Torah: The quest to sharpen our spiritual awareness is ongoing, age-old Facebook Twitter Email SMS WhatsApp Share By Rabbi Daniel Feder | March 9, 2012 Sign up for Weekday J and get the latest on what's happening in the Jewish Bay Area. Ki Tisa Exodus 30:11-34:35 I Kings 18:1-39 We tend to think of the great characters of our Torah as fully developed figures of faith. In our studies, though, we are continually reminded that all people in the Torah, even Moses, are in the process of becoming. In this week’s parashah, Ki Tisa, all parties involved are figuring out how to function in their new covenantal relationship. As the portion begins, Moses is on top of Mount Sinai, nearing his 40th day on the mountain. At the bottom of the mountain are the Israelites, who are growing more and more anxious, because the leader who had the strength to face down the Pharaoh and mediate God’s instructions for them is gone and shows no sign of coming back. It seems that the longer the people are away from Moses, the more their connection to God diminishes. With each day, the lingering power of the revelation of the Ten Commandments decreases, and with the ineffectual leadership of Aaron, the Israelites became more anxious and fearful. Eventually, they demand a new leader and want to make an idol. We read in Exodus 32:1, “When the people saw that Moses was so long in coming down from the mountain, the people gathered against Aaron and said to him, “Come, make us a god who shall go before us, for that man Moses, who brought us from the land of Egypt — we do not know what has happened to him.” The question here is, in the minds of the Children of Israel, did they see the golden calf as a replacement for Moses or as a replacement for God? If they perceived it as a replacement for Moses, why did they say, “make us a god”? But if they perceived it as their new God, why does the verse conclude with the words, “for that man Moses … we do not know what has happened to him”? An argument could be made for both, and in the end, it is probably some of both. The Children of Israel are indeed a spiritually needy and immature people, uncertain and insecure in their faith, and this is a theme throughout the Torah. And just as they are figuring out how to be a people of faith, God is learning how to provide for the people’s spiritual needs. At the time of this week’s parashah, the Israelites do not yet have a mishkan in which to feel the strong spiritual presence of God. God instructs Moses to accept gifts for God from all those Israelites whose hearts are so moved, for the building of a mishkan, a portable sanctuary, so that God “may dwell among them” (Ex. 25:8). By asking those whose hearts are so moved, God is inviting participation from the people in creating a place where God dwells among them. Although they, like us, have been taught that God’s presence is everywhere, not in one place, they have not yet rid themselves of the notion that a god and a piece of land were tied together. They do not yet know in their hearts that wherever they go, God goes with them — into the desert, to the land of Canaan. The very name of the sanctuary, mishkan, connotes the presence of God is in their midst, that God is in the neighborhood. Another way that God will seek to provide for the people’s spiritual needs, in the Book of Leviticus, is by instructing the Children of Israel that they are to offer sacrifices to God in the mishkan. To the modern reader, the sacrifices seem primitive, but to the biblical Israelite, it was vital, for it helped to transition them from the pagan customs that surrounded them in Egypt, to a system of prayer, study and performance of mitzvot that we now value. The commentators felt that the mishkan and the sacrificial system were God’s compromise, a way to lead us from idolatry to monotheism, giving the people something tangible to grasp. Like the Israelites, we may not feel as though we are fully mature in our relationship with God. We may long to grow in spirit and can take inspiration from the idea that, like our ancestors, we can grow in our understanding of God and our faith. Although we are not expected to be spiritually perfect, we are called upon to continually sharpen our spiritual senses. Rabbi Daniel Feder is the spiritual leader at Reform Peninsula Temple Sholom in Burlingame. He can be reached at [email protected]. Rabbi Daniel Feder Also On J. Music Ukraine's Kommuna Lux brings klezmer and Balkan soul to Bay Area Religion Free and low-cost High Holiday services around the Bay Area Bay Area Israeli American reporter joins J. through California fellowship Local Voice Israel isn’t living up to its founding aspirations Subscribe to our Newsletter I would like to receive the following newsletters: Weekday J From Our Sponsors (helps fund our journalism) Your Sunday J Holiday Bytes