Timeless Torah

Textual nuances so slight, that they are easy to miss, should not contain fundamental clues as to the unique challenge of being a Jew. But this one does. First, the background: Exactly one year after the Jews had begun their preparations for the Exodus, the House of G-d was ready. There is an unmistakable parallel between Moses’ completion of the Mishkan (Sanctuary) and G-d finalizing His creation: “Moses finished (vayechal) the work (hamelachah)” vs. “G-d finished (vayechal) on the seventh day the work (melachto).”

The symbolism here expresses a revolution. In Genesis, G-d created a home for man. In Exodus, man created a home for G-d. This is G-d’s way of conferring dignity on mankind. Thus the entire narrative of the first two Books of the Bible is, in truth, a single story with one overarching theme: the transfer of responsibility of creation from heaven to earth, from G-d to the image-of-G-d.

The final verses of the second Book detail the relationship between the “cloud of glory” and the micro-cosmos, the Desert Sanctuary built by the Israelites. Remember, the Mishkan was not a fixed structure. It was made in such a way that it could be dismantled and carried in parts. This occurred when the ‘Cloud’ moved from its resting place over the Sanctuary to a position outside the camp, signaling the direction they must take. This is how the Torah describes it:

“When the cloud lifted from above the Mishkan, the Israelites went onward in all their journeys, but if the cloud did not lift, they did not set out…So the cloud of the L-rd was over the Mishkan…in all their journeys.”

There is a small but significant difference between the two times, “in all their journeys.” In the first instance the words are to be taken literally. When the cloud moved on ahead, the people knew they were meant to travel. In the second instance, however, the words cannot be taken literally. The cloud was not over the Mishkan in all their journeys. On the contrary: it was there only when they stopped traveling and pitched camp.

Noting this, Rashi comments: “A place where they encamped is also called a journey…because from the place of encampment they always set out again on a new journey.”

The point may be linguistic, but the message is anything but. Rashi has encapsulated in a few brief words the existential truth at the heart of Jewish identity. So long as we have not yet reached our destination, even a place of rest is still called a journey - because we know we are not here forever.

To be a Jew is to travel, and to know that where we are currently is a mere resting place, defined by the knowledge that inevitably - after one day, or perhaps, a millennium - we will have to move on. This is the symbol of Jewish life.

Why? Because the gods of the ancient world were gods of a place: Babylon, Moav, Edom. Theology was linked to geography. When Pharaoh said to Moses, “Who is the L-rd that I should obey Him?” he meant - here, I am the sovereign power. Egypt has its own gods. Within its boundaries, they alone rule, and they have delegated that power to me, their earthly representative. There may indeed be a G-d of Israel, but his authority does not extend to Egypt. Divine sovereignty, they believed, was like political sovereignty: It had borders.

Judaism presented a new, radical idea: that G-d, being everywhere, can be found anywhere. Like the Jew, He is the “wandering G-d.” Just as in the desert His cloud of glory accompanied the Israelites on their long and meandering journey, so too “when Israel went into exile, the Divine presence went with them.” G-d cannot be confined.

Unlike other nations who went into exile, Jews, with few exceptions neither converted to the dominant faith nor assimilated to the prevailing culture. The sole reason was that they never mistook a temporary location for ultimate destination. “Now we are here,” they said at the beginning of the Pesach Seder, “but next year, in the land of Israel.”

The aged prophet Elijah was informed by G-d that he must appoint Elisha as his successor. “Elijah found Elisha plowing…Elijah threw his cloak around him. Elisha then left his oxen and ran after Elijah. ‘Let me kiss my father and mother good-by,’ he said, ‘and then I will come with you.’….Then he set out to follow Elijah and became his attendant.”