torah. It’s a central place where people come together to receive God’s word out of the ark, through the Torah, and to approach the altar and make an offering through prayer. Our Mishkan remains the place that we establish to create a dwelling for God.
So let’s think about what it takes to make our sanctuary such a place, a place where the Presence of God dwells among us. And let’s look at our parasha for some guidance in how to build such a place. The parasha is filled with a lot of details about how to build the mishkan. What message do you draw from the Torah about how to build a place where the Presence of God can dwell. [. . . discussion. . .]
For me, the answer is found in the very beginning of the parasha when everyone is asked to bring their gifts, as their own hearts move them. They’ll bring gold, silver, copper, yarns of various colors, linen, animal skins, wood, oil, spices, stones, whatever they had to offer, even dolphin skins. And later we’ll read that all the people who have skills, crafts, and talents build and sew and create. The point is, everyone contributes, each in their own unique way, everyone offers whatever they have to offer. In fact, the Torah will also tell us that the people give so abundantly that Moses has to ask them to stop bringing things because they give more than is needed.
Over the last several weeks, we’ve been focusing on prayer and how to have more meaningful prayer lives. We’ve talked about song and how we can use song in a variety of ways to deepen prayer, and last Shabbat our Scholar in Residence gave us a variety of sub-texts for prayer, layers of meaning that lie under the surface. And today, I want to add another element to what can enrich our prayer lives: the idea of making an offering. Everyone actively contributed to the Mishkan. In other words, if we want a sacred place for the Presence of God here in our sanctuary, we have to actively participate, we have to offer something.
This is a bit of a foreign concept in our culture today because we live in a consumerist society, meaning: We buy our tickets to the movie theater and we expect to sit and be entertained. We pay our bill at a restaurant, and we expect to sit and be served. But a Mishkan is not like that; we have to take an active role.
I often hear people critique the prayer service in explaining why prayer isn’t meaningful to them: the service is too long, too boring, too much Hebrew, the words don’t speak to them, the melodies are unfamiliar. Often we are frustrated or disappointed because we are sitting and waiting for something to happen to us. But I want to share with you a story that happened last week. During the Scholar in Residence, he asked people to sing together a certain prayer in groups of 3 and to try listening to only the other 2 people in our groups. Later people commented on what they had experienced over the weekend, and one person said: when we sang in groups of 3, I realized that everyone else knew the melody of the song and I didn’t, and everyone else knew the words of the song and I didn’t, so how could I participate in my group? I realized that I didn’t know the melody and I didn’t know the words, but I did know how to engage with the Divine, so that was what I offered my group.
This is stunning. He didn’t know the song or the words, but he still had something to offer: engagement with the Divine. Everyone has something to offer to create a Mishkan here, as everyone offered something to create a Mishkan in the Torah. What can you offer, even if you don’t know the words or the melody? Maybe you offer a warm smile to someone who needs it. Maybe you do a beautiful harmony and you hum along. Maybe you clap your hands. Maybe you add a thought to the Torah discussion. Maybe you’re a kid who is learning Hebrew and you help your parents or grandparents find the place on the page. Maybe you’re a gabbai, a Torah reader, a prayer leader, or maybe you just sit with your heart open and add to the holiness of this sanctuary by making this a prayerful space with your focused intention.
Maybe you say hello to a stranger and make them feel welcome. Anyone can do this. Last week, someone who had never been here before sat next to me and didn’t know that I was the rabbi. She extended her hand and introduced herself to make me feel welcome. How wonderful – her first time ever here and she made her offering to make this place a Mishkan.
I invite each of us to change our thinking about what goes on here as we try to create a Mishkan
From: What am I getting out of it? What am I receiving?
To: what am I offering?
From: passively waiting for something to move me.
To: actively offering whatever I’ve got.
To paraphrase a familiar expression, ask not what your Mishkan can do for you, but what you can do for your Mishkan.
In our parasha, when the Mishkan is described, God says: V’asu Li Mikdash V’shachanti B’tocham. Build Me a Sanctuary, and I will dwell among them. The language is very important here. God says: V’asu Li Mikdash, build for me a holy place, meaning we do the building and the offering, not the receiving. But nevertheless, when we do make those offerings and create a holy sanctuary, then, as God says, V’shachanti B’tocham, then God will dwell among us, and then we will receive.
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