“The Column of Fire and the Cloud”

Parashat Pekudéi. B´nei Israel, 2016

Rabino Darío Feiguin

Over the period of a couple of decades, it was said that the Bible was not a theological book. This thought process reached the point of affirming among academic circles that there was no real evidence regarding a reflective thought about G-d.

I remember discussions at the Unviersity of Jerusalem at the end of the 70s. I would get annoyed by the arrogance and the insensitive perspective of some of the profesors upon reading the biblical text. I thought and continue to think that they were wrong.

However, there is something that is certain: the biblical theology can not stand alone. It fundamentally points to the idea that the reflection about G-d, is based on a true orientation toward mankind, and in how this reflection impacts our lives and our daily conduct and in our relationship to creation and with everything that surrounds us.

Inspite of the fact that it is not possible to reduce the Torah to a compendium of ethical direction, it is clear that theology is fundemental to it, a pathway leading us to ethics, and this idea was developed by rabinic Judaism as we know it today.

This week we finish reading from the book of Shemot. It is the book that narrates the exodus from Egypt, the slavery and the epic departure of our people on their journey toward the promised land and toward liberty, the enormous and epic miracles, the crossing of the sea, the water, the manna, the meat, and of course Sinai.

When we review the story, we can not be assured that G-d is not at its center. We see his chosen delegate Moshe, growing from a timid and stammering young boy, who turns into the great leader of the Chosen People.

When we study the book of Shemot, Sefer Hagueulá: the book of Redemption,as it is referred to by the classic sage and Kabalist Raman, we see that it is the most theocentric of all. Why? Because we evidence at the end of the book a twist in intepretation that takes us on a journey from the that which is on high and unfathomable to to that which is close and dear and intimate to us.

In previous Parashot of Shemot and especially in this last one, Pekudéi, we do not see a lot of G-d’s all powerfull and transcendent nature as in the previous chapters, but rather, in this parshat we see another facet of G-d, one that is smaller, intimate and more human.

Elohim, Shadai, and also Adonai, are names of G-d that are invoked in this the last parashot of the book that are less distanced from man and opens the door for Shejiná, a Divine presence that is more intimate to mankind.

The Mishkan and its role as the mobile tabernacle that drifts on its journey through the desert is what I believe to represent man himself on his journey. The Mishkan is the depository for the Shejiná.

La Shejiná is the dinve presence that Kabala classifies as the feminine side of G-d. She does not deny or undermine the other more transcendent and unreachable side of G-d. However our attention is drawn to this other divine facet that manifests itself within us and not external to us.

Typical of the biblical descriptions, this irrefutable theology, is symbolized in a graphic and metaphorical way.

The last verses of the book of Shemot speak precisely of the Shejiná and it is represented metaphorically like a column of fire that illuninates the night, and like a cloud that shows us our way during the day.

I always like the imagery of the Fire, especially contrasted against the darkness of the night. The fire is passion, the power of the irrational, capable of doing anything with its overwhileming strenghth.

There is something magical when we light fire and how it pushes away the darkness; when we get close to it and feel its warth, or when we marvel at it and the sparks that rise to the sky.

I feel this Shejiná in the fire of the Ner Tamid, in the candels that we light every shabbat or during the holidays and also in the campfires that we lit at the more than 50 juvenile retreats that I led.

Just as i always like the image of fire at night, I was always perturbed by the image of the cloud that leads our way during the day.

It did not magically trap me like the fire, and it frankly does not move me as a symbol.

Not long ago; however, I understood something new and different that I had not perceived about the image of the cloud that I want to share with you.

It is true that a cloud is darker than the day. It does not add light, but rather takes light away by blocking out the sun. However, this is the point, because this is the time when Shejiná appears. The day, as different from the night, seems to us like a more rational reality, and more inteligent. Paradoxically it is this reality that sometimes leads us away from G-d.

We think that we understand things and that they are clear to us. We think that we have the answer. We think that we understand everything.

The cloud is the Shejiná that allows doubt to creep in and allows us to begin to question that which is around us.

Personally, I believe that G-d is much closer when I am in doubt rather than when I am certain about things. I belive that G-d is closer when I ask rather than when I respond. I believe that G-d is much closer when I question rather than when I obey and given this perspective, the practical implications of my faith are evident day after day.

All of us should see our own reality, walk on firm ground and do so barefoot and nude.

Because when we do that, we see the reality of mankind and our interior which lies in contast to the epic anecdotes promoted by Holllywoodd that are disconnected from reality.

We need to re-discover the Shejiná: in the fire of our dreams, in our wants and our passions, and also in the clouds of our perceived psuedo-certainties, even though this realization may challenge our fantasies of omnipotence.

45 years ago, when I had to read the Parashat Pekudéi for my Bar Mitzvah, Arnoldo Rodriguez Pereyra, my Taaméi Hamikrá teacher , a native from the Portuguese community of Amsterdam (who died just a few years ago), taught me that it is customary to change the melody of the last verses of the book of Shemot. And that is what I did.

It reads: “Vaijás heanán et ohel moéd ujvod Adonai malé et hamishkán”

(The cloud covered the meeting teent, and the Glory of G-d filled the sactuary)

Now I understand and value more this tradition, because when get close to G-d, we end up strengthening our souls.

Every time we finish a book of the Torah, we proclaim and pray:

JAZAK JAZAK VENITJAZEK

Strengh! Strength! And We will be Strong!

JAZAK JAZAK VENITJAZEK

For that which is around us and that which is within us.

Translated by Fredjoseph Goldner