Sacred Spaces, Sacred Lives
Rabbi Amy R. Perlin, D.D. 5/24/13
Shabbat Beha’alot’cha
Our portion this week describes the Tent of Meeting – Ohel Mo’ed, our Tabernacle, the place in the wilderness where we found God and holiness. It was a sacred Jewish space where people gathered together to lead sacred lives.
I attended a meeting of the PJ Library Program for our Virginia community at JCC this week. You will hear more about the PJ library. It is a fabulous program to engage young families Jewishly, in their homes with their children. But, we were told that many of the people, who are now resurfacing on the Jewish radar through the PJ program, aren’t always comfortable coming into synagogues and Jewish space. We see in this new Jewish initiative, and some others today, a need to engage Jews on “neutral space.”
Our Torah portion is clear — the Tabernacle was the place where people were to gather. Levites and Aaron would serve the sanctuary, but the tent was open to all who wanted to enter – men, women and children, even the stranger who lived among us.
That is perhaps why I have been so upset every time I visit the Wall in Jerusalem. This open tent idea from our portion has been forgotten. The Sharansky plan for the Western Wall will now give us, as pluralistic Jews a place to pray together at this sacred site.
Our portion continues to teach us in Numbers 9 that God dwelled with our people embracing the Tabernacle as a cloud by day and God appeared as fire by night. When the cloud lifted, it was time to move camp and move the Tabernacle. God helped to make the Tabernacle more than just a tent of meeting, the ever-present God made the Tabernacle a holy place.
I find it so interesting that one of the names for God is HaMakom, the Place. We don’t only come to a place to commune with God. God is THE PLACE wherever we make space for God.
We live in a hectic world, rushing through traffic and activities on our calendars, connected by technology and social media, and one wonders:
Where are our sacred places to meet?
Where does God dwell in our lives?
What makes our lives sacred?
Some people are searching to make Starbucks and other public spaces places of meeting for Jews. But, we are synagogue Jews, and we know in our hearts that this is the place that is sacred for us.
I told my Bar and Bat Mitzvah Class of 2014 and their parents, on Tuesday night, that we made a decision not to use this sanctuary space for other purposes when we moved into our temple building. We wanted this as sacred space, not smelling from Spartans’ wonderful Shabbat dinner, or used for a Purim Carnival. That is a huge statement on the part of our leadership about how we view holiness and about what kind of community we aspire to be. Setting aside sacred space, physically, also helps us set aside sacred space and time, spiritually.
Tomorrow morning, Minna talks in her prayer to Daniel about how Friday night became their special time — temple time, Shabbat time. I treasure Minna’s appreciation for the importance of belonging, coming, appreciating, and celebrating in this sacred space, as the way to teach her children to lead sacred, Jewish lives.
Many of you know exactly what I mean. There are so many activities competing for our time. Yet, you stop your lives, drive (some of you for many miles), to enter this holy place for prayer and belonging, caring, comfort, and community.
Like the Tabernacle of the wilderness, our sanctuary doesn’t have four permanent walls, we have three out of four (just like the sukkat shalom we prayed for earlier tonight).
Like the Tabernacle of the wilderness, we reside in the wilderness, in the quiet, hidden woods of Fairfax Station.
And like the Tabernacle in the wilderness, we have Levites, who take responsibility for the workings of this sacred space, for all of us. And like the Levites of old, we open this honor to anyone whose heart is moved to serve, Jews and non-Jews, members all, for even in our portion, in verse 14 of Numbers 9, the stranger who resides with us can offer a Passover sacrifice to the Lord .
According to our Torah portion, the Tabernacle was also called the Tent of the Pact, because the tablets from God, The Pact, resided within. We, too, house our Torahs here. We do even more. We are guided by the Torah’s values in every action and every decision as a congregation. And even when we fall short, we find ways to remedy the situation guided by the Torah’s values and teachings. We aspire to lead Torah-centered lives not just when we are under this roof, but everywhere we wander. Like the Tabernacle of the wilderness, we carry the Tabernacle and Torah with us wherever we go.
Before we built the temple, this was a literal truth. I used to put the Torah in a golf bag, in my trunk, and carry the Torah with me. Today, we metaphorically take the Torah with us wherever we go.
And like the Tabernacle, we take a census, counting those who support our sacred place as those who dwell among us.
So, how can we share our sacred space and sacred lives with others so that today’s Jews, interfaith families, seekers are not fearful of entering Jewish space? We can bring friends, family, and neighbors to feel the magic of this sacred place and the comfort of leading a sacred life.
I pray for a time when community organizers don’t have to worry about creating Jewish events in neutral space. I pray for a time when every Jew recognizes that we are each as responsible as our ancestors of the Torah to not only connect with our people and our God, but to support and sustain the temple as our own.
Sit for a moment. Let go of the stresses and strains of your week. We are glad that you bring your heartaches and your tears here, to our sacred space. We want you to come here to celebrate your joys and to find comfort for your sorrows. This is the holy place to speak of your yearnings to find meaning in a world often devoid of purpose and possibility.
Our portion ends with the words:
“This shall be an institution for you for all time throughout the ages.” Our portion from Numbers this week teaches that —
In war, we are taught to seek God’s counsel.
In joyous times and festivals, we are encouraged to gather and be grateful as a community.
In sickness and in health, in life and in death, the Tent of Meeting is the haven where you can find support and the community to help you offer the support you have to give.
Thank you, God of the wilderness, for offering us a safe refuge from all of life’s troubles and storms, so that we can belong to something greater than ourselves, that will endure long after we are gone.
Shabbat Shalom