The Mishkan of Kavana
Before you read any further, I'd like for you to pause for a moment and think back to a Shabbat service (or other communal prayer experience) that you found especially meaningful and stirring. Perhaps what stands out was the musical experience, or the quiet solitude in the presence of others, the poetry of the liturgy itself, a moment of heartfelt yearning or connection with the Divine, or being in the company of family and/or friends.
In particular, though, I'm wondering about a detail that we don't always think about so overtly. I want to know: how was the space configured? Were participants sitting in rows of chairs or pews, all facing the same direction, or were they sitting in the round, facing one another? At Kavana, we use both of these modalities (plus other variations on the themes... semi-circles, ovals, etc.) as we gather in different worship spaces on different Shabbatot of the month. This plurality of ways that we configure ourselves when we come together can express a lot about our goals and intentions.
In this week's Torah portion, Parashat Terumah, the Israelites are instructed to build a Mishkan, a Tabernacle, where the people can assemble and God can dwell among them. As the Torah delineates how this portable sanctuary is to be constructed, every detail of the structure and its furnishings is understood to encode deep meaning.
I want to focus our attention on two nearly identical phrases -- easily overlooked, but deeply significant -- that appear in this parasha and speak to the question of orientation.
First, a pair of cherubim (winged angelic beings) are commissioned to sit atop the Ark. The text of Exodus 25:20 reads as follows (with scholar Robert Alter's translation into English):
וְהָי֣וּ הַכְּרֻבִים֩ פֹּרְשֵׂ֨י כְנָפַ֜יִם לְמַ֗עְלָה סֹכְכִ֤ים בְּכַנְפֵיהֶם֙ עַל־הַכַּפֹּ֔רֶת וּפְנֵיהֶ֖ם אִ֣ישׁ אֶל־אָחִ֑יו אֶ֨ל־הַכַּפֹּ֔רֶת יִהְי֖וּ פְּנֵ֥י הַכְּרֻבִֽים׃
And the cherubim shall spread wings above, shielding the cover with their wings, and their faces toward each other, toward the cover the faces of the cherubim shall be.
The phrase I've bolded above is the one of special interest to me. Colloquially, it indicates that these cherubim were facing each other, but literally the language of the text is “ish el achiv,” “a man to his brother.”
In the following chapter, we learn about how the mishkan structure itself is to be assembled. With the cloth tapestries that bound this giant tent structure (see Exodus 26:3, 26:5, and 26:6) and then with planks of wood whose tenons and sockets fit together to form the Tabernacle's walls, a parallel phrase is used: “isha el achotah,” “a woman to her sister.” For example, Exodus 26:17 reads:
שְׁתֵּ֣י יָד֗וֹת לַקֶּ֙רֶשׁ֙ הָאֶחָ֔ד מְשֻׁ֨לָּבֹ֔ת אִשָּׁ֖ה אֶל־אֲחֹתָ֑הּ כֵּ֣ן תַּעֲשֶׂ֔ה לְכֹ֖ל קַרְשֵׁ֥י הַמִּשְׁכָּֽן׃
Each plank shall have two tenons, parallel to each other; do the same with all the planks of the Tabernacle.
These two phrases -- "ish el achiv" and "isha el achotah" -- are identical, save for the one (notable) difference of gender. (On a grammatical level, the reason for the difference is pretty straightforward: k’ruvim/cherubim is a masculine noun in Hebrew and yadot/tenons a feminine noun.)
A couple of things strike me as I consider these phrases. First, "ish el achiv" and "isha el achotah" both take the building project at hand and recast it as a sibling togetherness project. The cherubim, the cloth panels, and the wood boards are all described in familial terms, as brothers/sisters/siblings. In this way, the language of the text draws attention to the connective function of the Mishkan, and how it draws the Israelites into close relationship with one another and with God. (Closely connected to this is the way we often use "Hinei mah tov u'mah na'im shevet achim gam yachad" as a gathering song. It, too, draws on sibling language, translating to: "Behold, how good and pleasant it is that siblings - achim - can dwell together harmoniously.")
Second, though, the visual pictures that the two phrases paint are quite different. The cherubim's orientation dictates that these two carved angels face in towards one another, as they stand on top of the Ark which contains the tablets of the commandments. Their face-to-face orientation symbolizes deep relational connection, and perhaps also hints at the potential for confrontation (they stand opposite one another, or in opposition). In contrast, the planks, and, similarly, the cloth panels, must be laid side-by-side, in parallel. Oriented next to one another as they are assembled, they are unified in function and in vision. By all facing in the same direction, they create a wall that delineates the sacred space of the Mishkan.
Both of these configurations ring true to me today when I think about Kavana's orientation. We have conceived of this community as a place where people can gather face-to-face for intimate conversations and experiences. When two students sit across from each other and discuss a text in chevruta, the vision of cherubim facing one another comes to life! When we create opportunities for hard conversations to happen -- whether this is deep sharing and listening around disparate views on Israel/Palestine, or board meeting wrestlings around organizational growth tensions -- I see this kind of face-to-face and internally-focused sacred relationship in play.
But also, when I think of planks standing side-by-side, I picture volunteers working shoulder-to-shoulder in a kitchen preparing meals for our Caring Committee to distribute, or of a multigenerational group banding together to tackle a social justice issue, wall-like in their resoluteness as they represent our communal values in the world. This shoulder-to-shoulder framework -- with directional alignment toward a common goal -- allows us to build the Tabernacles of today: vessels that hold people.
Returning to the question I opened with, I am so glad that Kavana also opts for both of these modes/configurations at different times in our Shabbat prayer spaces... both because that gives our partners and participants the option to figure out which religious services feel best to them and lean into personal preference (in the context of communal experience), and also because both of these orientations matter and serve our mission on a symbolic level.
At Rabbi Jay's Kabbalat Shabbat service (happening tonight), attendees mostly face one direction, but in more of a "smoosh" shape and with leaders facing out. "This service blends joyous song and prayer, warm connection, and thought-provoking learning."
At tomorrow morning's Shabbat Morning Minyan in Queen Anne , everyone -- including myself and the other prayer leaders -- face east, pointing to the group's alignment. With traditional liturgy and lots of singing, prayers are all oriented in the same direction.
At last week's lay-led Shabbat Levavi gathering (meaning open-armed, warm, heartfelt - and it'll happen again next month!) and also at the monthly Kabbalat Shabbat service with Traci, an in-the-round configuration puts the congregation into face-to-face connection with one another, more like the angels atop the Ark.
Both the side-by-side alignment and the face-to-face configuration are part of our sacred story from Parashat Terumah. Both arrangements are important and holy. Together, these brotherly/sisterly sibling bonds demonstrate that the Kavana community seeks both to build and strengthen internal connections, and also to enable people to work together to make change. Our work is at times aligned and at times leaving room for healthy disagreement, at once inward-facing and outward-facing... but always intentional.
Whichever configuration appeals most to you in the moment -- whichever Shabbat service or other communal activity is calling your name -- I sincerely hope you'll jump in and join together with this sacred community, in prayer and more. In doing so, we will be both the cherubim and the planks that help delineate holy space and facilitate connections in all dimensions.
Wishing you a Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Rachel Nussbaum
