Timeless Torah

“The L-rd has chosen Betzalel…filled him with the spirit of G-d, with wisdom, understanding and knowledge in all kinds of crafts; to make artistic designs for work in gold, silver and bronze, to cut and set stones, to work in wood and to engage in all kinds of artistic craftsmanship.” (Ex. 35: 30-33)

This is not the first time we’ve encountered the figure of Betzalel. When first introduced, we discovered he was but a thirteen year old lad. But his pedigree was unparalleled. His grandfather was none other than Chur, the fellow who gave up his life trying to stop the construction of the Golden Calf. His great-grandmother Miriam, another rebel, defied the murderous Pharaoh’s order of wholesale infanticide. True, he was of the new generation and not of the old guard who stood up against the Egyptians, but he was willing, ready and capable of standing up for G-d and His glory.

But what made Betzalel unique was not his yichus; all Jews boasted grandparents that were good, pious, and in some cases even holy, individuals. Our young architect was rare for another reason: he was a Biblical Jew who utilized his artistry to craft and shape religious artifacts into objects of beauty in the service of G-d. Early Judaism, in sharp contrast to ancient Greece, did not cherish the visual arts. Graven images, icons, and statues were associated with idolatry. The idea that one might worship “the work of men’s hands” was pagan and anathema to ancient Israelites.

No surprise there: A religion with an invisible G-d would obviously have a negative attitude towards representational art. True, there are some famous illustrated manuscripts from the Middle Ages (such as the Bird’s Head Haggada, Bavaria, circa 1300) in which human figures are given bird’s heads to avoid representing the full human form. One can even travel further back in time to Tzippori, an ancient Jewish community in Galilee. There on the floor of a fifth-century synagogue is a mosaic (46’ by 16’) decorated with scenes depicting the Hebrew patriarchs Abraham and Isaac, a zodiac circle, and the Temple. Nonetheless, most scholars and historians agree: while art is not forbidden as such in Torah, it was outside influences (in Tzippori, Greek and Roman) that motivated Jewish religious art.

That is why positive references to art in Rabbinic literature are rare. One example is Maimonides who, in the introduction to his commentary to Avos says the following: “If one is afflicted with melancholy, he should cure it by listening to…melodies, by walking in gardens and fine buildings, by sitting before beautiful forms, and by things like this which delight the soul…” But the very terms in which Maimonides describes the aesthetic experience make it clear that he sees art strictly as a means to an end, and not as a value unto itself.

Another controversial figure, Rabbi Abraham Kook, who was stuck in London during the First World War, had these thoughts on the subject: I would visit the National Gallery…the paintings I loved the most were those of Rembrandt…They reminded me of the rabbinic statement about…when G-d created the light on the first day. It was so…luminous…From time to time there are great men whom G-d blesses with a vision of that hidden light. I believe that Rembrandt was one of them. (Jewish Chronicle, Sept. 1935)

Rembrandt, as is known, had a special affection for Jews. He visited them, painted their weddings, synagogues and scores of scenes from the Hebrew Bible. Curiously enough, although Jews constituted just over 1 percent of Amsterdam’s population, almost one-fifth of the artist’s male subjects were Jewish. Perhaps what Rabbi Kook saw in Rembrandt’s paintings was his attempt (most notably in his self-portraits) not to idealize his subjects. The light that shines from them is, simply, their humanity. Here too, the Rabbi saw beauty as a tool for telling the story of a people; for allowing their inner soul to shine through.

So, what constitutes true beauty in Judaism? In Hebrew, there are two words for beauty, Yofi and Hod. The essential difference between the two terms lies in the interplay of surface and substance. For example, the vessels in the Mishkan were in the main fashioned out of wood and coated with gold. True Jewish beauty is when the packaging of an object directs us toward its content, purpose, and function. Take Moses’ “karnei hod - rays of glory” that graced him when he descended from Sinai. These karnei hod were in effect the overflow of his inner spiritual glory which his corporeal body could no longer contain within.

Ancient Greece endowed the world with yofi, Israel with hod. The Greek worldview restricted to superficial beauty declared, “What you see is what you get.” This is beauty for its own sake. Not so with the Jewish nation. Our eyes are opened to the glory that lies beyond our physical world.

Judaism was not indifferent to aesthetics. From the concept of hiddur mitzvah so that our mitzvohs are beautiful, to the priestly garments designed, “for honor and adornment” (Ex 28:2), it is patently clear that Judaism did not scorn beauty. Indeed, beauty is worthwhile when used to enhance the holy. Thus, the Sages praised the Temple for its beauty as in, “One who never saw the Temple never saw a beautiful building.”

All of the above brings us back to Betzalel. His secret lies in his name. It means, “In the shadow of G-d.” Betzalel’s gift lay in his ability to communicate, through his work, that art can be utilized as a window to G-d. Jewish religious art is never art for art’s sake. It points to something beyond itself. Thus in the Sanctuary one felt the Divine Presence, as the Torah affirms, “The glory of G-d” which “filled the Mishkan.” (Ex. 40: 35) .

Jews always believed in hadras kodesh/the beauty of holiness. (Ps. 29: 2) Betzalel and the other artists appreciated that ideal. Their work on the Sanctuary had a spiritual goal: to make us aware that everything in the universe is a work of art, testifying to the supreme Artist, G-d Himself. So while the Greek idolized the holiness of beauty; the Jew merely used his craft to affirm that there is beauty in holiness.