There’s one
activity that I particularly miss since we don’t have a permanently-set-up
worship space. It is welcoming school
groups to visit, and explaining to them all the architectural features and
furnishings in the shule. I used
to find it enjoyable the few times a year that such opportunities came up. No, I don’t think that I ‘missed my calling’
by not becoming a museum docent! But I sometimes
downplay the importance of physical surroundings and objects and the tactile aspect
of Judaism. I’m more attracted to the contemplating,
the ‘pondering’ part than to the tactile.
Now I know that what I’m saying may sound like an extreme disconnect to
you who have been in our home. After
all, come into our living quarters, and you’ll find yourself surrounded with Jewish
books and Jewish ‘stuff.’ But ‘touchable’ Judaism simply isn’t a big priority
for me. So I sometimes forget the importance
of this aspect.
Guiding groups of schoolchildren
through the shule used to be my periodic reminder of this importance. Even in the relatively utilitarian shules
where I’ve served, the guests found the surroundings most fascinating and led
them to ask probing questions that often went beyond the physical features of
shule and furnishings. And when that
happened, the questions often went into the areas, about which I’m most
concerned. So there.
I was thinking about this during the
week, because of a project I’ve been working.
We’ve recently bought a Torah scroll. It’s not a ‘real’ scroll: on parchment and hand-written by a
scribe. But it’s usable. For now, it’s the closest we’re going to get. A kosher scroll today commands a five-figure
price. Even if someone were to give
us a genuine scroll, I don’t have a secure place to keep it. All this notwithstanding, I can tell that
having, and using this simulated scroll has added immeasurably to our morning
services.
But we don’t have an Ark for the
Torah. So a few weeks ago, I spoke to a
skilled carpenter. Between us, we
designed a mini-ark for our mini-Torah.
And now, I’m working on a white holy day cover for the Torah. Pamela took care of the cloth for the mantle,
and I made the design for the embroidery.
A professional embroiderer is going to decorate the mantle, then Pamela
will finish crafting it. And then there
will be a parochet – a curtain – for the ark. Actually two:
a dark blue one for everyday use, and a white one for festivals. Slowly, slowly we are acquiring and amassing
the various important symbols of Judaism to transform our worship space and
make us feel that our space is fitting for our purposes. To transform our meeting room or our living
room into a space that ‘feels’ like a synagogue. Things will only get better with time.
It’s interesting that I was working on
these tasks on the same week when we read the Torah portion Vayakhel. Actually, this week we have a double portion
– Vayakhel and Pekudei – but I’d like to focus on Vayakhel.
A few weeks back when we were in
Colorado, Clara and I saw the movie The Imitation Game. It was a fascinating film about the
breaking of the Nazis’ Enigma code by a team of cryptanalysts in Bletchley
Park, England. It was fascinating on a
number of levels and I was disappointed that it won only one Oscar, for Best
Screenplay. To me the most interesting
revelation was that the most sophisticated computer for breaking codes was
useless until the master codebreaker, Alan Turing, realised that the team
needed to help it. They had to take into
account elements both inside and outside the coded message to help in the
decoding. For example, the skilled
intercept operator can determine a sender’s identity by recognising his ‘hand’ –
his touch on the key when he sends in Morse code. There are other methods of recognising an
entity in communications. Certain units come
up at certain times. And their messages
are of similar lengths. And the same
subjects. So by using this information
that is external to the message text itself, we can glean a lot of intelligence
that then helps us to break the code.
I’ve long thought that the use of ‘externals’ in this way is important
to ‘breaking the code’ and discerning deeper messages that the Torah has to
tell us. Remember how last week, I
suggested that we pay close attention not only to the words of our Torah
portion. I showed how the juxtapositions
– the flow of the text from one specific setting to another – matter.
As this week’s parashah opens,
we have – surprise of surprises! – one more admonition to observe Shabbat. And then what follows in the next verses? Instructions or the crafting of the Tabernacle,
and in particular, the Ark. So what are
we to learn about this juxtaposition?
Well, for one thing, we can begin to
understand the importance of creating a setting for Shabbat. If we make no transitions in our surroundings
with the arrival of Shabbat, how can we expect to be able to really enjoy
it? I don’t mean that we have to have a
special house for Shabbat, although that really isn’t such a bad idea.
I have known Jews who had a ‘Shabbos
house,’ because the shule was located in a suburb where they didn’t want to
live full-time. In this case, the Jews
wanted to live in a suburb too far from the shule to walk to, and yet in their
new area there was no shule that was suitable for them. So they maintained a home in the old
neighbourhood, near the shule, and every Friday afternoon they moved in, to
move back to the newer home on Saturday evening. To me it sounds like a lot of trouble, but it
served their needs and carried an extra advantage. I’m sure the deliberateness of changing
houses just for Shabbat made it easier for them to really feel that Shabbat
was special.
I’m like most of you: not in the
position of having a special house just for Shabbat. But I have attended Shabbat retreats on
several occasions. And I can tell you
that the act of uprooting yourself from your ‘normal’ surroundings and deliberately
putting yourself into a different, and appropriate setting for Shabbat is
constructive. It does help you step
away, not only from your everyday routines, but from your everyday cares and concerns.
We cannot retreat from our everyday surroundings every Shabbat. But we can re-arrange our spaces to
help engender the kind of spirit we want to create on Shabbat. That’s why some Jews go out of their way to
set a beautiful table with their best china on Friday evening. And buy fresh flowers for the house. And eat the best, richest food. And put on their nicest suit of clothes. All of this sets the mood; it makes Shabbat
peace easier to realise.
This is an important assist. Even
if like me, you’re not one who focuses too sharply on the tactile. As I have learned when I guided groups of
schoolchildren through the various shules I’ve served. As I came to realise this week, whilst very
joyfully setting about the tasks of creating those tactile items to engender
Shabbat peace. And as we can all learn
when reading this week’s portion, which jumps without transition from
observance of Shabbat to the crafting of the Tabernacle and the Ark.
I’m talking specifically about Shabbat, but you can see how this applies
to just about everything in life. If we
want to foster romantic feelings with our spouse on our wedding anniversary, we
go to a nice restaurant or lay on the trappings at home. If we want a business meeting to result in a
contract, we see to the details of the meeting space and the atmosphere of the
meeting. If we want our children to excel
in schoolwork, we help them create a study space where they can focus on the
right things. The principle applies universally.
To be able to create Shabbat peace solely from within, is a rare gift. To be able to slow down even when nobody
around us is doing so. Even when the
everyday noise still rages at full volume.
But most of us need help. The
instructions for the creation of the ancient Israelites’ Tabernacle no longer
apply. Therefore, the precise rules for
the enterprise, given in this week’s Parashah, do not apply. There are no rules…but there is still doing
it right. Right is what helps us to create
our own Tabernacle of Peace. So
we pour our effort and creativity into it.
To do it right. There isn’t
an absolute right. But in the
right spirit. Let that be the
spirit that moves us as we work to create something special together. Shabbat shalom.
No comments:
Post a Comment