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The Mishkan was meant to unify, because it was not a temple (Vayakhel-Pekudei)

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Is the Talmud destroying us today, the way the Beit Hamikdash destroyed us twice?

The creation of the Mishkan/Tabernacle was meant to be a project in which every single Israelite, male and female, high born and low, priest and pedestrian, were meant to have a part. The obsessive use of the inclusive word כל – “every” –  in Shemot/Exodus 35 underscores and reinforces  the all-embracing nature of the Mishkan project:|

וכל אשר נמצא אתו עצי שטים

וכל הנשים אשר נשא לבן

כל איש ואשה אשר נדב לבם

(Shemot/Exodus 35: 1-29)

The Mishkan (Tabernacle) was an intense, even frenzied labor of love shared by the entirety of the Bnei Israel. Every bit of wood, precious metals, fabrics, gemstones, was donated – most of it voluntarily. Likewise the actual labor – from the design and craftsmanship to the actual erection of God’s earthly dwelling – was a unified and, indeed, unifying project that excluded no one.

The Mishkan project – which took approximately one year of feverish activity to complete – predates the Meraglim, the episode of the spies. It took place at a time when the Bnei Israel were heading, more or less directly, to the Promised Land. Hence, the Mishkan was clearly not intended as a temporary sanctuary that would become obsolete within a short time, only to be replaced by a grandiloquent, permanent, fixed-base temple. It was a major project in anticipation of settling in Israel.

Indeed there is no hint whatsoever in the Torah that the Mishkan was destined for mothballs at any time in the future. And judging by the costly materials  involved, the emphasis on esthetics, and the fact that, according to Torah, every last detail was dictated to Moshe by the Almighty, the Mishkan was clearly intended to serve the spiritual needs of the Jewish People in the Land of Israel for the duration. It had no expiration date.

The beauty of the Mishkan concept was twofold. On the one had it was manifestly gorgeous. No expense was spared in order to bring it to life. On the other hand it was modest. It was a tent, not an edifice. An itinerant sanctuary that would literally fulfill the words of God:

וְעָ֥שׂוּ לִ֖י מִקְדָּ֑שׁ וְשָֽׁכַנְתִּ֖י בְּתוֹכָֽם

And they shall make Me a sanctuary and I will dwell in their midst (Shemot 26:8 Parshat Terumah)

Taken literally, “to dwell in their midst” would mean that the Mishkan – once Eretz Israel had been conquered and settled – would travel from tribe to tribe, from community to community .This would provide every Jew an opportunity to, at regular intervals, engage with God through its activities and rituals. No part of Eretz Israel would be more important than any other part. No single tribe would lay claim to owning God’s earthly dwelling.

The very idea of royalty is anathema to the Torah. It grudgingly allows, but hardly encourages, the Israelites to choose a king. By its very nature, monarchy – claims of  “divine right” notwithstanding – displaces God’s primacy with a ruler of flesh and blood.

Inevitably, such a mortal monarch becomes besotted with a desire for immortality. And this, in turn, results in the construction of a grand edifice that is declared a “holy temple”, even though it is clearly more a monument to the tastes and ego of the king who built it.

By scuttling the Mishkan and replacing it with the Beit HaMikdash, Shlomo made it very clear that God belonged exclusively in his, Shlomo’s, personal backyard. No longer would the sanctuary belong to the People (and to God). In doing so, Shlomo  was effectively divorcing himself – and sacred ritual – from God’s agency.

Just as the very institution of monarchy was, at best, a distasteful acquiescence on God’s part, likewise – indeed, a foriori – the construction of a grandiloquent temple. If anythign, the Beit Hamikdash was an affront to the Almighty. It was a divisive rather than unifying factor in Israelite life, and inevitably a center of corrption and abomination.

Who could blame the lost ten tribes from becoming pagans and idolators, when they were so manifestly disenfranchised? Did anyone ask their permission to permanently plant the Holy of Holies in one place? By what right did the tribe of Yehuda get to arrogate this honor for itself?

Indeed, had there been no monarch – which would have been God’s preference – there would never have been a Beit HaMikdash.

