The Evolution of God’s Presence

Allow me to engage your creative side for a few moments. Come, join me, as we picture the magnificence of the Beit HaMikdash.

Lets assume it is Erev Pesach. We travel together from distant lands to come eat the Karbon Pesach in Yerushalyim. After long travels, we finally reach the gates of the Old City. As we walk through the stone streets, appreciating the beauty of the mountain, people come out of their houses to greet us and welcome us to the Holy City. They walk with us, eager to participate in our pilgrimage. We all journey together, strangers yet like family and as we finally reach the final set of steps, we see the beauty of the Beit HaMikdash. White brick and gold plated instruments gleam in the sunlight of the Jerusalem Hills. As we come closer, with the sheep we will be eating later tonight, we notice the multitudes of Kohanim running back and forth in perfect coordination, as they meticulously slaughter and prepare the thousands of קרבנות פסח that will be eaten later that evening. We walk past the large arches into the magnificent courtyard and watch as our own sheep gets prepared to be used for the מצוה דאורייתא קרבן פסח. Later that evening, we sit together with friends and family singing and retelling the story of the miracles of the Exodus all while enjoying our קרבן פסח.

Thinking about what these wonderous episodes must have looked like allow us to appreciate the focality of the Beit HaMikdash in our religious lives.

We get NONE of this experience as we read through the parshiyot we are currently in the middle of. Instead over the last two weeks we simply read intricate halachic details of exact dimensions and stitching patterns for the service required in the Mishkan. The disturbing lack of emotion or spiritual excitement is painfully apparent.

This is emphasized more if we consider the greater context of Sefer Shemot. We went from the wonderous miracles of the ten plagues, followed by the dramatic rescue at Yam Suf all the way to the thunder and lightning of the receiving of the Torah only to suffer through the painfully intricate details from the last two parshiyot and will continue to read in the next two.

According to Rashi’s understanding of the chronological progression of these parshiyot, the reason may be quite obvious. The Jews originally were on a lofty spiritual level that allowed for enjoying open miracles but once they sinned at the חט העגל, an event that occurred according to Rashi before the instructions to build the Mishkan were given, the relationship between man and God shifted. No longer will He be performing open miracles and allowing for a wonderous religious experience. Now, it was a cold distant relationship experienced by cold technical rules.

The Ramban, however, understand that the pseukim follow the historical chronological order. If so, we are left to wonder, why the abrupt shift from a fantastical world to one of technical realism?

Perhaps we can best understand the progression through the description offered by the Abarbanel. There appears to be three models of relationship to God that the Jewish people experience as they wander through the desert. One, where God is clearly present in their lives and influences all manifestations of the natural order. He can cause water to stop flowing and He can allow for bread to fall from the sky. This relationship was most strongly felt when God himself introduced the first few commandments to the Jewish people. Two, a lesser experience of the Godly influence, where God tells Moshe הנה אנכי שולח מלאך לפניכם, an angel will be the one who leads the Jewish people throughout most of their journey in the desert. In Rashi’s world this was a punishment for the חטא העגל but in the רמב”ן’s worldview within the Abarbanel this was simply a part of a natural progression to the final stage where the Jews would enter Israel and not have the obvious Godly influence in their lives.

Decreasing the obvious presence of God in our lives was not a punishment but a demonstration of the maturity and complexity of the new nation. No longer would just anyone proclaim ויאמינו בה’ ובמשה עבדו, but they would now require Kierkegaard’s Leap of Faith to allow for experiencing God without definitely being able to point to His presence.

This religious complexity allows us to read the parshiyot with incredibly technical details with new enthusiasm. These are no longer bland laws that initiate no excitement. They express the care we take to ensure every detail of our service of God is perfectly accomplished. The progression from Matan Torah to boring details is reminiscent perhaps of an exciting wedding where the newlyweds are completely taken away with the excitement of finally being together to the day to day life of a married couple as they truly appreciate living with each other with the normalcy of life.

However, it is not always appropriate to experience God’s presence in our daily lives through the technical details. Sometimes we do need the extra boost of creative spirituality to allow us to feel His presence when things are particularly difficult.

The choice for haftorah that we read last week is quite logical. We discussed the building of the Mishkan and we then read the details of how Shlomo Hamelech built the Beit Hamikdash. This week’s haftorah is much more complex.

Yechizkel, a kohen, was a prophet who was exiled from Israel into Bavel along with his wife. In addition to suffering the sights of many of his people murdered and butchered he was also tasked with answering their heart breaking questions. According to the midrash, the three men thrown into the fire by Nevuchadnetzar instead of bowing to his idols approached Yechizkel to ask if there was a way for them to avoid being burned to death. As a man of God, he had to deliver the difficult answer, that they must allow themselves to die as well. We all know the happy conclusion to that particular episode, but at the time the decision was made they did not.

He was also the one responsible for providing his rejected people hope. That haftorah we read today describes his visions of the establishment of the Third Beit Hamikdash. Wonderous descriptive details highlighting the awe and amazement that will be experienced by the Jews in their future temple.

With all that we might be excused for not noticing that the technical details that he mentions describing the measurements of the Bet Hamikdash and the service of the Karbanot are, simply put, wrong.

And that may very well be the point. At one of the worst moments in Jewish history, the focus of the prophecy could not be on accurate technical details. The focus must instead allow for the spiritual needs of a dejected society to be met.

That was depressing, but I do not mean to imply that purely spiritual, emotional experiences are only for the hard times. Much as a married couple enjoys learns to truly develop a love for each other through their every day lives, they still require moments of vacations or other extravagant experiences to add more energy to their relationship. So too, these moments are appropriate throughout the year, perhaps as we sit together by a Pesach Seder enjoying the company of family and good food while celebrating miracles of the past, and they are appropriate at different ages. While our children are quite advanced and understand many things, they need to have the opportunity to experience religion through the emotional avenue. I am not here today to preach, I am here to just bestow compliments on our children and the supportive parents and congregants we have. I stand here and watch with a smile as our children run upstairs to sing the end of davening together. Not to highlight my own child, but I think Tova summed it up best last week when she yelled to Eliana from across the room, Mommy, I said אין כאלוקנו. So to all of you, be it the parents of the children or the congregants willing to forgive some extra yelling and running in shul, thank you for allowing us to ensure the wondrous religious experience that is Judaism is appreciated by all those who attend our shul.