At Mount Sinai, the Torah was given to the people of Israel, and with it, a great and unique responsibility: to be the nation that leads the world in the path of morality and divine values.
To that end, the Holy One, blessed be He, contracted Himself, as it were, descended into this world, and revealed His divinity in a clear and tangible way, so that faith could be transmitted from generation to generation.
The accounts of the sights and sounds experienced at Mount Sinai leave no doubt as to the existence of the Creator and humanity’s obligation to fulfill the commandments of the Torah.
Yet, despite this, the relationship between human beings and the Creator of the world can at times seem distant and unattainable. One who seeks to draw closer to the Creator may feel a deep gap: What connection can there be between a physical human being and so exalted a divine entity?
Likewise, the Holy One, blessed be He, having created His world out of a desire to bestow goodness upon His creatures, wishes to have a tangible presence among them. As stated in the Midrash:
“Rabbi Shmuel bar Nachman said: When the Holy One, blessed be He, created the world, He desired to have a dwelling place in the lower realms, just as He has in the upper realms” (Tanhuma, section 16).
This mutual need for connection between the Creator and His creations is what motivates the command described in this week’s Torah portion – to build a Mishkan (Tabernacle), intended to be a place where the Divine Presence would be contracted and dwell, and where human beings could come, sense the sanctity of the place, and be influenced by it.
This was not merely a structure of wood and stone but a creation built according to deep and hidden principles known only to the select few of that generation – Moses and Bezalel son of Uri. This wisdom created a permanent and honored place for the indwelling of the Divine Presence, a spiritual reality in which miracles occurred within a world of matter and physicality. As it is said:
“And they shall make Me a sanctuary, and I shall dwell among them” (Exodus 25:8).
The sages noted the precision of the verse’s wording. Seemingly, it should have said “and I shall dwell in it,” since the verse speaks of the sanctuary. Rabbi Elijah de Vidas wrote:
“‘I shall dwell among them’ – in their souls within their bodies. Thus, the primary dwelling of the Divine Presence is only in the pure soul. That is, ‘They shall make Me a sanctuary, and I shall dwell among them’ – it does not say ‘in it,’ but ‘among them,’ meaning within their inner being” (Reshit Chochmah).
In this spirit, Rabbi Chaim of Volozhin, the great disciple of the Vilna Gaon, wrote:
“Do not think that the ultimate purpose of My intention is the making of the external sanctuary. Rather, know that the entire purpose of My will in the design of the Mishkan and all its vessels is only to hint to you that from it you shall see, and so shall you yourselves do, to fashion yourselves, so that you, through your desired actions, will be like the design of the Mishkan and its vessels – all of them holy, worthy, and prepared for the indwelling of My Presence truly within you” (Nefesh HaChaim I, Ch. 4).
Some mistakenly think that the Temple is the main thing, and that the human being merely serves it. The truth is the opposite: The Temple is a means. When a person comes to it and his or her soul connects to the sanctity that rests there, an inner desire awakens to become sanctified and to draw closer to the Creator. In this sense, the Temple resembles a kind of spiritual “charging station,” whose purpose is to charge the soul with forces of holiness and meaning.
Reading this portion, which deals with the construction of the Mishkan and its vessels, arouses in the hearts of those who dwell in Jerusalem, near the Western Wall, a powerful longing for the day when we will merit the building of the Third Temple.
At the same time, it also calms the soul: It becomes clear that the true purpose is the sanctity of the human being, and that this does not depend specifically on the building of the Temple. The work of sanctifying the heart can be done at every moment and in every place, without postponing spiritual change to the future.
This idea is expressed in the words of one of the Kabbalists of Safed, Rabbi Elazar Azikri, author of the hymn “Yedid Nefesh” (“beloved of my soul”) and the Sefer Haredim:
“Within my heart I shall build a dwelling for His radiance; my solitary soul I shall offer Him as a sacrifice.”
Inspired by these words, the great philosopher Rabbi Yitzchak Hutner (1906-1980) composed a liturgical poem expressing deep yearning and readiness for self-sacrifice for the sake of God, blessed be He:
Within my heart I shall build a dwelling for the splendor of His glory,
And in the dwelling, I shall place an altar for the horns of His majesty.
For the eternal flame I shall take the fire of the binding,
And as a sacrifice I shall offer Him my solitary soul.
These words were later set to a moving melody, sung by many to a tune of longing and yearning – an expression of the desire for the inner construction of the human being and for finding the right path toward sanctification and becoming a better, more complete person.
Each person is a walking Temple
At times, we wander through the vast world with a sense of smallness, feeling like just one among many, a small cog in an enormous system. But every Jew must know: Each person is a walking Temple; each has the power to build a dwelling place for the Creator of the world within his or her heart.
When we respect ourselves and understand our greatness, all our choices take on a different meaning – thus many living sanctuaries can be built within us, and within our world.■
The writer is rabbi of the Western Wall and Holy Sites.