The Israel Koschitzky Virtual Beit Midrash

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Yeshivat Har Etzion

PARASHAT TERUMA

By Rav David Silverberg

            Amidst its discussion of the wooden kerashim (planks) used in the construction of the Mishkan, the Midrash (Shemot Rabba 33) comments, "The world was not worthy of using cedar trees, and they were created only for the Mishkan and the Beit Ha-mikdash."

            One question that immediately arises upon reading this comment is whether cedar wood was indeed used at all in the construction of the Mishkan.  A survey of the Torah's discussion of the Mishkan's construction reveals that the only kind of wood mentioned is shitim, which is commonly interpreted to mean acacia wood.  The answer, it would seem, is that the Midrash here subscribes to the view presented in the Midrash Tanchuma (Parashat Teruma, 9), which identifies the shitim tree as one of twenty-four species of cedar.  According to this view, the Midrash is certainly correct in asserting that cedar wood was used in the construction of the Mishkan.

            More fundamentally, perhaps, one might ask what message this Midrashic passage seeks to convey.  Why is the world unworthy of the cedar, and why did God make an exception for the building of the Mishkan and the Beit Ha-mikdash?

            Rav Menachem Benzion Zaks, in his work Menachem Tziyon, suggested an allegorical reading of this passage.  The Gemara comments in Masekhet Ta'anit (20a), "A person should always be soft as a reed, and not rigid as a cedar."  The cedar tree is employed here as the symbol of inflexibility, rigidity and obstinacy.  A person who is consistently unyielding, and stubbornly insists on following his own ideas and his own wishes, is likened to a sturdy cedar tree that remains upright and does not bend, even when subjected to tempestuous winds.  The Midrash here teaches that "the world was not worthy of using cedar trees," meaning, this quality of unyielding stubbornness should, in theory, never have been brought into the world.  In order for mankind to work together peacefully, people must be prepared to bend, to yield to the wishes, interests, preferences and ideas of others.  If each person consistently insists on achieving only his personal goals and conducting his affairs solely as he sees fit, without giving consideration to others, friction and discord will prevail and people will never be able to cooperate and work together in moving the world forward.

            However, cedar wood was nevertheless created, for the purpose of the Mishkan and the Beit Ha-mikdash.  When it comes to the area of religious principles, unyielding obstinacy is indeed a virtue.  A person must certainly be prepared to yield to the wishes of other people, but not when this entails compromising his loyalty to the Torah.  If people apply pressure on an individual to have him neglect Torah observance, he must, indeed, be "rigid as a cedar" and refuse to bend.  In this regard, there is no room for flexibility.  Thus, the cedar – stubbornness and inflexibility – was brought into the world specifically to be used in the "Mishkan" and "Bet Ha-mikdash" – in the context of one's religious devotion.

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            The final verse of Parashat Teruma makes mention of the copper yeteidot, or pegs, that were used during the construction of the Mishkan.  As Rashi explains, the pegs served to fasten the bottom of the cloths that were draped over the Mishkan, as well as the hangings in the surrounding courtyard, to the ground.  In order to ensure that the bottoms of the cloths and hangings would not sway to and fro in the wind, they were held down to the ground with pegs.

            Rashi then raises the question as to how exactly the yeteidot achieved this goal, whether they were tightly thrust into the ground, or whether they were weighty objects that sat on top of the ground and held the cloths down with their weight.  After posing the question Rashi expresses his preference for the first possibility, that the yeteidot were thrust into the ground.  Interestingly enough, however, Rav Chayim Dov Chavel, in his annotation to Rashi's commentary, cites some manuscripts in which this final comment appears as an insert by Rabbi Yosef Kara, a student of Rashi, and was not written by Rashi himself.

            In any event, Rav Moshe Feinstein (in Derash Moshe) insightfully remarked that these two models of "pegs" described by Rashi may perhaps be applied to each individual's personal struggle for success in avodat Hashem.  The question posed by Rashi is essentially a question that could be asked about each and every person: what keeps a person "grounded" and impervious to the many spiritually hostile pressures that we all confront each day?  How can one best ensure that he is not "swayed" by the harmful "winds" that threaten to discourage steadfast obedience to Torah?

