Parashat Vayakheil - Pikudei
reflection by Rebecca Schisler
Parshat Vayekhel describes the process of building the mishkan, the tabernacle, as a kind of temple-on-the-move where the divine can dwell among the people. Instructions for its formation are incredibly detailed, addressing its structure, interior furnishings, and courtyard.
After furnishing the menorah and altar, the craftsman Bezalel builds a large bronze bowl at the entrance of the tent, to be filled with water so the priests can purify their hands and feet before serving at the altar. The surface of the bowl is made with "mirrors of the women who served at the entrance to the tent of meeting" (exodus 38:8).
Who were these women, and why were their mirrors used to construct this important vessel?
Ibn Ezra suggests that these were righteous women who donated their hand mirrors to the mishkan as a symbolic act of denouncing personal vanity in service to the divine.
The great medieval commentator Rashi offers a different, midrashic explanation: first, Moses rejected the mirrors, angry that objects associated with vanity should be used in the construction of the holy temple. But God tells Moses to accept the mirrors because they had been used for a holy purpose during the Israelites' enslavement in Egypt! Bone-weary and exhausted from harsh labor, the Israelites had lost the inspiration to continue bearing offspring. But the women know that even from the midst of that hopelessness, the continuation of life was sacred. They brought the mirrors to their husbands and showed them their faces, teasing them and reminding them of their beauty, sparking the flame of love and their will to procreate. Perhaps this mirror-gazing was an act of vanity, but it enabled life to continue from the midst of great suffering.
Is there a place for vanity on the spiritual path?
Meditation practice can be quick to illuminate our habits of "self-ing" - fixating on everything I, Me, Mine. Too much self-ing can lead to suffering and disconnection, blocking access to the gratitude, humility, curiosity and wonder that can emerge when self-consciousness ceases. And yet, there is an important place for noticing and affirming our beauty, goodness and worth - especially for those of us conditioned towards heavy self-criticism and 'not enough-ness.' When we understand our intrinsic interconnection to others and the world around us, we also see that responding lovingly to the external world begins with loving ourselves. There is a beauty within us that persists even in our lowest moments, a nobility in the perception of who and what we truly are. When we see that, we can help others see it too. We can offer it up on the altar as a profound expression of love, in sacred service to the continuation and flourishing of life.
The mishkan's instructions include ornate descriptions of crimson and gold, find twisted linens, embroidered tapestries, precious stones. Beauty is clearly important, a divine quality of being that nourishes and feeds the soul. Attending to it is necessary for the creation of sacred physical spaces - which can include our bodies, our homes, our earth. This kind of beauty-making comes not from a place of ego or self-criticism, but from a place of love. In our parsha, it is written that the craftspeople and artisans assigned to construct the mishkan are endowed with "hacham-lev," which literally means "wisdom of the heart" (exodus 36:1). From love and care emerges the wisdom we need to tend our physicality well. It is this love and care which makes a physical space beautiful, and suitable for the divine to dwell.
Shabbat shalom!