Weekly Torah Portion

Gaining independence

Pekudei
Exodus 38:21-40:38

In parshat Teruma, when we began reading the account of the Mishkan, God explained the reason for this building project: “Let them make Me a sanctuary that I may dwell among them.” And now, at the conclusion of Shemot, we see this purpose fulfilled. The Torah says: “When Moses 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.”

Something about this bothers Rashi. He notes that our text says, “Moses could not enter the Tent of Meeting,” but another verse, in Bamidbar (7:89), says, “When Moses went into the Tent of Meeting to speak with Him.” Well, was Moses able to enter the Tabernacle or wasn’t he? Rashi solves the apparent contradiction this way: In our passage, the Torah says, “because the cloud had settled on it.” This must mean that as long as the cloud rested on the Tent of Meeting Moses was not able to enter, but when the cloud lifted, Moses was able to enter and God would speak with him.

But there’s another difficulty. Rabbi Yitzhak Schochet of London notes that many commentators observe that Moses was like a ben bayit, a member of the household, in God’s house. He asks: “Surely a household member has constant access, enabling him to come and go as he pleases?” He continues: “What is quite apparent from the whole book of Shemot and beyond is how Moses turns to God every time he is confronted with a problem. Each time he is faced with an awkward people in emotional turmoil he seeks God’s guidance. He never seems to try and resolve the difficulties on his own.”

By limiting Moses’ access, God was trying to teach him and the Jewish people an important lesson about being free and independent men and women — not, God forbid, that we shouldn’t turn to God in times of need, but that as adults, we have the responsibility to make a good-faith effort to solve our own problems before we ask for help.

In the comic strip “Zits,” 15-year-old Jeremy is engaged in a conversation — or perhaps confrontation — with his father. The teenager says, “You expect ME to pay a $400 cell phone bill?!?” His father asks, “Who incurred the charges?” and Jeremy answers, “Me.” “Who promised to be responsible for any overages?” “Me.” “Who assured me that this would never happen?” “Me.” “So then,” asks the father, “who should pay the bill?” His son replies, “I’m not sure I follow your logic.”

Jeremy’s father could easily pay the bill himself — he’s an orthodontist so he can afford it. But because he is a good father, he will insist that Jeremy pay it by finding some sort of job or using many, many weeks’ allowance and the birthday money he had been saving. And because he is a good father he will stay on his son’s case until he pays the bill, enduring all the complaining, door slamming, and surliness that comes with an unhappy teenager.

One of the most difficult tasks of parenting is to pull back and allow a child to struggle with a problem that the parent could easily solve. No parent wants to see his or her child unhappy. But good parents know that if they don’t make their children face the consequences of their decisions and struggle to solve their own problems, if they don’t make it clear that they can’t expect Mom and Dad to fix everything for them, those children will never grow up to be independent adults. Good parents are ready to jump in when a child is truly in over his head, but let him try to work things out on his own first.

And this is what God was doing when He limited Moses’ access to the Tent of Meeting. Like a good parent, God was saying, when you have a problem or face a difficult situation, don’t just come running to Me. First, see if you can work things out yourself. Search the Torah for a solution, think about your options, talk to the elders and your trusted advisers. And then, if the problem is truly too difficult for you, bring it to Me.

I, God, am not abandoning you, but I want you, and all the people, to be strong and independent, to use your hearts and minds, to be just and compassionate and creative. I want you to face the world with confidence, courage, conviction, and faith and to learn to stand on your own two feet. But never forget — when you truly need Me, the door will always be open for you.

Rabbi Joyce Newmark, a resident of Teaneck, is a former religious leader of congregations in Leonia and Lancaster, Pa.