Build a Tabernacle in the Wilderness

March 9, 2024

Author(s): Rabbi Wes Gardenswartz,

Listen Watch


Parashat Vayakhel
Build a Tabernacle in the Wilderness
March 9, 2024 — 29 Adar I 5784
Temple Emanuel, Newton, MA

            The IDF has an intelligence unit whose name does not exactly roll off the tongue.  It is called Terrain Analysis, Accurate Mapping, Visual Collection and Interpretation Agency.  As Dan Senor and Saul Singer point out in their new book The Genius of Israel, which came out on November 7, 2023, the job of this intelligence unit is to analyze millions of details in millions of images gathered by Israeli satellites, airplanes and drones 

            For example, if the war in Lebanon happens, Israel would need to send paratroopers into enemy territory.  How do they get resupplied with food and other essentials?  Israeli technology has captured millions of images which have to be interpreted for the light it sheds on where food and drink might be found. While this unit uses computers and algorithms to help process all this big data, computers only get you so far.  Human beings need to read and analyze the data.

            The challenge is that this work is extremely tedious and painstaking. Another word might be boring.  It takes an unusual capacity for patience and attention to detail. It’s not a job for everyone.  But Israel has figured out a way to solve this problem. The title of the book is the genius of Israel, and Israel’s solution is genius.

             Israel has created a special unit filled by Israeli soldiers who are neurodiverse.  Pairing autistic soldiers with this elite intelligence unit is a win win.

            It is a win for the IDF because these neurodiverse soldiers have the smarts and patience to interpret millions of details in millions of images. 

            And it is a win for these soldiers and their families.  Serving in the IDF is a badge of honor. Not being able to serve is stigmatizing.  Pairing neurodiverse soldiers with a special unit that utilizes their distinctive intelligence gives these young soldiers a feeling of accomplishment, of being needed and valued.  And it also gives them analytical skills that they can use when their army service is over.  The authors observe:

“the IDF today employs, on an absolute basis, more people with autism than any other organization in the world…Parents write…that their child now has a future.

            I bring up this story not only because we are thinking about Israel after more than 150 days of war, but also because it tracks an important question both in our Torah portion and in our lived reality:  When we are in the wilderness, when we are in the middle of a really hard time—and we are in the middle of a really hard time—how do we build something beautiful and holy?

            The Israelites did not build the tabernacle when they were at Canyon Ranch.  They did not have a studio, an ample supply of green tea, and lean and healthy protein at the ready.  They had to build their tabernacle in the desert, when they were hot, hungry, thirsty, tired; when they were dealing with the trauma of having been slaves; when they did not yet know where they were going or how they were going to get there.  Facing all that adversity, the Israelites were summoned to give their gifts.  The metal workers gave metal. The woodworkers gave  wood. The knitters gave fabrics. The jewelers gave gems.  Everybody participated.

            If the Israelites were hot, hungry, thirsty, tired, traumatized, and dislocated, how did they summon the ability to give so many beautiful gifts?  And how can we do that when we are in a wilderness of our own?

            Pirkei Avot has this teaching that is so apropos.  A scholar with the felicitous name of Ben Hay-Hay taught: lefum tzaarah agarah, according to the struggle is the reward.  Or put differently, our reward is commensurate to our struggle.  When we have a real struggle, and we get past it, the reward is so sweet.

            Which means that when we are in a place of struggle, when it feels long and hard and dark as it does all too often now, that struggle is itself an opportunity. How can we redeem a struggle that we are having by learning something from it, by evolving, by doing something different as a result, that enables us to give a different kind of gift?

            The late doctor Sherwin Nuland shared the origin story of how and why he became a doctor.  When he was a little boy, his mother was sick.  He remembers her medical team being wise and compassionate.  When she died, he resolved that when he grew up, he wanted to be a doctor like the doctors who took care of his mother.  He wanted to do for others what doctors did for his family.

            What gifts can emerge from our struggles?  When we lose our job, how can we write a new and meaningful chapter?  When we retire and now have time on our hands, to what excellent use can we put that time strengthening something we care about?  When we feel the pang of loneliness, how can that loneliness inspire us to deepen friendship and relationship that makes us feel connected?  

            Ben Zussman was a 22-year old Israeli soldier who fell in battle.  I knew his great grandparents: his great grandfather Ben Zussman, whose name he bears, and his great grandmother Bernice. Because they lived in Denver, Colorado, during the Jewish people’s golden age in America,  they were blessed to live until a ripe old age and to die at home, surrounded by their generations.  Their great grandson Ben Zussman did not have that luxury. He grew up in Israel.  He had a different reality: extreme meaning, extreme purpose, extreme sacrifice. He had finished his military service shortly before October 7.  When October 7 happened, he volunteered for his miluim duty without being called.  And on his way to the battle front in Gaza, he wrote a letter to his parents which surely is as holy as any Haftarah.  On his way to battle Ben Zussman wrote these prophetic words:

“I’m writing you this message on the way to the base. If you’re reading this, something must have happened to me….

“Even if something happens to me, I don’t allow you to sink into sorrow. I had the zechus to fulfill…my mission and you can be sure that I’m looking down on you and smiling a huge smile….

“If chas v’chalilah, you’re sitting shiva, transform it into a week of friends, family, and fun. There should be food – fleishig of course – beers, sweet drinks, nuts, tea and of course, Ima’s cookies. Make jokes, hear stories, and meet all my friends you haven’t met yet. I’m jealous of you, I would have liked to sit there and see everyone.”….

“I’ll say it again – I left home without even being called up to the reserves…If I need to die, הלוואי it will happen while defending others and our country.”

            That is Ben Zussman.  When our friend Micah Goodman sent his new book to press, about Israel after the war, what will tomorrow look like in Israel, he dedicated the book to Ben Zussman. Micah explained that Ben epitomizes the spirit of Israel.

            We live here, not there.  We are not asked to make that kind of sacrifice.   But we live in our own hard reality.  Our Torah has prepared us for this moment. The Tabernacle was built in the wilderness, not at Canyon Ranch. Our legacy is forged by the gifts we give when we are in the wilderness.  We are in the wilderness.  What gifts can we give that despite it all will affirm life and hope. Shabbat shalom.