Reaching deep inside my bag of teacher tricks, I divided the class into two groups, providing each with a raw egg, plastic drinking straws and a roll of masking tape. Their assignment was to work together to build the tabernacle with only the materials provided.
The one catch: They couldn’t talk. They worked in complete silence (that is, aside from some giggles and nudges). A half-hour later, they emerged with delicate creations in hand.
One group had built a dome of drinking straws arching high at the top and round at the base, with the egg, completely surrounded by masking tape, suspended in the center. The dome represented the Jewish community — linked together, yet diverse and open. The egg represented the Torah — accessible to all yet, sometimes difficult to reach, and often fragile. The layers of tape protecting the Torah — I mean egg — represented the way we study Torah: multiple layers of meaning that need to be gently peeled to find the wonder within.
One egg, lots of straws, add some tape, mix well with Jewish children: the result — magic.