            The answer is that one should follow both models of yeteidot that Rashi describes here in his Torah commentary.  Firstly, he should be "thrust" into the "ground," into a supportive communal structure.  If a person is firmly rooted in a religious community whose members share a general commitment to Torah practice and belief, he is not likely to be "swayed" by the cultural forces that conflict with the Torah way of life.  But, in addition, a person must be "weighty," he must engender within himself the internal strength, resolve and determination to withstand negative influences independently.  One cannot rely on his communal religious structure and identity for the support and grounding he needs to grow spiritually; he must develop his own resources of confidence and fortitude so that he could flourish even outside the supportive framework of his community.

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            Rashi, in his commentary to Parashat Teruma (25:21), notes God's seemingly superfluous repetition of the command to Moshe to place the luchot (tablets) inside the ark: "And you shall place in the ark the Testimony that I will give you" (25:16); "You shall place the kaporet [covering] over the ark, on top, and in the ark you shall place the Testimony that I will give you" (25:21).  To explain this redundancy, Rashi suggests that the second command clarified that the luchot must be placed inside the aron before it is covered with the kaporet covering.  Meaning, Moshe was to first place the tablets inside the ark before covering it, rather than first covering it and then removing the kaporet at some later point to place the tablets inside.

            The Rashash, in his notes to Masekhet Yoma (53b), as well as the Meshekh Chokhma (commenting on 25:21), suggested a different explanation based on the halakhic principle of shina alav ha-Katuv le-akeiv.  As the Gemara establishes in Masekhet Menachot (19b), the Torah's repetition of a command in the area of kodashim (the Temple and its rituals) indicates that this command is le-ikuva, meaning, indispensable for the validity of the ritual under discussion.  In the offering of a sacrifice, for example, when the Torah repeats a certain detail relevant to that offering, failure to observe that detail results in the disqualification of the sacrifice.  Thus, these Acharonim suggest, the repetition of the command to place the tablets inside the ark imposes a condition on the fulfillment of the mitzva to construct an ark.  Namely, if the tablets are not placed inside the ark, this mitzva goes unfulfilled.  Since the essential function of the aron is to contain the luchot, the absence of the luchot disqualifies the aron.  The Torah introduced this provision by repeating the command to place the tablets inside the ark, in accordance with the principle of shina alav ha-katuv le-akeiv.  (See also Minchat Chinukh, 95.)

            The Rashash and Meshekh Chokhma enlist this theory to explain why the Jews did not construct a new aron during the period of the Second Temple, as the Gemara relates in Masekhet Yoma (52b).  The Jews at this time did not have access to the original ark, which was either buried beneath the Temple Mount or taken to Babylonia (different traditions exist in this regard), so they should seemingly have been required to construct a new aron, in fulfillment of the Torah's command.  Indeed, the Ramban, in his critique of the Rambam's Sefer Ha-mitzvot (asei 33), writes explicitly that if the aron is broken or otherwise rendered unusable, the Torah requires constructing a new one.  Why, then, did the Jew of the Second Temple period not build a second aron?  The answer clearly emerges from the aforementioned theory.  Since the luchot were hidden or captured together with the original aron, a new aron would not have served any purpose, as the mitzva to build an ark could not have been fulfilled under the circumstances.  The Torah repeated the command to place the tablets inside the ark to establish that the ark loses its halakhic significance if it does not contain the tablets, and therefore no purpose would have been served by fashioning a new aron in the Second Temple.

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            Rashi, towards the beginning of his commentary to Parashat Teruma (25:5), raises the factual question of where Benei Yisrael found wood for the construction of the Mishkan.  After all, they built the Mishkan as they encamped in the desolate wilderness of Sinai, far from any population centers and forested regions.  Rashi explains that Yaakov had planted cedar trees in Egypt before his death, and instructed his children to take this lumber with them when they depart Egypt.  He prophetically foresaw God's future command to his descendants concerning the Mishkan, and he therefore prepared in advance by planting cedars and advising his offspring to bring the trees with them.

            The Midrash Bereishit Rabba (94) comments that the wood used for the Mishkan has an even more ancient history, dating back to the time of Avraham.  According to the Midrash, when the Torah tells of Avraham planting an "eishel" in the city of Be'er Sheva (Bereishit 21:33), it means that Avraham planted cedar trees, which Yaakov cut down and took with him on his way to Egypt.  Presumably, these were the cedars that Yaakov planted in Egypt and ordered his children to bring with them for the purpose of building the Mishkan.

