The word mishkan, tabernacle, appears to come from the same root as found in the word shechinah...both words refer to the dwelling of G-d, the presence of G-d in our midst. The Israelites perhaps had an easier time understanding this concept. Afterall, the mishkan accompanied them on all of their journeys. A cloud covered it and the presence of the Lord filled the Tabernacle, preventing their journey to proceed, but when the cloud lifted, the journey would resume. Then a fire would appear in it by night, in view of all the house of Israel. There should have been no doubt in the minds of those present that G-d who had seemed absent during their enslavement in Egypt was now present with them on their journey through the wilderness to the the Promised Land.
We don't have the mishkan, yet we still talk about the shechinah in our own time. We talk about bringing G-d's presence into our midst. We hear about the shechinah at weddings, birthing ceremonies, and even at the end of life's journey. Those special times in life, make it is easier for G-d's presence to be noticed. When we watch the daily news, see sights of violence and bloodshed, hear words of hatred being spewed across the airwaves, we might feel as if the Shechinah has somehow withdrawn from our presence. We might have a sense that we long to reverse the events in the world to bring back the sense we have when we say we can feel the light of the shechinah.
How do you understand this concept of the immanence of G-d? How do you relate to the idea that even in this day and age we can invite G-d's presence to dwell in our midst? Does that idea seem foreign to you or does it speak to your soul?
Perhaps, it is exactly when life is seeming routine, that we need to focus on the lesson that the Israelites learned in the desert. They learned that with the work of their hands that could build a foundation in which G-d's presence would dwell. We might not have the goal of building a mishkan in the traditional sense of the word, but we certainly can understand that the work of our hands can build a world that is qualitatively different from a world where we remain apathetic or uninvolved. We can do holy work, we can use the mitzvot to add a dimension of holiness to our own lives and the lives of others. We can embrace a vision of a world that will be filled with the presence of G-d. In fact in our service, we speak about that world every time we chant aleinu together. We can strive to fill ourselves with Torah knowledge, not just for the sake of being a "Chacham...a Torah scholar...but for the sake of being able to apply the eternal truths found in Torah to our own lives. When we learn to turn our knowledge of the mitzvot into a living reality, then our souls will become the mishkan in which we will sense G-d's presence.
When life is going well for us, it is easy to say that we feel the tangible signs of G-d's presence in our midst. The challenge is how to feel that same sense of connection when the cloud cover seems more apparent than the light of the fire. The real test of faith is how to remain confident that the cloud will lift, the light will reappear and that no matter how thick the cloud is, we must continue to use the work of our hands in such a way that the shechinah can indeed find a place to dwell within us.
We don't have the mishkan, yet we still talk about the shechinah in our own time. We talk about bringing G-d's presence into our midst. We hear about the shechinah at weddings, birthing ceremonies, and even at the end of life's journey. Those special times in life, make it is easier for G-d's presence to be noticed. When we watch the daily news, see sights of violence and bloodshed, hear words of hatred being spewed across the airwaves, we might feel as if the Shechinah has somehow withdrawn from our presence. We might have a sense that we long to reverse the events in the world to bring back the sense we have when we say we can feel the light of the shechinah.
How do you understand this concept of the immanence of G-d? How do you relate to the idea that even in this day and age we can invite G-d's presence to dwell in our midst? Does that idea seem foreign to you or does it speak to your soul?
Perhaps, it is exactly when life is seeming routine, that we need to focus on the lesson that the Israelites learned in the desert. They learned that with the work of their hands that could build a foundation in which G-d's presence would dwell. We might not have the goal of building a mishkan in the traditional sense of the word, but we certainly can understand that the work of our hands can build a world that is qualitatively different from a world where we remain apathetic or uninvolved. We can do holy work, we can use the mitzvot to add a dimension of holiness to our own lives and the lives of others. We can embrace a vision of a world that will be filled with the presence of G-d. In fact in our service, we speak about that world every time we chant aleinu together. We can strive to fill ourselves with Torah knowledge, not just for the sake of being a "Chacham...a Torah scholar...but for the sake of being able to apply the eternal truths found in Torah to our own lives. When we learn to turn our knowledge of the mitzvot into a living reality, then our souls will become the mishkan in which we will sense G-d's presence.
When life is going well for us, it is easy to say that we feel the tangible signs of G-d's presence in our midst. The challenge is how to feel that same sense of connection when the cloud cover seems more apparent than the light of the fire. The real test of faith is how to remain confident that the cloud will lift, the light will reappear and that no matter how thick the cloud is, we must continue to use the work of our hands in such a way that the shechinah can indeed find a place to dwell within us.
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