Terumah
Exodus 25:1-27:19
I Kings 5:26-6:13
Terumah, this week’s Torah portion, contains a description of the Ark of the Covenant into which the tablets of the Law and possibly the Urim and the Thumim, instruments of divination, were deposited. Other passages in the Bible name it as the throne of the invisible God (Numbers 10:33-36; I Samuel 4:3-4). Regardless of what it contained or looked like, the Ark and its strange history are most interesting.
Carried in the lead as the Israelites traveled through the desert, it also accompanied them into battle at the walls of Jericho. Later it was captured by the Philistines and wherever it was held, emerods, an inflammatory ailment, struck. Soon the Ark became an unwanted hazard that each town tried to pass on to any other inhabitants oblivious to the danger. Ultimately, the Philistines paid tribute to the Israelites just to get them to take it back (I Samuel 4:1-7:2). The Ark finally ceased its transfer from place to place when David installed it in his new capital, and Solomon finally had it permanently anchored in the Temple (I Kings 8:4-7).
The Ark, covered inside and out with gold, provided the rabbis with rich allegories of flawed people whose inner and outer lives demonstrated great disparity. One rabbinic anecdote tells of a sculptor who worked carefully on every part of a statue, including the back, which was to be set against a wall. A friend inquired about the sculptor’s conscientious work on the part that would never be seen. The sculptor replied, “While most people will never see the back, God will see it because He sees everywhere.”
Folk etymology attributes the origin of the word “sincere” from the Latin sine meaning “without” and cera meaning “wax” because classical sculptors were thought to hide imperfections in stone with wax. Thus, an artisan who certified that his sculpture did not have wax covering cracks and gaps signed his work “sincerely,” to indicate that the statue was what it seemed to be.
The symbol of sincerity provided by the gold-covered Ark also points to the genuine search we and our ancestors have made to find God. The Israelites believed that the magnificent Ark and later, the majestic Temple in Jerusalem would provide a location where God would be present. However, when Solomon dedicated his magnificent Temple, he eloquently captured the inability to contain God in any place, no matter how imposing, sacred or grand: “But will God really dwell on earth? Even the heavens to their uttermost reaches cannot contain You, how much less this House that I have built! (I Kings 8:27, also see II Chronicles 6:18).
That the author of Terumah understood that no ark or temple can contain God is apparent from his statement, “V’ahsoo li mikdash v’shachanti b’tochahm — Let them build Me a holy place that I may dwell in them” (Exodus 25:8). To the author, God dwells not in it, but in them, as if to teach that building sacred space for God allows God to enter the people, His real dwelling place. By extension, individuals need to construct a location with gold inside and out in order to become an ark of holiness where God can reside. Victor Hugo recognized the capacity of the heart to act as God’s dwelling place:
“There is one spectacle grander than the sea,
“That is the sky;
“There is one spectacle grander than the sky,
“That is the interior of the soul.”
There was once a masterful teacher. No one had ever surpassed the depth, variety and enticing quality of his wisdom. His students would frequently inquire about the source from which he drew this inexhaustible store of sagacity. He told them that it was all written in a book that they would inherit after he was dead. The day after his death, the disciples found the book exactly where he told them it would be, but there was but one page in the book and but one sentence on the page. It read: “Understand the difference between the container and the content and the fountain of wisdom will open before your eyes.” When we engage in the sacred task of constructing willing hearts of gold, God draws closer and dwells in them. Thus, we become vessels for God’s presence.