In the spring of 1948, David Ben-Gurion arrived at a meeting of the Provisional State Council, the precursor of the Knesset, in Tel Aviv. He was met by security guards who had been given explicit instructions to let no one in without an invitation. Of course, this Council member was not just anyone. For 13 years he had been chairman of the Executive Committee of the Jewish Agency for Palestine and, at age 61, was beginning his long service as the first Prime Minister of the new State of Israel. Nonetheless, the guards had their orders. They asked Ben-Gurion for his invitation. His aides were annoyed, even indignant, but “the Old Man” silenced their objections. He told them that the guards were correct, and he presented them his formal invitation, after which he was ushered into the hall.

Perhaps Ben-Gurion, who was an avid student of the Bible, had in mind a precedent from Parashat Pekudei. For four of the past five weeks, we have been reading about the construction of the mishkan, the portable “Tabernacle” in which the sacred sacrifices were offered, and its appurtenances, and about the manufacture of the ornamental garments that Aaron and his sons were to wear when performing their duties as priests. We spent two weeks reading the divine instructions, and last week and much of this week, our Torah portions have been about the carrying out of those directions.

Toward the end of this parasha, all that work is at last completed. As we enter the last chapter of Exodus, Moses is directed to begin on the first of Nisan to erect the mishkan and make the final arrangements for its inauguration. For fifteen verses, the directions are spelled out in detail, from setting up the portable building to arranging its interior, from washing and dressing Aaron and his sons to anointing them with oil. Each step is to be performed by Moses: “And the Lord spoke to Moses, saying: […] You shall set up…. You shall spread… You shall put….  You shall bring…. You shall take ….” Then, in v. 16, we read: “And Moses did as all that the Lord had charged him, thus he did.” But just as Exodus was not content with a one-line report of the fulfillment of God’s double-parasha-length instructions for producing the components of the mishkan and its service, so the book now relates in detail Moses’ fulfillment of each of the elaborate sets of instructions we have just read. Seventeen verses are dedicated to “Moses set up… He spread…. He put…. He brought…. He took….”

Moses, who had outsourced the manufacture of the Tabernacle, its furnishings, and the priestly vestments, is now a hands-on contractor. At last, in v. 33, we read, “And Moses completed the task.” At once, in v. 34, we hear this: “And the cloud covered the Tent of Meeting and the glory of the Lord filled the Tabernacle.” The Lord, who had promised to dwell among the Israelites once they built him a sacred space according to His directions, has indeed immediately come to occupy His dwelling. Next we hear: “And Moses could not come into the Tent of Meeting.” The Lord’s appointed designee, the man who had labored to construct the mishkan, was banned from the very tent he had only moments before erected.

It sometimes happens, at times both momentous and quotidian, that the things we ourselves produce take on a life, a role, a significance far beyond those who brought them into being. Can legislators claim exemption from laws they themselves have enacted? Can the author of a book or the director of a film insist that it be interpreted in a particular way, or ban alternative interpretations? What folly it is for the founders of a company or any institution to attempt to exert authority over every aspect of its management, rather than trust those to whom responsibility has been delegated! Even our authority over our own children is limited in many significant ways, not only by society but by the very fact of their being human beings, which entails rights that may conflict with our own needs and desires.

Like Moses, who stepped back out of the mishkan never to step back in, instead witnessing its being filled immediately with the Divine Presence, we too have to learn to let go of what we create, to recognize the boundaries we once could cross but can no longer. We too have to learn to respect the integrity and sanctity of the Other, even if that Other is one we ourselves have brought into being. That is the insight that Ben-Gurion taught, an insight the father of that nascent Israeli democracy might have found at the conclusion of the book of Exodus.
 
In memory of my teacher Rabbi Shmuel Avidor-Hakohen (1926-2005), who related the story about Ben Gurion in a class at the Schechter Rabbinical Seminary in 1999, noting that he himself was present on that occasion. 

In this parasha, Moses makes an accounting of all of the costs of building the Tabernacle. The midrash poses a simple question: Why? The answer is far from simple.

• When the work of building the Tabernacle was completed, he said to them: Come and I shall render an accounting before
  you.
  
  
• Moses said to them: These are the records of the Tabernacle, such and such was disbursed for the Tabernacle.
  
  
• In the course of calculating, he forgot one thousand seven hundred and seventy five shekels used for the hooks for the posts.
  
  
• He sat and thought: Now Israel will be able to say Moses took them!
  
  
• What did [God] do? He opened his eyes and showed them made into hooks for the posts.
  
  
• At that moment, all of Israel was reconciled to the work of the Tabernacle.
  
  
• And why did he make an accounting? The Holy One blessed be He trusted him, as is written: “Not so with my servant Moses; he is trusted throughout My household” (Numbers 12:7).
  
  
• And why then did Moses say to them, come let us treat of the Tabernacle and I will make an accounting before you? Because he heard the scoffers of Israel talking behind his back…(Exodus Rabbah 51:6)

1. Why did Moses feel that it was necessary to provide an accounting?


2. Why was it necessary to pay attention to what the scoffers were saying behind his back?


3. Does Moses’ reaction tell us that the scoffers were not limited to an insignificant few?


4. Isn’t it reasonable that people should wonder about the large stores of gold, precious metals and fabrics being collected for the Tabernacle?


5. Isn’t only natural for Moses to feel a need to demonstrate that he is “clean,” and that the treasures are being used exclusively for holy purposes?


6.  When the numbers do not seem to agree, why does Moses say:  “Now Israel will be able to say Moses took them”?


7. Why is it that only after God helps Moses to remember what became of the missing shekels are we told: At that moment, all of Israel was reconciled to the work of the Tabernacle?


8. Does the midrash wish to tell us that until Moses made the accounting, some of the people, or a small part of the people, were suspicious of Moses or questioned his integrity?


9. Why is the author of the midrash puzzled? Why does he ask “And why did he make an accounting? The Holy One blessed be He trusted him ”? Wasn’t God’s trust enough? Would it be heretical to claim otherwise?


10. Is it possible that the author of the midrash is actually directing his criticism at his contemporary leaders?