Hand in hand with Parashat Vayakhel, Parashat Pekudei is one of the most beautiful and optimistic portions of the Bible.
Free of conflict, rebellion, punishment, plagues, or miracles, and devoid of laws or judgments that indirectly- or directly- reflect humanity’s flawed moral character, these two portions focus on action, construction, and the blessed creation of the creation of the Mishkan, the portable Tabernacle, in the wilderness as testimony in it.
The joyful mobilization of the people for this project is so moving and filled with joy that even the Bible- usually not one to lavish flattering titles on the Israelites, to put it mildly- is swept up in the optimistic spirit of the portions and praises them with descriptions like "generous in heart" and "generous in spirit".
The pinnacle of this idyllic vision comes at the end of the portion, with God descending, wrapped, cloud-like, as a groom in a tallit, to dwell in the Mishkan. And I suspect that, if it were possible, many would be happy to close the Bible at this point and return during the Shabbat Mincha prayer to the Book of Genesis- skipping Leviticus with its sacrifices, Numbers with its disappointments, and Deuteronomy with its repetitions. Give us the happy ending: embraced by God under the wings of the Shekhinah in an endless honeymoon in the wilderness, in an uninhabited land.
But life isn't a honeymoon.
Neither is the Bible, which reflects life.
Its heroes are flawed. They fall, rise, and fall again.
And the Israelites, in their various incarnations, also experience throughout the generations both defeats and victories, fractures and healing, war and peace, building and destruction, exile and redemption.
And so do we.
Thousands of years later, we discover that we are dancing the same dance, circling the same floor: rising and falling and rising again between Mount Sinai, the Golden Calf, and the building of the Mishkan (Tabernacle). Between settling the land and its destruction. Between exile and redemption.
And while it might be a bit naïve to think that we- of all generations- will be the ones to break free from this maddening dance, it would be a true crime to think that we don't have the ability- or rather, the obligation- to dance our most beautiful dance within it.
These are days of worry, war, and division.
A heavy cloud has descended upon our Mishkan, but this time, it is not the divine, feather-light, embracing cloud born of generosity, contribution, and connection. This time it is a cloud of destruction, drunken with power and division, thickened by the poisonous fumes of a regime that incites, mocks, provokes, and misleads. A cloud of ethical and moral corruption threatens to destroy every good part of this land, and no one knows what it will look like once the cloud lifts and disappears.
But whatever the outcome, we don’t have the privilege to watch this event from the sidelines.
We don’t have the luxury of sipping punch at the back of the hall, waiting for the lights to go out. We must stay to fight and to dance.
At this very moment, our only moral and ethical obligation is to join the tens of thousands of concerned citizens already filling the streets of the country. To ascend the mountain, to assemble, to enlist, to contribute, to sacrifice time, livelihood, family, money, and personal freedom to banish this evil cloud that has grown among us.
And if we succeed - and why shouldn’t we? We will then build a new and more worthy Mishkan.
A Mishkan of broken tablets and whole ones. A Mishkan of the covenant. A Mishkan of connection. Of morality. Of friendship. Of human rights. Of equality and hope. A Mishkan of mutual responsibility, reconciliation, and peace.
Yes, peace.
It is possible. It is within reach.
As long as we are still here, dancing.
Translation: Rabbi Dana Sharon and Rabbi Rachel Druck
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Rabbi Mori Lidar is the regional rabbi for the Reform Movement in the Misgav Regional Council and is a certified men's circle facilitator through Tel Aviv University. He previously worked in the Education Department of Rabbis for Human Rights alongside Rabbi Nava Hefetz.