“On the day the Tabernacle was erected, the cloud covered the Tabernacle," the Bible records in the Torah portion of Behaalosecha. "Then, in the evening, there would be upon the Tabernacle like a fiery glow till morning."
"From then on, it remained that way," the Torah continues. "The cloud would cover it [by day] and a glow of fire by night."
SMUGNESS VS. DESPAIR
The Tabernacle was the edifice erected by the people of Israel in the Sinai desert to serve as a home for the Divine Presence. In Jewish writings, the Tabernacle represents the place in the human heart where the light of G-d resides. The Tabernacle, then, exists timelessly within the human soul.
This sacred and noble place within us must include both a cloud by day and a fire by night. Each person experiences in his or her life "days" and "nights," moments of light and moments of darkness, times of happiness and contentment, as well as times of agony and turmoil. For some, the days are longer than the nights; for others, the nights sadly exceed the days. Yet most humans possess a share of both realities.
When things are going well for us – when we're paying the bills nicely, the kids are healthy, our spouses are there for us, and we're satisfied with our lot – we often forget how vulnerable we really are in this world. We tend to become smug, complacent, and desensitized. We often become apathetic to other people's pain. We don't feel the need for genuine friendships and certainly not for a relationship with G-d. We don't feel the urgent need to be real. At moments of bliss, people often feel that they are on top of the world and they do not need anybody. They forget their humanness and simplicity.
On the other hand, when things become (Heaven forbid) difficult and painful – your company is “in der erd” (Yiddish for “in the ground”), a loss in the family, illness of a loved one, a marriage goes sour, the bank is after us, our children are not doing well, or we are overcome by inner mental or physical challenges – we often fall prey to feelings of despair and loneliness. We sink into the morass of life's hardships, as we say to ourselves, "It's dark, and it's getting darker."
MAINTAIN PERSPECTIVE
Thus, the Torah teaches us a movingly profound lesson.
If you are to become a human Tabernacle, if you wish to discover the grace of G-d within your heart, you must recall the darker cloud hovering above you even during times of brightness and splendor. A person must always remember that, ultimately, he cannot claim ownership over anything in his life. Life is a gift, love is a gift, health is a gift, relationships are gifts, parents are gifts, and children are gifts. Financial success, too, is not a natural symptom of your brilliant investments; it is a gift. One ought never to become blind to the truth that everything can change in a single instance and that there is so much pain in the world. When you remember the clouds, you will never become arrogant, detached, and false.
On the other hand, when night falls upon us, when life exposes its painful and darker side to us, we must recall the glowing light hovering above us. We must remember that every experience we endure is part of our life's mission to serve G-d under these circumstances and to transform the world into a home for goodness and G-dliness. Every challenge contains an opportunity for deeper awareness, growth, and rebirth. It invites us into a deeper relationship with our soul and our G-d. Each cloud contains a flame within.
RABBI YY JACOBSON
