This is the portion you shall take from them: gold, and silver, and copper ... and shittim wood. (25:5)
Rashi: “From where did they have wood in the desert? R. Tanchuma explained: Our forefather Yaakov foresaw through Divine inspiration that Israel was destined to build a Mishkan (Tabernacle) in the wilderness. He brought shittim trees to Egypt and planted them there, and he commanded his sons to take them with them when they would depart from Egypt.”
Rashi: “What is meant by the beams? From those that have been standing as designated for this purpose. Our father Yaakov planted shittim trees in Egypt, and when he was dying, he commanded his sons to take them up with them when they would depart from Egypt. He told them that Hashem would command them in the future to make a Mishkan of shittim wood in the desert. So he said, ‘See to it that you should have them ready at hand.’” (26:15]
Miriam the prophetess ... took the tambourine in her hand, and all the women went forth after her with tambourines. (15:20)
Rashi: “The righteous women of the generation were certain that Hashem would perform miracles for them, so they took tambourines out of Egypt.”
For 200-plus years, the Jewish People had suffered personal and national persecution, prosecution, inhumane servitude, and genocide under Pharaoh’s regime. For a Jew entrenched in such a protracted nightmare, what emotional response would be associated with viewing those trees? How about resentment? The bitter recollection of unfulfilled dreams? The painful reminder of their ancestors’ overly optimistic wishful thinking? A cruel joke?
In a similar vein, of what use were the tambourines when the Jews were (apparently) dying from thirst (before Hashem miraculously quenched that thirst at Marah)? What kind of cruel, ill-fitting prop were those instruments when Pharaoh’s infantry was barreling down on the helpless, defenseless Jews (before Hashem miraculously split the sea)?
In different contexts, Yaakov’s shittim trees and Miriam’s tambourines echoed similar notes, notes of hopefulness and optimism in an abyss completely devoid of hope and optimism. Reminders that a future existed regardless of how bleak the present seemed to be. Visual aids that would enable us “ordinary” Jews (as if there is such a thing) to tap into the wellspring of faith ever-present in our great leaders.
All too often, dreams are abandoned in the “Get Real” labyrinth or forsaken somewhere along the path of “practicality.” Rabbi Noach Weinberg zt’l used to teach: “When people say, ‘You’ll grow up,’ what they really mean is, ‘You’ll give up, like I did.’” It’s fitting that upon his death, one of Rav Weinberg’s students eulogized how “[Rav Noach] dared to dream a dream that no one believed possible. A man of vision is not afraid to stand alone. For such a long time, he was alone. Few encouraged him.”
In our life’s journey, we choose what to pack and what to discard (albeit some emotional baggage is harder to let go of than others). Hold tight to your dreams. For things often can shift during the flight of life, but an unquenchable hopefulness and optimism can always remain close at hand. Such is the legacy of Yaakov and Miriam. Such is the song of the trees and the tambourines.
RABBI JARED VIDERS
