Wednesday, February 13, 2013

Divrei Rav Josh- Parshat Terumah: A Sanctuary of Learning

In Being Adolescent: Conflict and Growth in the Teenage Years, Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi and Reed Larson found a disturbing number of teenagers who primarily associated time in the classroom with boredom.   The authors wrote:

“Compared to other contexts in their lives, time in class is associated with lower-than-average states on nearly every self-report dimension.  Most notably, students report feeling sad, irritable, and bored; concentration is difficult; they feel self-conscious and strongly wish they were doing something else” (Being Adolescent, p. 204-205).

While this passage may be shocking, it is not terribly surprising, as it gets to the root of the challenge of keeping students engaged in any educational setting.  In a classroom, a teacher must challenge themselves to make the student the central nervous-system of the learning, so that the teacher is attuned to how each student is connected to what taking in class on any given day.   As a result, an ideal educational setting is one in which there is a constant sense that the teacher and the learner are in-sync with one another, a paradigm that is envisioned in Parshat Terumah’s command to construct the mishkan.

Parshat Terumah opens with God idrawing a connection between the importance of the Israelites building this mishkan, and God’s ability to remain a constant presence.  The parasha states the following (emphasis mine):

“And the Lord spoke unto Moses, saying: ‘Speak unto the children of Israel, that they take for Me an offering; of every man whose heart makes him willing you shall take My offering.  And this is the offering which you shall take of them: gold, and silver, and brass; and blue, and purple, and scarlet, and fine linen, and goats’ hair; and rams’ skins dyed red, and seal-skins, and acacia-wood; oil for the light, spices for the anointing oil, and for the sweet incense; onyx stones, and stones to be set, for the ephod, and for the breastplate.   And let them make Me a sanctuary, that I may dwell amongst them’” (Shemot 25:1-8).

For our rabbinic commentators, the question was asked as to what is the connection between the revelation of laws and principles received by the Israelites at Har Sinai in the previous parshiyot, and the command to build the mishkan in Parshat Terumah, a construction that will occupy the rest of Sefer Shemot.   

In many cases, our rabbinic commentators view the command in Parshat Terumah to build a mishkan as intimately connected to the experience of standing at Har Sinai, yet each commentator draws a different lessons as to what we can learn from that connection.   The Ramban writes in his Torah commentary that the mishkan itself contains an esoteric allusion to the mount of receiving the Torah at Har Sinai.  He writes:

And the esoteric meaning of the Mishkan is that divine glory that dwelt on Har Sinai will in a hidden way dwell in it. And just as it says, “And the glory of God dwelt on Har Sinai,”… so it says with regard to the Mishkan, “And the glory of God filled the Mishkan.” And within the context of the Mishkan, the glory revealed to Israel at Har Sinai remained with them … and just as it says, “From the heavens He sounded His voice”… so too by the Mishkan, “And he heard the voice speaking to him from above the kaporet from between the keruvim” (Ramban on Shemot 25:1)

According to Ramban, since God’s presence would also remain within the mishkan itself, the construction and use of the mishkan would provide a constant link for the Israelites to the revelation at Har Sinai.

In a modern commentary, the Italian rabbi and scholar Umberto Cassuto argues that while the mishkan certainly alludes to the experience at Har Sinai, the construction of the mishkan also addresses the potential danger for the Israelites to lose their connection to God as they journeyed throughout the desert, thereby necessitating the construction of a portable vessel in which God’s presence remains.  Cassuto writes:

“we must realize that the children of Israel, after they have been privileged to witness the Revelation of God on Mount Sinai, were about to journey from there and thus draw away from the site of the theophany.  So long as they were encamped in the palace, they were conscious of God’s nearness; but once they set out on their journey, it seemed to them as though the link had been broken, unless there were in their midst a tangible symbol of God’s presence among them.  It was function of the Tabernacle to serve as such a symbol” (Umberto Cassuto, A Commentary on the Book of Exodus, Jerusalem: Magnes Press, 1967, page 319).

Cassuto’s commentary alludes to the universal spiritual challenge that everyone faces when they feel physically distant from God.  As moderns, it is certainly a common concern that since God no longer reveals himself as he did during the age of the exodus from Egypt or even in the age of the prophets, we might draw the conclusion that God is no longer present at all.   This modern concern was not lost upon the Torah, and our rabbinic commentators, for, as Cassuto argues, “The nexus between Israel and the Tabernacle is a perpetual extension of the bond that was forged at Sinai between the people and their God,” forever providing the Israelites the opportunity to recognize God’s closeness in their journey through the wilderness (Ibid.).

Finally, in her psychological approach to the weekly parasha, Aviva Zornberg argues that the mishkan’s construction provides the Israelites the opportunity to transition from receiving God’s world-making presence at Har Sinai to creating a spiritual world on earth that they themselves must construct.  She writes:

“The aim of Exodus is to help its participants to take apart a private world that has held them captive.  In the end, after their physical release from slavery, a new recognition of inner conflict, even of potentially tragic inner conflict, will be the key to experiencing themselves as active “makers” of the world” (Aviva Zornberg, The Particulars of Rapture: Reflections on Exodus, 322).

Zornberg’s perspective appears to diverge from the perspective of the Ramban and Cassuto, yet she is actually addressing a similar concern.  According to Zornberg, while the experience at Har Sinai marked the climactic moment when the Israelties’ experience in Egypt was forever shattered, the building of the mishkan is meant to mark the first moment when the Israelites begin constructing their own world.  However, in construct this new world, the mishkan represents a space that will keep the Israelites and God forever connected to one another.

Just as the Israelites were charged with the task of constructing a spiritual conduit between them and God in Parshat Terumah, each student at Schechter is faced with the daily task of connecting themselves to the learning that takes place in the classroom.  The challenge for each educator and member of our community is to help students see pathways to engage a learner’s curiosity and passions, so that each day is the opportunity to construct a new world of rich, robust learning.   May each be worthy of that task, creating links to learning that may each day a sanctuary of education for our children.

Shabbat Shalom!

No comments:

Post a Comment