My identity crisis

Rabbi Pini Hecht

Assistant Rabbi Marais Road Shul 

Is the real me the one who is sensitive to the needs of others, committed to sharing and uplifting? Or is the real me the one who turns a blind eye to the collector supporting a worthy cause?

Am I the one whose sole aim in life is to ensure that I’ve put enough away for a luxurious retirement? Or the one who is driven to invest in things of the spirit that money cannot buy?

The dichotomies of life are such that we often find that the directions we are pulled in are diametrically opposed. At one moment I’m soaring with inspiration, reaching for all that is holy and true and the next moment I’m consumed with the desire for some immediate gratification. The results are confusing and frustrating and at times we become anxious and depressed. If I am – as we all tend to think – a good person, why am I drawn to such selfishness? And how do I reconcile the tension in order to remain upbeat and joyful?

Parshat Teruma relates the instruction from Hashem to build the Mishkan – a home for the Divine that would be placed at the centre of the Jewish encampment in the dessert. Now beyond the physical structure, the Mishkan and its holy vessels, serve as a paradigm for individuals to reach our own idyllic state and produce a place for Hashem to rest within.

The holiest of all the vessel in the Mishkan was the Ark in which the Luchot, the tablets of the covenant, were housed. The details of its construction are outlined in the Torah. We learn that it consisted of three boxes: an inner golden box, a middle wooden box and an outer golden box. In effect, the bulk of its construction was wooden but on the inside and from without it was gold.

While gold and wood may complement each other, these two materials differ quite drastically. Gold is beautiful and shines; it is also one of the most resistant metals. It won’t tarnish, discolour or crumble. Wood on the other hand, although it too can be made beautiful, is prone to rot and decay.

The mystical teachings of Torah see in this construction a parallel to three layers of the human being. At the core each of us has a pure golden neshama, a soul that shines and never decays, one that remains singularly dedicated and connected to its Divine source.

On a conscious level, though, we all experience vacillation, swinging to the possibility of wooden crumble and decay; at times we are distracted by selfish thoughts, tempted by inappropriate desires and negative emotions.

And then there is our outer layer, our conscious expression in thought and speech and our behaviour and actions.

The message we are to learn from studying this holy vessel is that despite what we may be drawn to or tempted by, we ought to remember that at our core we are pure and golden. When I remember to identify the real me with that core, then I am strengthened and motivated to ensure my outside matches my inside that my every conscious thought speech and deed is golden and shines.