“And they will make me a sanctuary and I will dwell among them. ” This remarkable instruction at the opening of this Shabbat Torah reading (Exodus 25-28) raises the question whether it implies the contraction of God of the Universe to a dwelling in a specific construction/space.

Indeed one midrash recognizes this possible dilemma and recounts that Moses upon hearing God’s instruction stepped back saying: God of the Universe, the heaven is your seat the earth is the place of your feet, how can one space contain your presence?” The answer, however, is enfolded in second part of the verse above: “and I will dwell among them.” Since the first part of the verse deals with building of the Tabernacle the expectation is that second part of the verse would say “And I will dwell in it.” Yet, surprisingly this is not what the verse declares; instead it says “and I will dwell among them,” among the people of Israel, and not in this or that space. From the words of the verse we learn that God ordered the building of the Tabernacle not for the sake of having a place to dwell in but so that He could dwell among his people who will follow Him and keep his covenant. And God in return will dwell among them. read more

On a brutally snowy day in February, a day when roads and parking lots are dangerously slippery, some forty women come to a book signing for a local writer. They come to honor the author and hear her read selection from her memoire.  Some of the passages are heartbreakingly moving and she chooses to close her reading with a narrative of God’s presence: “I sat near the lakeshore to pray the Shabbat service… ‘Such a serene spot,’ I said aloud to my congregation of rocks, water, trees and a passing gull…I glanced down at my prayer book and resumed my private service…I heard Julian stage-whisper, ‘B.J.’ I wondered why he was calling me when he could see what I was doing. I uttered the final words, then looked up to see him in a canoe bracketed by two loons. We love the gorgeous black and white water birds with their haunting cry…And he managed to usher two to my chapel. As if in answer to my unspoken prayer. As if to emphasize God’s wondrous presence.” read more

A father-in-law makes the difficult decision to tell his married daughter and his grandsons who live in his household that they should reunite with their father who is encamped at the Mountain of God. This is not an ordinary family since the son-in-law happens to be a political leader of a nation-in-the-making, an overburdened very public man and not exactly marriage material with very little time for family responsibilities. The father-in-law knows about the prominence and fame of the leader yet his compassion for his son in-law is so remarkable that this week’s Parsha (Exodus 18:1-20:23) takes its name Yitro from this father-in-law a Midianite priest the father of Moses’ wife. read more

The experience of exodus from Egypt has been a founding event / an indispensable foundation in the shaping of Jewish identity, religion and values, and is inscribed in the first of the Ten Commandments, “I the Lord am your God who brought you out of Egypt, the house of bondage.”[1]

The narrative of slavery and the exodus to freedom is the foundation for numerous mitzvot, commandments in Torah, among them the sanctity of the Sabbath, Passover, Pentecost and Feast of the Tabernacles, and mitzvot such as laying of phylacteries and social justice commandments of treating with compassion the marginalized, the poor, the needy, the widow, the orphan and the Ger, the stranger. The moral ethical call to treat the stranger with compassion has for generations been embedded in the sign, “because you have been strangers in the land of Egypt.” read more

You know, Chamoodim*, Safta** didn’t always stay home and bake cookies and play Uno with you. Long ago I was a super woman with a cape and a torch and work to be done and wars to win. Eshet Lapidot-(Torch Woman) was my hashtag. God provided the spark. Baby on my hip and one on my lap. I Listened and judged while the babes (your moms) nursed and napped. Under the palm tree day after day, this one told me his tzores and that one complained of his neighbors. The Rabbis thought I sat under that palm tree outside because it was proper and more appropriate, but the truth was it was hard enough keeping the house tidy with my crazy working hours and an active family and I didn’t want everybody traipsing in with their dirty, dusty feet. I got good at the judging gig and the people listened to me and trusted me and my reputation grew. read more