Making space. With this week's double parasha, the long account of the construction of the sanctuary,

one of the longest narratives in the Torah, taking no less than 13 chapters,

that long account comes to a magnificent climax. Then the cloud covered the tent of meeting and the glory of the Lord filled the sanctuary.

Moses could not enter the tent of meeting

because the cloud had settled on it and the glory of the Lord filled the sanctuary. That is what

the building of the sanctuary was about. How to bring God as it were from heaven to earth,

or at least from the top of the mountain to down in the valley, from the remote God

of awe-inspiring power to the Shchina, the in-dwelling presence. God as Shahane, a neighbor,

intimate, close, within the camp, in the midst of the people. Yet for all this, we wonder why the Torah has to go on

at such length, in its details of the Mishkan, taking up the whole of Truma to Tzaveh, half of Kittisa, and

then again Vayaakil and Pekude. After all, the Mishkan was at best a temporary dwelling for the Shchina, suited to the years

of wandering and wilderness. But in Israel, it was superseded by the temple. For 2,000 years in the

absence of a temple, its place was taken by the Bait Knesset, by the synagogue. So why if the terror is timeless,

does it devote such space to what is essentially a time-bound structure? The answer is deep and life-transforming,

but to reach it we have to note some salient facts. First, the language the

Torah uses in Pekude is highly reminiscent of the language used in the narrative of the

creation of the universe. So, for instance, we read Moses, saw all the skilled work, and behold, they has done it,

as God had commanded it, they had done it, whereas in creation it says God saw all that he had made,

and behold, it was very good.

We read all the work of the tabernacle of the tent of meeting was completed.

And we read on creation via Chulu

Hashamai and the heavens and the earth and all their array were completed. It says,

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