Unsafe at MIT
7 min read
Slavery doesn’t end when the chains are broken. According to the Ramban, the Jewish journey to freedom didn’t conclude when they marched out of Egypt, crossed the sea, or even received the Torah at Sinai. True freedom arrived with an architectural project that revolutionized humanity’s relationship with the Divine, forever.
This week’s Torah portion is the first of five portions that almost exclusively focus on the construction of the Mishkan - the Tabernacle that houses God’s Divine Presence. Why does building God's sanctuary get such prominence in Exodus, the book of our national formation? Wouldn't these architectural details fit better in Leviticus, the book about the Tabernacle and its priestly service?
The Ramban1 offers a striking answer: the Egyptian slavery didn't end when we left Egypt. It ended when we built the Mishkan. Why would constructing a sanctuary complete our journey to freedom?
The answer to this question struck me deeply a few years ago as I prepared for Passover. To more viscerally connect with my ancestors’ experience of liberation, I decided to research African slavery in the United States—a period of recent history with its own slavery and exodus story. In my research, I stumbled upon a dossier with hundreds of first-hand accounts of African slaves during their liberation. As I read, I began to see a shocking theme: the majority of newly liberated slaves would almost immediately return to their original masters as sharecroppers. Though these men and women were released from physical bondage, they lacked a higher purpose to guide their newfound freedom.
This insight sheds light on the Ramban's revolutionary understanding: the Exodus wasn’t complete when the Jews left Egypt. Freedom isn’t just about escaping slavery; it’s about building something greater. For the Jewish nation, that purpose was the Mishkan—a Divine mission to build God’s earthly sanctuary. Until Sinai, we had been passive recipients of God’s miracles - from the plagues to the splitting sea to the manna. But with the command to build the Mishkan, we became active partners in creation itself.
The Mishkan wasn’t just symbolic; it was humanity’s first collaborative project with the Divine. Skilled artisans, weavers, and donors all contributed their talents and resources, meticulously following God’s specifications. Through this effort, the Jewish people transitioned from passive recipients of miracles to active partners in manifesting God’s presence in the world.
“Where Christianity sees humanity as in need of being saved, and Islam calls on them to submit to the will of God, Judaism advances the daring idea that humanity and God are partners in the work of Creation” - Rabbi Jonathan Sacks
I'll conclude with one final dimension to this divine partnership. In God's initial command to build the Mishkan, He says something very strange: "Make for Me a Sanctuary and I will dwell within you". Why "within you" rather than "within it"?
The Malbim explains that the Mishkan's very construction mirrored the human form - each vessel corresponding to different aspects of our physical and spiritual anatomy. Through its construction, we learned how to transform our entire being - from our basic physical drives to our highest spiritual aspirations - into a dwelling place for the divine.2 As Rabbi Moshe Alshich explains: the essential home of God's presence isn't in a building; it's within each and every one of us. When we use our freedom to create a home for God in the world, we become vessels for His presence.3 As Rabbi Sacks beautifully expressed: "It's not what God does for us that transforms us, but what we do for God."
A young boy, soon to be Bar Mitzvahed, once went to visit the Lubavitcher Rebbe. As he was turning to leave, the Rebbe asked him "Are you a baseball fan?"
"Yes" he responded.
"The Yankees or the Dodgers?"
"Dodgers."
"Ever go to a game?"
"Yes - just last month!"
"How was it?"
"Well, it was disappointing - they were losing 7-2 in the sixth inning so we left early."
"And the players - did they leave too?"
"No! The players have to stay!"
"Why? Explain to me how this works."
The boy answered: "In Baseball, there are players and there are fans. The fans can leave when they like - they're not part of the game and the game continues after they leave. But the players need to stay and try to win until the game is over."
With a twinkle in his eye, the Rebbe said to the boy: "In life, there are fans and there are players. I suggest you become a player."
Though we no longer have a Mishkan, the call to be 'players' in God's world is as urgent as ever. Every mitzvah we perform is an act of creation, a way of bringing God’s presence into our lives and the world around us. This Shabbos, I invite you to become a player. Choose one small mitzvah you plan to perform, whether it’s lighting Shabbat candles, making Kiddush, or reciting a blessing. As you do it, reflect on this act as your own way of building a sanctuary for God. Feel the satisfaction of contributing to something greater—of building holiness within and without.
Each mitzvah is a building block, transforming both our world and ourselves into a sanctuary for the Divine.
Shabbat Shalom!
Avraham
Inspired by the teachings of the late Rabbi Jonathan Sacks, may peace be upon him.
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