The writer is the former president of the International Rabbinical Assembly and head of the Rabbinical Court of the Masorti Movement and the Rabbinical Assembly of Israel.
Ask a child where God dwells and he or she will most likely point to the heavens. Since we ourselves use the expression Avinu she'bashamayim – "our Father who is in heaven," the child has a good basis for pointing there.
When the first Soviet cosmonaut returned from his journey into space, he proudly announced to all that he had looked around heaven but there was no God to be found. Ancient pagans had no difficulty in answering that question. For the Greeks, it was Mount Olympus. In Babylonia, they built great pyramid-like structures called ziggurats where the gods could dwell.
On one level, Jews could answer that question by quoting the well known psalm, "Blessed is the Lord from Zion, He who dwells in Jerusalem" (Psalm 135:21). Later Judaism posited a manifestation of God called the Shechina – the Indwelling Presence of God – that was said to dwell in the Temple in Jerusalem, indeed in the Holy of Holies, but went into exile with Israel and would return to dwell in the Temple when the exile would come to an end. This belief is found not only in many midrashim but is also incorporated into each Amida prayer when we say, "He causes His Shechina to return to Zion."
But the Shechina is not God entire, only a manifestation of God. Therefore we must be careful not to be too literal. Solomon, in his prayer dedicating the first Temple, was careful to say, "But will God really dwell on earth? Even the heavens to their uttermost reaches cannot contain You, how much less this House that I have built!" (1 Kings 8:27).
This week's portion, in which the Israelites are commanded to build a dwelling for God, may be hinting at the complexity of this matter when it carefully says, "And let them make Me a sanctuary that I may dwell in their midst" (Exodus 25:8). It does not say "in it" but "in their midst" – among them or even within them. Nahum Sarna further points out that the word v'shachanti, translated as "dwell," more properly means "rest." This is the same root as in the word Shechina. Thus, the entire concept under discussion has its origins in this one verse. There are times and places where the presence of God can be experienced, but there is no "dwelling place" of God.
Nevertheless, great care is taken in our portion to tell the Israelites exactly how they are to build this mishkan – the sanctuary – that will accompany them throughout their journey in the wilderness and then into the land of Canaan. "Exactly as I show you – the pattern of the Tabernacle and the pattern of all its furnishings – so shall you make it" (Exodus 25:9). Why was it so important? Israel was still at Sinai, the mountain where they had an overwhelming experience of God's presence. The mountain itself was also known as "The mountain of God" (Exodus 3:1), perhaps an echo of an ancient belief that this was indeed a place where the presence of God was manifest, if not the actual dwelling of the God they worshipped. Jacob, you will recall, had a similar experience and dubbed that place Beit El – The House of God (Genesis 28:16-19).
The Israelites could not stay at Sinai. They had to move on, but did that mean that they were also leaving God's presence behind at the mountain? The sanctuary came to supply the need for them to take Sinai with them, as it were. Thus they created for themselves a mountain of God, a sanctuary – not where God dwelt, but where they could experience God's presence.
The danger in creating such a place is that people may come to regard it as pagans regarded their temples, as God's actual dwelling, a place so imbued with God's presence that it could never be defiled, that it somehow had the potency to protect the people regardless of their conduct.
That was exactly the belief that Jeremiah railed against centuries later. He saw a generation that had abandoned God's commands, that had violated the restrictions against theft, oppression of the poor and the shedding of blood. At a time of danger they came to the Temple in Jerusalem, proclaiming "The Temple of the Lord, the Temple of the Lord are these!" (Jeremiah 7:4). Jeremiah told them that the building meant nothing, that such trust was an illusion. They had turned the Temple into a den of thieves and it would not protect them. The Lord has no need of a house when the people who worship there do not heed His word. Therefore, said Jeremiah, unless they changed their ways, that building would be destroyed.
There is always the danger that structure will become more important than substance. When anything, be it buildings or rituals, becomes more important than obedience to God's ethical commands, we are in trouble.
God is not to be found in externals but in the inner workings of our hearts and our consciences. There are times when you cannot find God in structures that have been dedicated to Him, but will find Him in the day-to-day deeds of good people.
"Where shall I find You and where shall I not find You?" asked the poet Yehudah Halevi. And Levi Yitzhak of Berditchev echoed that line in his famous "Dudele," "A Song of You." "In heaven, You. On earth, You. Above, You. Below, You. Where I turn, where I stir, You! You! You!"
It is recorded that the Kotzker Rebbe once asked the question, "Where is the dwelling of God?" and answered it by saying, "God dwells wherever you let Him in." It is our task to let God in and to make Him manifest in our lives and in our deeds.
Taken from the Jerusalem Post