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A story is told of a sculptor in Ancient Greece who was hard at work on his latest masterpiece.  Day after day people would walk by and marvel at his creation.  As the sculptor neared the end, one passerby remarked that there was something he could not understand.  “Sir, if you’ll permit me,” he said, “your sculpture is magnificent, but why do you work so hard on the back of it?  Won’t it be placed against the wall?  No one is going to see it.”

The sculptor paused to review his work for a moment, and then smiled at the questioner.  “Ah,” he replied, “but the gods see everything.”

What does this story have to do with Terumah, our weekly Torah portion?  This is the first portion of several that follow in the next few weeks which detail the building of the Mishkan, or tabernacle that would be the Israelites’ desert sanctuary—their sacred house of meeting and spiritual home… moving as they moved.  And there is one small part of the Mishkan’s construction that provides the link to the story we just heard.  Early in Terumah, Moses is commanded to build the Ark, which will be placed inside the Mishkan.  “Overlay it with pure gold, inside and out,” God commands Moses.  The commandment that the outside of the Ark be overlaid with gold is easy enough to understand.  That’s the part everyone who draws close to the Mishkan would see.  But why would God also mandate that the inside of the Ark be lined with gold?  That’s the part far fewer people see; not unlike the back of the sculptor’s masterpiece, pushed up against the wall.

One rabbinic explanation is that this teaches us the importance of authenticity – that a person, like the Ark, should be the same on the inside as on the outside.  If we work to present a shiny golden surface to the world that never penetrates who we are inside – if our thoughts and intentions remain selfish and cynical – or if our greatest vulnerabilities remain hidden from those who care about us, then we are only scratching the surface.

And that just happens to be a central teaching to remember as we make our way through Terumah, which reads almost like an architectural blueprint in places.  Layers upon layers of details as to the dimensions of the Mishkan, the colors and materials and measurements. 

It’s all too easy not only to get lost in these details, but also to become lulled into believing that they are the end rather than the means.  All of this ornamentation, chapter after chapter, really comes down to a single line, stated early in the portion.  God speaks to Moses and tells him to have the Israelites “build Me a sanctuary, that I may dwell among them.”  The Mishkan is to be a thing of beauty not for its own sake, but for God’s.  And when the people come inside, bringing with them their gratitude, their longing, their capacity to be there for and with each other, it is then that the Mishkan becomes a place that is beautiful outside and in.  A place where God’s presence truly abides.

There’s something else about that Ark whose inside was to be overlaid with pure gold.  It reminds us that there is honor in working diligently on something that may never be apparent to the masses.  In the words of Rabbi Jack Riemer, that is the test and the measure of sacred work.  If you work just as hard, if you invest just as much of yourself, if you devote as much of your talent and your skill and your materials to the inside of the Ark as to the outside, then your work becomes holy.  And then you are imitating God… the One whose work is also done discreetly, without boasting and bragging, invisibly and with no interest in reward. 

If we can learn to do our work this way, then our efforts will be holy, and our work will be blessed.

Shabbat Shalom,

Rabbi Gutterman