            What might these cedar trees represent?  Of what significance is it that Yaakov took the trees planted by Avraham, and then instructed his descendants to use these trees for the construction of the Mishkan?

            Some writers have explained that the Midrash refers here to the symbolic meaning of the cedar tree that we discussed earlier this week.  As we saw, the Sages often make reference to the cedar – a tall, sturdy tree – as the allegorical embodiment of pride and arrogance.  Thus, for example, the Gemara instructs in Masekhet Ta'anit (20a), "A person should always be soft as a reed, and not rigid as a cedar."  Its use with the Miskhan is intended to reflect the importance of stubborn, unyielding persistence in the area of avodat Hashem, one's religious obligations.  While the Torah generally denounces arrogance and obstinacy, with regard to one's commitment to mitzvot he must proceed with confidence and pride, and not yield to pressures of any kind.

Avraham's planting of a cedar tree represents his bequeathing to his children this quality of stubborn, unwavering religious commitment.  Avraham opposed the entire pagan world and championed the cause of monotheism with uncompromising tenacity and persistence.  As Yaakov made his way to Egypt for what he realized would be a prolonged stay in a spiritually foreign and hostile environment, he took these "cedars" of Avraham with him.  He instructed his family to remain "rigid as a cedar" in their efforts to resist the foreign influences of Egyptian society, to assertively retain their loyalty to the teachings of Avraham with pride and confidence.  Rather than question their traditions and consider the superiority of the culture of their host nation, they were to firmly and resolutely adhere to the values of their forefathers.  And it was this "cedar" quality that was to accompany them into the wilderness and with which they were to bring the Shekhina into their midst through the construction of the Mishkan.

It is perhaps noteworthy that the Sages emphasize the importance of this quality of "rigidity" both during Benei Yisrael's stay in Egypt, as well as in the context of the Mishkan's construction at Mount Sinai.  These two contexts represent two vastly different realities.  In Egypt, as mentioned, Benei Yisrael lived with the constant exposure to a foreign culture and set of religious beliefs and practices.  In the wilderness, by contrast, they lived alone, distant and apart from foreign nations and cultures.  (See Netziv's Ha'amek Davar, beginning of Parashat Beshalach.)  Interestingly enough, the message of the "cedar" had to accompany them even into the wilderness, when they would live without exposure to competing beliefs and values.  Tenacity and personal strength is necessary not only to resist external pressures and influences, but also to overcome one's own internal tendencies and drives.  The role of the "cedar" was no less important in the wilderness of Sinai – when Benei Yisrael lived without external influences – than it was during the Egyptian exile.  Under all circumstances, a person must gird himself with strength, confidence and resolve in his determined pursuit of spiritual excellence.

A famous Talmudic passage (Kiddushin 30b) states, "If this despicable being [the evil inclination] confronts you, drag him to the study hall; even if he is stone, he will dissolve."  The Gemara here teaches that intensive Torah study can serve as an antidote, of sorts, to the yetzer ha-ra, to sinful tendencies.  The Rebbe of Kotzk (as cited by the Rosh Yeshiva, Rav Yehuda Amital shlit"a) noted the unusual expression menuval zeh – "this despicable being" – that the Gemara employs in reference to the evil inclination in this passage.  Why, the Rebbe asked, does the Gemara speak of "this" yetzer ha-ra, as though there is another?  He thus explained this passage to mean that one should drag "this" yetzer ha-ra to the study hall, but once he arrives there he will invariably confront another yetzer ha-ra.  The "evil inclination" of foreign influences can often be overcome by retreating into the protective environment of Torah study and the supportive framework of fellow devoted Jews, but other, equally formidable spiritual challenges arise in those settings.  Freedom from the external yetzer ha-ra does not guarantee protection from the internal yetzer ha-ra, from the negative tendencies that affect, or threaten to affect, each and every one of us.  Even if one manages to escape the former, he must still continue to struggle against the latter.

Hence, the "cedars" of Avraham must accompany a person wherever he goes, whether he finds himself in Egypt or at Mount Sinai, whether he is exposed to a competing culture or lives under the protection of a supportive social framework.

