A teacher of mine once gave us a photocopy from an obscure publication from the early 1950’s. Out of sheer laziness, or peace of mind, he neglected to trim off a small, unrelated d’var Torah on the margin of the page. Out of boredom, or restless curiosity, I read it. Though the contents of the class have long been purged from my soul, the inadvertent d’var Torah has remained indelibly. It was a d’var Torah that came out of nowhere.
There is a sweet irony to that little d’var Torah. Sometimes, the most precious piece of Torah can be found in the most unlikely of places. A spark of Torah may be lurking in some dusty corner, in the naïve truthfulness of a 3-year old, in the margins of the otherwise unremarkable, in the off-hand comment of a simple Jew, or in the words of a wise man, but not necessarily during his d’rasha.
The Rabbis say, “Do not take the blessing of a common man (hedyot) lightly” [Berachot 7a]. We should look for Torah (and inspiration) not only where we expect it and from whom we expect it, but in out-of-the-way places and even from the out-of-the way people. Sometimes, one is surprised by Torah at the stoplight, but will you have the presence of mind to be introduced before the light turns green? You cannot always tell where you will find the marks of truth, but will you be able to recognize them when you do?
The d’var Torah from the margin was written by Rabbi Bernard Berzon and it went something like this, though I have adapted it somewhat: Of all the holy vessels and utensils of the mishkan (the Tabernacle), there is a special bond among the k’ruvim (cherubim), the menorah and the chatzotzrot (silver trumpets). These three, and only these three, are described with one special term.
Sh’mot 25:18 -“And you shall make 2 golden cherubim, of beaten work…”
Sh’mot 25:31 – “And you shall make a pure golden menorah, of beaten work you shall make the menorah…”
B’midbar 10:2 - “Make for yourself two silver trumpets, of beaten work you shall make them…”
“Of beaten work” refers to metal that is hammered out or beaten by hand. The Hebrew term for this is “miksha”, which is related to the word “kasheh”, meaning hard. In other words, it was hard work to make them. Indeed, the Torah describes that it took artisans of surpassing skill and dedication to create the work of the Tabernacle. In the case of the menorah itself, the task proved too hard even for Moshe without divine assistance.
In addition, the very form of creating implements of beaten work requires hardness, or firmness. Beating metal into thin sheets requires a brutal diligence to ironing out smoothly its planes and surfaces.
Perhaps there is a symbolism linking these three implements and the common vocabulary of their creation. Each may represent an aspect of our lives in which we, too, need to be artisans, in which we must exercise a brutal diligence and hammer out our principles.
The Cherubim could represent our children. The Rabbis (Sukkah 5a) have said that these angelic depictions had the innocent faces of children. It is surely no secret that raising our children to be successful Jews and successful human beings is hard work. We would all like to forge our children into principled, strong and beautiful people, the kind of holy children that would be worthy to serve in the Holy of Holies. This does not happen automatically. As parents, we know how hard it is to see our children through teething and toilet-training, adolescence and independence, rebellion and maturity. We know how difficult it is to provide for their material and emotional needs. And we know that there is no shortcut, no easy way out. The same standards of effort that we apply to their other needs should be applied to the task of making them good, God-loving, God-fearing Jews as well. There are no short cuts and there is no room for leisure.
