The central question in the book of Exodus is simple yet profound: “Is God with us or not?” This is not just a theological inquiry but a matter of practical living for the Israelites as they journey through the wilderness. As the story unfolds, we see God’s response to this question. While the Golden Calf incident serves as a warning, much of the remainder of the book focuses on the building of the Mishkan, the Tabernacle, where God’s presence would dwell among His people. The focus here is not only on the spiritual, but on the physical—on the plans, the pattern, and the details that God gives to ensure His presence remains with His people.
This approach is not, as some might think, overly practical or “non-spiritual.” Quite the opposite. In fact, the Torah itself underscores the importance of tangible experiences to communicate the deepest values of God. The very fact that God gives detailed instructions for the Mishkan teaches us that holiness and the divine can—and should—be experienced in the physical world. This is not about separating the sacred from the ordinary, but about making the ordinary sacred.
Synagogue: A Sacred Space
When we think of sanctified spaces, we immediately think of the synagogue, our place of worship. In Exodus, though the Mishkan was constructed in the wilderness, it was sanctified by the Ark, which contained the Testimony—the very Word of God. The Hebrew word used here is “Edu” for testimony, and “mo’ed” for appointment, signaling a special moment when God meets with His people. The Ark in the Mishkan was not just a piece of furniture—it was the place where God’s presence was tangibly felt, where heaven touched earth.
In our modern context, our synagogues are similarly sanctified by the presence of the Aron Kodesh, the Holy Ark that holds the Torah. But just like the Mishkan, it is not the materials or the wealth that make the space holy. The holiness of the synagogue does not come from the grandeur or the wealth of the place, but from the act of sanctification itself. This echoes the pattern seen in Exodus, where the people of Israel brought their offerings freely and willingly—not like they did in Egypt, where they were compelled to give. In the same way, we are invited to bring ourselves freely to God, offering our time, our energy, and our hearts.
Home: A Sacred Place
But the sacred space does not stop at the synagogue. It moves into our homes, especially on Erev Shabbat, when we gather around the Shabbat table. The Shabbat table is not just a place to eat—it is a miniature altar (Mizbayach M’aht), a reminder that our homes too are to be sanctified. In this way, our homes become a holy place where God’s presence can dwell. It is in the home that we practice holiness in the ordinary moments—around the dinner table, in the acts of kindness and love we show to our family, and in the quiet moments of prayer and reflection.
Shabbat is a time to pause and make our homes holy, to invite God into our midst. It’s a reminder that holiness is not confined to a building or a place but can be found wherever we are willing to make space for it.
Heart: Purity and Holiness Within
The gold on the inside of the Ark was a symbol of purity—hidden from view, only seen by God. The gold on the outside was visible to all, a reflection of the inner holiness that radiates outward. This speaks to us of the purity of our own hearts. The message is clear: what is inside matters, even if it isn’t always visible to the world. Our inner life—the state of our hearts—is of utmost importance to God.
Yeshua, is described as HaMaquom, the place where God’s presence dwells. We, too, are HaMaquom. Our hearts are meant to be places where God’s Spirit can dwell. And just as the Ark required a covering of gold to symbolize atonement, we too need that covering—the Kiporah, the atonement cover. It is through this process of purification that our hearts are made clean, allowing us to truly reflect God’s glory.
This purification isn’t just a one-time event, it’s a continual process. It’s a call to examine our hearts regularly and to seek God’s presence, allowing Him to transform us from the inside out. Our outward actions and expressions of morality reflect the purity of our hearts. As we sanctify our hearts, we can begin to sanctify our homes, our communities, and our world.
Divine Protection and Invitation
Finally, let us consider the image of the Kruvim, the cherubim, guarding the Ark. These weren’t the chubby, angelic figures we often see in Western art. Instead, they were powerful beings inspired by the imagery of ancient Egypt—winged sphinxes, symbolizing divine protection. The Kruvim stood as guardians of God’s presence, ensuring that the sanctity of the Ark was maintained.
This imagery speaks to the protection that God offers over our sanctuaries, our homes, and our hearts. It is a reminder that God’s presence is not just passive—it actively protects, sanctifies, and guards us. But there’s also an invitation here: just as the people of Israel were invited to build the Mishkan, we are invited to build sanctuaries in our lives—places where God can dwell, places where we cooperate with Him in the work of sanctification.
God is not distant, and His presence is not something we must earn. It is freely given. All we must do is make space for Him. Whether in the synagogue, our homes, or our hearts, we are invited to invite Him in. Let us cooperate with God in the work of sanctification, inviting His presence to dwell in our midst.
May we prepare our hearts, our homes, and our worship spaces to be places where God’s glory is made
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