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            The Mishkan, as the Torah describes in Parashat Teruma, was constructed with wooden planks that stood vertically and were held in the ground by adanim, sockets embedded in the ground.  Twenty planks stood along the northern side of the Mishkan, another twenty along the southern side, and six to the west.  No planks were placed on the eastern side, where the entrance to the Mishkan was situated.

            The Meshekh Chokhma notes a subtle distinction between the Torah's formulation in reference to the sockets on the northern and southern sides of the Mishkan.  With regard to the planks running along the southern wall, the Torah speaks plainly of adnei kesef – "silver sockets."  In reference to the sockets implanted along the north, by contrast, the Torah employs the term adneihem – "their [the planks'] sockets" – seemingly suggesting some kind of intrinsic association between the planks and the sockets.  How might we explain this association, and why does it obtain only with regard to the sockets underneath the northern planks?

            The Meshekh Chokhma explains this discrepancy based on a comment in the Talmud Yerushalmi (Shabbat 12:3) establishing that a plank situated along the northern side of the Mishkan was never allowed to be transferred to the southern end.  The Mishkan was dismantled and reassembled numerous times, and the Yerushalmi instructs that once a plank was used for the north side of the Mishkan, it must continue to serve in that specific capacity on all subsequent occasions when the Mishkan is reassembled.  The Meshekh Chokhma explains this policy on the basis of the famous principle of ma'alin ba-kodesh ve-ein moridin (Menachot 99), which forbids lowering an object's status of halakhic kedusha.  The north side in the Mishkan (and Beit Ha-mikdash) was generally deemed the "holier" region, as manifest in the requirement that kodashei kodashim – the highest order of sacrifices – be slaughtered specifically on the northern side of the courtyard.  For this reason, the Meshekh Chokhma claims, Benei Yisrael were not permitted to transfer a plank used on the northern side of the Mishkan to the southern end, as this would entail diminishing its kedusha status.

            This special rule that applied to the northern planks easily explains the different terminologies employed by the Torah in reference to the northern and southern sockets.  The Torah speaks of the sockets on the north as adneihem – "their sockets" – because the planks and sockets along the north side had to remain on that side in all subsequent reassemblies of the Mishkan.  Hence, the initial sockets were, in a very real sense, "their sockets," as they were to be used permanently with those planks.  Along the south, however, the planks and sockets could, conceivably, be transferred at some point to the north (such as if one of the northern planks or sockets was lost or damaged).  Therefore, there was no integral connection between the planks and sockets on the southern side, and the Torah thus speaks of them simply as "sockets," rather than "their sockets."

            A number of later writers noted a glaring difficulty with these comments of the Meshekh Chokhma, namely, that the passage in the Talmud Yerushalmi to which he refers states explicitly that the northern and southern planks were equivalent in this regard.  Meaning, just as the northern planks could not be transferred to the southern side, so were the southern planks required to remain on that end and not be transferred to the north.  Undoubtedly, then, this halakha has nothing at all to do with the issue of ma'alin ba-kodesh, of using a hallowed item for a purpose entailing a lower level of sanctity.  Rather, the Yerushalmi establishes that all planks in the Mishkan should be positioned along the same side each time the Mishkan is reconstructed, for the sake of consistency.  In fact, the Netziv, in his Ha'amek Davar (26:24, and Bamidbar 4:32), writes that the planks were labeled numerically such that each could be positioned at the precise same location each and every time the Mishkan is reassembled.  In any event, there is clearly no distinction drawn in this regard between the planks on the northern and southern sides, and the Meshekh Chokhma's reading of the Yerushalmi thus seems very difficult to understand.

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            One of the laws presented in Parashat Teruma concerning the Mishkan relates to the badei ha-aron, the transport poles that were inserted horizontally along the two sides of the aron.  The Torah (25:15) requires that the poles be affixed permanently to the sides of the ark, and the Gemara (Yoma 72a) explains this verse as introducing a Torah prohibition.  Hence, the Gemara comments, one who removes the poles from their place alongside the ark is liable to malkot (lashes).

            A number of different approaches have been taken throughout the ages to explain the reason for this prohibition.  Rav Yehuda Leib Ginsburg, in his Yalkut Yehuda (Denver, 1933), suggests that the presence of the transport poles alongside the ark ensured its quick retrieval during emergencies.  Should a fire erupt in the Mishkan, for example, or if marauders plundered the sacred site, the Levi'im, who were assigned the role of transporting the aron, would be able to lift the ark and move it to safer grounds immediately, without having to first affix the poles.  The Torah forbade removing the poles in order to ensure that at all times the ark would be prepared for immediate relocation.

