Imagining Ourselves

And he set up the enclosure around the Tabernacle and the altar, and put up the screen for the gate of the enclosure. When Moses had finished the work, the cloud covered the Tent of Meeting, and the Presence of the Lord filled the Tabernacle. Moses could not enter the Tent of Meeting, because the cloud had settled upon it and the Presence of the Lord filled the Tabernacle. When the cloud lifted from the Tabernacle, the Israelites would set out, on their various journeys; but if the cloud did not lift, they would not set out until such time as it did lift. For over the Tabernacle a cloud of the Lord rested by day, and fire would appear in it by night, in the view of all the house of Israel throughout their journeys. -Exodus 40:33-38

I've often tried to imagine what it must have been like to stand there with all those millions of people, surrounding the newly constructed Tabernacle. I imagine that the immense crowd is hushed with anticipation. Moses has just finished the last piece of construction, putting up the screen for the gate of the enclosure. Everything is set. We are waiting. And then it happens.

There's nothing in the text that suggests this, but I always picture this scene as happening at night. The "cloud" of fire is descending slowly, majestically, in awesome wonder as three million people collectively hold their breath. The cloud descends and enters the Tabernacle which, up to this moment, was completely dark.

Then suddenly, the structure explodes with light and the weight of His Presence causes the earth to tremble. Three million people gasp and then burst forth in cheers and songs of praise and worship. The Lord God Almighty finally lives among His people!

It would have been the thrill of a lifetime to just have witnessed those few moments when the Divine Presence rested upon the Tabernacle, even if, after it was over, I was asked to leave. After all, I'm not one of the Children of Israel.

It might surprise you to find out that I also imagine myself living in Jerusalem in the time of Yeshua. No, I'm not so bold as to even imagine a personal meeting with the Jewish Messiah. Encounters between Yeshua and non-Jews were rare and he had come for "the lost sheep of Israel".

But I see myself approaching the Temple. I'm only allowed as far as the court of the Gentiles, of course, and I pick out a place for myself at the back of the court, furthest away from where the Jews are able to enter to be closer to "the Presence". I try to stay to the shadows, being unworthy to even be this close. As a non-Jew, I wouldn't be wearing a tallit, but I hope for a hood or a shroud to cover myself in the wings of prayer and then to silently petition and praise the God of the Jews.

It would be an honor just to touch those stones and walk the ground on which the Temple was built, even for a few moments. I think I would wonder what it would be like to go in. What a moment it would be if someone like me could offer a sacrifice and have it be accepted...even just one time. But that wouldn't be possible and after my prayers, I would have to leave.

I sometimes imagine being in a small synagogue in the diaspora, worshiping in the back on Shabbat with other goyim God-fearers. I have trouble picturing this part, because as far as I understand it, people memorized the prayers in those days. Would I have learned Hebrew prayers from the Jewish worshipers to offer the King or would I only speak my thoughts and my heart in my native tongue? How I would tremble in wonder at the realization that we could pray to the One God, even though as a non-Jew, I'd be separated from the more formal worship that was occurring at the front of the synagogue.

While I could never approach it, let alone read from it, I imagine the removal of the Torah from the ark as the highlight of my Shabbat worship. In a way, its appearance in the congregation is an echo of the initial moment when the Divine Presence inhabited the Mishkan, those many centuries ago.

I wonder what it would all have been like?

I sometimes imagine myself being among the Gentiles accompanying Cornelius and his household and listening to the words of the Apostle Peter, a man who had walked with the Messiah himself, as this happened:

While Peter was still speaking these words, the Holy Spirit came on all who heard the message. The circumcised believers who had come with Peter were astonished that the gift of the Holy Spirit had been poured out even on Gentiles. For they heard them speaking in tongues and praising God. Then Peter said, “Surely no one can stand in the way of their being baptized with water. They have received the Holy Spirit just as we have.” So he ordered that they be baptized in the name of Jesus Christ. Then they asked Peter to stay with them for a few days. -Acts 10:44-48

We take so much for granted today. Who we are. What we believe. The condition of our faith. The nature of God. But we are all supposed to be connected to these people and these events and most of all, though the Messiah, we are supposed to be connected to God. I was thinking about this piece of dialog between Captain Picard (Patrick Stewart) and Wesley Crusher (Wil Wheaton) in the Star Trek, The Next Generation episode Samaritan Snare:

Captain Jean-Luc Picard: There's no greater challenge than the study of philosophy.
Wesley Crusher: But William James won't be on my Starfleet exams.
Captain Jean-Luc Picard: The important things never will be. Anyone can be trained in the mechanics of piloting a starship.
Wesley Crusher: And Starfleet Academy...
Captain Jean-Luc Picard: Takes more. Open your mind to the past - art, history, philosophy. And all this may mean something.

We blog about so many things but in the end, just as Picard says to Wesley, it takes more. While we obsess over our own versions of "Starfleet exams" and "Starfleet academy", the important things aren't going to be on those "exams" (or in many cases, in those blogs). It takes more.

In our case, we must open our minds (and our hearts) to God, His Word, the Messiah, His Glory, His Honor, and the unimaginable opportunity we have been offered just to be a small part of it all.

Blogging creates the illusion that we're very important people in the greater scheme of things. Yet anyone can create a blog in just a few minutes and start publishing his or her words and "wisdom" into the blogosphere for any one to read. But in all our blogging and posting (and I'm just as guilty of this as anyone...probably more), does it matter so much what our opinions are or the concepts we're trying to convey? Are we missing the point?

When Moses had finished the work, the cloud covered the Tent of Meeting, and the Presence of the Lord filled the Tabernacle. Moses could not enter the Tent of Meeting, because the cloud had settled upon it and the Presence of the Lord filled the Tabernacle.

Aren't moments like these the real point? Isn't quietly sitting in the back of the synagogue, or in a corner in the court of the Gentiles at the Temple (for me) contemplating God and His awesomeness really what's supposed to be happening?

I hope that, blogging and commenting on blogs for six days of the week, that on the Shabbat, we can find a small, quiet shadow to visit and, standing before His Presence, we humbly realize truly who we are, and who He is and ask ourselves why we treat people who are sacred to God as profane.

The road is long and often, we travel in the dark, ignoring the light of the world. Look for the lamp to light the path.

"A Jew never gives up. We're here to bring Mashiach, we will settle for nothing less." -Harav Yitzchak Ginsburgh