I recently presented the Kitzur Shulchan Aruch (abridged version of the Code of Jewish Law) as a gift to a Bar Mitzvah boy, explaining that this was the most important book for a Jew. If you are stuck on an island and need one book that will guide 98% of your religious Jewish life, the Five Books of Moses will not be very helpful. You need the “Code” to explain how it all applies in real life.
Nevertheless, the Five Books of Moses are the anchor of our lives and the text we deal with on a constant basis. Not only do we read the weekly parsha on Shabbat during synagogue services, the entire week is defined by the parsha. For example: “The sixth day of parshat Teruma” is a legitimate description of today’s date in traditional Jewish circles.
It follows that the content of every verse in the Torah contains relevant meaning to us here and now.
For the next five weeks we learn of G-d’s instruction to construct a Temple and how the Israelites fulfilled this divine wish. “Make a sanctuary for Me (G-d) and I will dwell in their midst (Exodus 25:8).”
Although this temporary structure, known as the mishkan, served as a divine dwelling for many years, it was not the ultimate realization of the command to construct a sanctuary. Certainly the main elements of the mishkan were later incorporated in the Beit Hamikdash (Holy Temple) in Jerusalem, but the wooden beams and beautiful tapestries were rendered obsolete.
Why then does the Torah devote hundreds of verses to describe the mishkan down to the beams and tapestries in such intricate detail? Because the temporary mishkan makes the whole idea of a Beit Hamikdash relevant in every time and every place.
The Beit Hamikdash represents the fact that G-dliness becomes a revealed part of our material lives. Just as a physical edifice becomes a dwelling for the Al-mighty, our personal lives can and must become reflections of a divine purpose.
Had the concept of a divine dwelling debuted in the holiest spot on earth - in Jerusalem - then our personal divinity would only be possible once we achieved personal spiritual perfection. But most of us are imperfect.
This is why the mishkan was constructed in a desolate wilderness. This is why the divine dwelling debuted in a space devoid of nourishment and rife with dangerous snakes and scorpions. To prove that even if one feels spiritually lifeless, with a shameful history filled with proverbial skeletons, he or she is capable and obligated to begin the task of creating a divine space within.
ב"ה