We have come to the end of the book of Exodus. The tabernacle (that big, moveable tent where God will live in the desert) is finished and all the instruments and special robes and curtains embroidered with pomegranates and bells are complete. The divine presence has settled into and over the tabernacle as a cloud and during the night, fire appears in the cloud so the people can see it. When the cloud lifts and starts to move the Israelites know it’s time to pack up and follow their sacred GPS.
Earlier in this parasha, we are reminded that the artisans, craftsmen, and builders of the tabernacle and all of the ritual items are named Bezalel and Oholiab. But it is Bezalel’s name that fascinates me. It means, “in the shadow (or protection) of God.” Now, our tradition teaches that Bezalel is not the only one who built and crafted all that God told Moses to tell the people to do (yeah, big game of telephone, no wonder God is so specific). But it is clear he is some sort of lead builder. Or at least, the representative of all who created the tabernacle.
Bezalel is himself in the shadows. He is named nine times in the entire Hebrew bible (Oholian, only five times), which isn’t nothing but isn’t that many times either. And yet, he is credited with actually doing the darn thing – with erecting God’s personal tent. That’s a pretty big deal.
And yet, isn’t it the people who actually do the darn thing who are in the shadows? That is to say, not in the limelight or announcing their every move. The people who make things and fix things, like electricians or carpenters. Childcare workers. Teachers. Nurses. Medical assistants.
I’m thinking specifically about the person (I think they worked for the Red Cross) who actually gave me the first dose of the Pfizer vaccine. We talk so abstractly about “getting the vaccine” but what about the actual health care worker who gave it to you? Do you know their name? I don’t remember her name but am specifically grateful to her. Yes, if she wasn’t there that day, someone else would have given me the shot. But she was there. She touched my arm.
Or what about the teachers that taught you to read? What about the teachers that taught you to question? These are monumental figures. And yet, we assume it just happens. It does not just happen. It is like building the tabernacle, piece by piece.
I’m reminded of a story. I recently had the honor to learn from Vicky Kelman, a leader in Jewish family education and a mentor to my mentors! In her teaching, she shared a version of this famous parable.
The Three Bricklayers.
One day a man was walking down the street and saw a new building being constructed. He observed three bricklayers on a scaffold, working very hard and fast. To the first bricklayer, he asked the question, “What are you doing?” to which the bricklayer replied, “I’m laying bricks.”He asked the second bricklayer, “What are you doing?” The second bricklayer responded, “I’m building a wall.” And finally, the man asked the third bricklayer, “What are you doing?” With a gleam in his eye, the third bricklayer responded “I’m creating a cathedral for the entire community that will last for generations.”
Teachers build cathedrals. Do you see that?
In this parasha, Bezalel is named (as is Oholiab, of course). As we know, a name is more than some sounds you call someone. When you name someone, you make them real – you affirm their life – it’s a verbal embrace.
People like Bezalel – the people who do the darn thing – are in the shadows of every part of our lives. The people who pick up our trash, recycling and compost. Our mail carrier. The person who built the table at which my wife and I eat every night. The person who built this house or reset the glass in our back window when I broke it.
It occurs to me most of what we do is in the shadows. Most of the daily tasks. Parents going grocery shopping or caregivers, cleaning the bathroom floor one more time. But these are the things that create the society we live in. And they matters deeply. There is only one Moses (who is mentioned 766 times, by the way). But through Bezalel, the work we do in the shadows, when we think no one is watching, is named. And when we name, we honor.
חֲזַק חֲזַק וְנִתְּחַזֵּק
Chazak Chazak V’nitzchazek
Be Strong, Be Strong, Let Us Be Strengthened