One can argue that the same thing repeats itself with the Talmud, which the rabbis invented as a substitute for the destroyed Temple.  Here the rabbis effectively distanced themselves from God’s prerogatives and decided that the Torah is now their exclusive domain; to fashion, and mold, and twist, and canoodle with as they see fit.

Just as the construction of Shlomo’s temple distanced the ordinary Israelite from God and His dwelling “in their midst”, likewise the rabbis of the Talmud   turned Torah on its head by upending the most accessible and  democratically empowering verses in the Torah. They thereby disenfranchised both God and His people. This resulted in the equivalent of the disappearance of the ten tribes – a massive exodus of Jews, not only from ritual but from their People, over the ensuing 2,000 years.

The Torah declares clearly and poetically:

לֹ֥א בַשָּׁמַ֖יִם הִ֑וא לֵאמֹ֗ר מִ֣י יַעֲלֶה־לָּ֤נוּ הַשָּׁמַ֙יְמָה֙ וְיִקָּחֶ֣הָ לָּ֔נוּ וְיַשְׁמִעֵ֥נוּ אֹתָ֖הּ וְנַעֲשֶֽׂנָּה׃

It is not in the heavens, that you should say, “Who among us can go up to the heavens and get it for us and impart it to us, that we may observe it?”

וְלֹא־מֵעֵ֥בֶר לַיָּ֖ם הִ֑וא לֵאמֹ֗ר מִ֣י יַעֲבׇר־לָ֜נוּ אֶל־עֵ֤בֶר הַיָּם֙ וְיִקָּחֶ֣הָ לָּ֔נוּ וְיַשְׁמִעֵ֥נוּ אֹתָ֖הּ וְנַעֲשֶֽׂנָּה׃

Neither is it beyond the sea, that you should say, “Who among us can cross to the other side of the sea and get it for us and impart it to us, that we may observe it?”

כִּֽי־קָר֥וֹב אֵלֶ֛יךָ הַדָּבָ֖ר מְאֹ֑ד בְּפִ֥יךָ וּבִֽלְבָבְךָ֖ לַעֲשֹׂתֽוֹ׃

No, the thing is very close to you, in your mouth and in your heart, to observe it. It is not in the sky nor across the sea

(Devarim/Deuteronomy 30:12-14)

The Divine word –Torah – makes it manifestly clear that its mitzvot are easily accessible and understandable, and, hence, practical for ordinary mortals. Effectively, accepting the Torah at its face value is the essential  and eternal bond between ordinary human beings and the Almighty.

Along came the rabbis, a category of mortals that had never before existed,  and literally turned this principle on its head to arrogate for themselves absolute power:

חָזַר וְאָמַר לָהֶם: אִם הֲלָכָה כְּמוֹתִי – מִן הַשָּׁמַיִם יוֹכִיחוּ. יָצָאתָה בַּת קוֹל וְאָמְרָה: מָה לָכֶם אֵצֶל רַבִּי אֱלִיעֶזֶר, שֶׁהֲלָכָה כְּמוֹתוֹ בְּכׇל מָקוֹם.

|(Rabbi Eliezer) then said to them (the rabbis): If the halakha is in accordance with my opinion, Heaven will prove it. A Divine Voice emerged from Heaven and said: Why are you differing with Rabbi Eliezer, as the halakha is in accordance with his opinion in every place that he expresses an opinion?

עָמַד רַבִּי יְהוֹשֻׁעַ עַל רַגְלָיו וְאָמַר: ״לֹא בַשָּׁמַיִם הִיא!״ מַאי ״לֹא בַּשָּׁמַיִם הִיא״? אָמַר רַבִּי יִרְמְיָה: שֶׁכְּבָר נִתְּנָה תּוֹרָה מֵהַר סִינַי, אֵין אָנוּ מַשְׁגִּיחִין בְּבַת קוֹל, שֶׁכְּבָר כָּתַבְתָּ בְּהַר סִינַי בַּתּוֹרָה ״אַחֲרֵי רַבִּים לְהַטֹּת״. אַשְׁכְּחֵיהּ רַבִּי נָתָן לְאֵלִיָּהוּ, אֲמַר לֵיהּ: מַאי עָבֵיד קוּדְשָׁא בְּרִיךְ הוּא בְּהַהִיא שַׁעְתָּא? אֲמַר לֵיהּ: קָא חָיֵיךְ וְאָמַר, ״נִצְּחוּנִי בָּנַי! נִצְּחוּנִי בָּנַי!״