            Interestingly, as Rav Ginsburg noted, no such requirement applied to the other sacred articles of the Mishkan, such as the altars or the shulchan (table).  Only regarding the ark did the Torah specifically require the permanent attachment of the transport poles.  Rva Ginsburg explained that the Torah thereby conveys the message that the Torah, represented by the aron, must be our nation's primary concern during times of danger.  Rescuing the Torah takes precedence over that of other important values, such as Jewish kingship (represented by the shulchan) and the ritual service in the Temple (as represented by the altars).

            Accordingly, Rav Ginsburg suggested that this halakha forms the basis of Rabban Yochanan Ben Zakai's famous request to the Roman general Vespasian shortly before the destruction of the Second Temple.  As the Gemara tells in Masekhet Gittin (56), Rabban Yochanan earned the respect and admiration of the general (who became emperor during his meeting with Rabban Yochanan), but nevertheless suspected that he would be granted no more than a single, modest request.  Rabban Yochanan chose to ask that the general spare the city of Yavneh, the center of Torah learning at that time.  Following the example of the badei ha-aron, Rabban Yochanan realized that Torah scholarship must take precedence over the city of Jerusalem and even over the Beit Ha-mikdash.  He therefore chose to beg specifically on behalf of the academies of Torah learning, with the understanding that rescuing the aron had to be his primary concern.

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            As mentioned yesterday, the Torah in Parashat Teruma introduces the prohibition of masir badei ha-aron – removing the transport poles from alongside the ark.  Even though the function of these poles related solely to the ark's transportation, they were nevertheless to remain permanently attached to the sides of the aron and held by the rings affixed to the four corners of the ark.

            The Rambam, in codifying this halakha (Hilkhot Kelei Ha-mikdash 2:13), writes, "One who removes one of the ark's poles is liable to malkot [lashes]."  As many later writers noted, the Rambam deems one in violation of this law even if he removes one of the two transport poles.  At first glance, however, the Torah's formulation of this halakha indicates otherwise: "The poles shall be in the rings of the ark – they shall not be removed from it" (25:15).  The Torah formulates this prohibition in plural form – "they shall not be removed from it" – seemingly suggesting that the prohibition is defined as the removal of both poles from alongside the ark.  On what basis, then, did the Rambam conclude that one violates this law once he removes a single pole?

            Some Acharonim suggested that the Rambam's ruling is a function of the essential definition of this halakha.  Namely, the Torah here forbids dismantling the poles in a fashion that does not allow the ark to be transported; the prohibition thus relates to ensuring the ark's state of readiness for immediate transport.  Once a person dislodges even one of the poles, the ark cannot be transported in its current state, and the individual has thus violated this prohibition.

One interesting ramification of this approach pertains to the status of a person who then proceeds to dislodge the second pole.  If, indeed, the definition of this issur (prohibition) is interfering with the ark's immediate transportability, it applies only when the ark is already transportable.  Once a person has already removed one pole, no prohibition is involved when he, or somebody else, dislodges the second pole.

            The To'afot Re'eim (commentary to the Sefer Yerei'im, 316) suggests a much different approach to explain the Rambam's position.  In some manuscripts of the Sefer Yerei'im, this prohibition is formulated as follows: "The verse admonishes against removing the ark's rings from the poles."  The Sefer Yerei'im interpreted the verse as forbidding removing the rings from the poles, rather than removing the poles from their position in the rings.  Though practically speaking these two definitions are functionally equivalent, they result in different readings of the verse: "The poles shall be in the rings of the ark – they shall not be removed from it."  According to the conventional reading, "they shall not be removed from it" means that the poles shall not be removed from the sides of the ark.  According to the Yerei'im's reading, by contrast, the pronoun "they" modifies the ark's rings, and this clause should be read as, "the rings shall not be removed from it" – meaning, from the pole.  The final word in this verse – "mimenu" ("from it") is written in the singular form, thus suggesting that even dislodging one of the two poles violates this prohibition.  Conceivably, then, the Rambam followed this reading of the verse and on the basis of this reading arrived at this otherwise startling position.