Transposition and Tabernacle

“More like the real thing.” 

 (Lord Digory, The Last Battle)

Almost two years ago the world shut down, a week before my younger son’s bar-mitzvah. A lot has happened during that time, and though my son has been nothing but gracious, accepting and understanding, my wife and I are still trying to commemorate the momentous occasion that God, in his goodness, has granted us. The latest of these attempts has been this past Shabbos where our son again read (part of) his bar-mitzvah portion (he’ll read the rest this Shabbos), this time actually inside the synagogue (as opposed to outside in the freezing cold as he did last year).

In this post I would like to share the (relevant parts of the) talk that I was to give at my son’s bar-mitzvah, parts of which I’ve already given in our synagogue. As context, the weekly Torah portions for this past Shabbos described how the Jews built the Tabernacle in the desert.

“And make for Me a sanctuary and I will dwell among them.” (Exodus 25:8)

How can finite man build a sanctuary for the infinite God? What engineering or architectural schemes can be used for such a structure? What materials and designs are geared towards this purpose?

Of course, the Torah itself goes into great detail answering these questions, providing careful, exquisite detail of all aspects of the Tabernacle and its vessels. However, though the Torah is long on detail, it provides nothing in the way of explanation as to why the specific designs or vessels or materials are appropriate in providing a structure for God.

Biblical commentaries throughout the ages attempt to solve this riddle. Here I would like to expand on the approach of R’ Naftali Tzvi Yehudah Berlin (Ha'amek Davar, Exodus 25:8), the famed head of the Yeshiva in Volozhin known as the Netziv. He explains that “All details of the Tabernacle are parallel to the details of the world that the Creator, may He be blessed, fashioned. God dwells in the world as a whole and He commanded that the Jews make a microcosm of the entire world in the Tabernacle and its vessels.”

This remark requires some analysis.

From one perspective the Netziv’s approach answers our above question. How can finite man build a home for the Infinite? By copying the design of a place where God is known to reside. We know that God resides in our world. Hence, if we build our Tabernacle to reflect our world, we can trust that God will inhabit the Tabernacle as well.

From another perspective, however, the explanation of the Netziv is questionable. What point is there in simply copying the world which we are already familiar with? Will one who sojourns to the Tabernacle be inspired simply by seeing a model of what he or she already knows? If God already resides in the world, what point is there in building a Tabernacle to reflect the world?

In The Last Battle the Narnian heroes enter nirvana, the afterlife, the World to Come and they are quite surprised by what they see:

“Those hills," said Lucy, "the nice woody ones and the blue ones behind - aren't they very like the Southern border of Narnia?"

"Like!" cried Edmund after a moment's silence. "Why, they're exactly like. Look, there's Mount Pire with his forked head, and there's the pass into Archenland and everything!"

"And yet they're not like," said Lucy. "They're different. They have more colours on them and they look further away than I remembered and they're more .. . more . . . oh, I don't know..."

"More like the real thing," said the Lord Digory softly.

The Lord Digory goes on to explain that the Narnia the children knew and loved “was only a shadow or a copy of the real Narnia”:

All of the old Narnia that mattered, all the dear creatures, have been drawn into the real Narnia through the Door. And of course it is different; as different as a real thing is from a shadow or as waking life is from a dream.

This description of the real Narnia and its relationship to the old Narnia is a parable for Lewis’ concept of “Transposition.” In his aptly entitled essay, Lewis explains that transposition occurs when a richer system is to be represented by a poorer system, for example when we try to draw a three-dimensional scene on a two-dimensional piece of paper. We can try to give a feeling of the third dimension by drawing in an appropriate fashion. However, a being who has never experienced a third-dimension could never comprehend what the drawing is meant to represent.

So too with the real Narnia. The Narnia of the Chronicles was merely a shadow-world, an attempt at representing the true Narnia in two-dimensions or as mere shadows. In the true Narnia where every stone has meaning, and every blade of grass reflects the handiwork of God and no good is ever lost.

One can understand the purpose of the Tabernacle in a similar way.

When the Jews built the Tabernacle their goal was not to build a model of our world, rather they built the true world, the world as it is meant to be. One who visits the Tabernacle will experience this true world: they will see how each element and detail of the true world reflects the will of God. They will come to understand how those elements fit together in the service of God. They will see angels marking the path, and they will see that word of God comes forth calling out to man. Our world is the shadow-world, the dream, the attempt to take the real world and draw it on a piece of paper.

Furthermore, the Tabernacle is not the end of days. One reaches the true Narnia only after death, but one visits the Tabernacle and returns to the shadow-world. To what end?

The Tabernacle imbues the visitor with understanding and insight. After seeing the real world, the shadow-world makes sense. The parts of our world may be more clouded and less vibrant, but they still reflect the one God. The angels of God are still here but enveloped in mist, and the word of God still rings forth, but muted and more difficult to hear.

One visits the Tabernacle in hopes of a rendezvous with God. One returns from the visit with the realization that God was really here, in our world, the whole time.

The destruction of the Tabernacle and, later, the Temple, leaves us without means to experience the true world. Nevertheless, we can attempt to recreate that experience by studying the Tabernacles blueprints and learning the ritual that surrounds it. More importantly, we can work towards constantly making our world a better reflection of the true world. This is the mission of the Jewish People, a mission every Jew takes part in when they reach majority: “to perfect the world under the sovereignty of God,” to transform the world we inhabit into the world of the Tabernacle.