Rabbi Yehoshua stood on his feet and said: It is written: “It is not in heaven” (Deuteronomy 30:12). The Gemara asks: What is the relevance of the phrase “It is not in heaven” in this context? Rabbi Yirmeya says: Since the Torah was already given at Mount Sinai, we do not regard a Divine Voice, as You already wrote at Mount Sinai, in the Torah:

(Talmud Baba Metzia 59b)

Clearly God’s desires and stated opinion are to be ignored, and only the dicta of Talmudic rabbis are to be obeyed. In one fell swoop the rabbis cut God’s will out of the decision-making process and disenfranchised every single Jew by robbing them of their own agency.

Over the ensuing 2,000 years rabbis have replaced God, the Talmud has replaced Torah, halakha has replaced mitzvah, and millions of Jews have evaporated qua Jews.

An argument can be made that Talmudism kept the Jewish People going in the Diaspora.  After all, its roots were in Babylon where a majority – especially the upper crust – of Jews refused to return to the Land of Israel following the first exile. Hence, they needed an ersatz interpretation of Torah in order to keep them going as Jews in their lap of Babylonian luxury. From this recombobulation of Torah emerged the Talmud and the halakhic system, i.e. rabbinic control.

However, to re-import this system to the renewed State of Israel – a system by which it is impossible to maintain an actual functioning country – is suicidal.  And this helps explain the destructive and hateful attitude of haredi Jews who cling to an anachronistic Talmudic model.

The haredi ideal is the galut, a hostile diaspora environment in which Talmud and its legal system can flourish in the dark. They name nearly all their institutions after diaspora towns and villages, and turn the abstract  study of Gemara into a latter-day golden calf.  One can call it Talmudolatry. It is as distant from both God and a viable, organic life as that idol in the desert. It renders its adherents totally dependent on (and hostile to) others for  basic life support

The tribe of Levi – Kohanim and Leviim – were never given a portion in the Land precisely because it was their role to travel with the Mishkan, thereby serving God and the People. And by doing so, the Mishkan became the ultimate democratizer – it gave no single tribe primacy over any other tribe. There was no pride of place;  a particular location was irrelevant.

If we ignore all the myths and Talmudic fantasies about the glory of the Beit HaMikdash, we are left with the awful truth that at no time was either the first or second temple a unifying force for the Jewish People. Like the edifice complex behind the construction of so many synagogues in modern times, they were more a reflection of the ambitions and egotistical needs of mortal monarchs.

Does anyone really think that God would live in a temple built by a villain like Herod? When the Hashmonaim – after their brief moment of spiritual valor – became corrupt kings-cum-priests, was that anything we could be proud of? Is there anything we actually know about the dealings and doings in the second temple – the displays of wealth, the conspicuous consumption, the corruption of Kohanim – that in any way reflected the ideas and ideal of the Mishkan, and served as a suitable dwelling for the Lord?

Indeed, what was it that caused the destruction of the Jewish commonwealth and the exile from our Land? We would like to think it was the destruction of the Beit Hamikdash. I would argue the opposite. That it was the Beit Hamikdash which destroyed the Jewish People, and made exile inevitable.

Had we stuck with God’s plan, there would have been no kings and no temples. We would just have a simple but beautiful Mishkan to which every Jew in Israel could feel a connection; which every Jew in Israel would lovingly help assemble and disassemble when it was the turn of their tribe or community. And it would have been a constant reminder that man, like God, should live in a humble yet esthetic abode, content with enjoying the things that truly matter, and living a life that is both productive and meaningful.


© The Times of Israel (Blogs)