Friday, February 20, 2026/4 Adar, 5786

Friday, February 20, 2026/4 Adar, 5786

Parashat Teruma Exodus 25:1-27:19

Haftarah 1 Kings 5:26-6:13

Dear TBE Community,

Teruma and Tetzaveh—two parashiot that are never combined, though they seem to want to belong together. Teruma, where God imagines the bringing of gifts to build the Mishkan, with the famous verse: “Let them make Me a sanctuary that I may dwell among them.” And Tetzaveh, in which God details the role and the garments of the High Priest who will officiate in that desert sanctuary and later in the Temple.

These two portions interrupt the narrative of the giving of the Torah: the story of Sinai and the Ten Commandments, of Moses going up (again) to the mountaintop, while the Israelites grow antsy, lose patience and faith, and turn to Aaron to build them a Golden Calf, as recorded in Ki Tissa, which we will read two weeks from now.

I have written before about the surreal aspects of Torah—its dreamlike landscapes, its visceral emotions and longings turned into narrative, into images. One of Torah’s characteristics is its nebulous, almost phantasmagorical dissolution of chronology. Some attribute this to the realities of an editing process stretched over centuries, to redundancies or overlapping folk memories. Others see in it something more theological: Torah stands above and beyond our human insistence on linear time. There is no strict before and after. Conceptual matters outweigh chronology.

In the case of Teruma, the question feels particularly urgent, because the disruption of the timeline concerns the building of the Mishkan, the dwelling place of the Divine Presence. There is a famous debate between two great commentators, Rashi and Ramban. Ramban, who often disagrees with Rashi, does so here as well. He is not persuaded by the idea that there is no before and after in Torah. Despite his mystical bent, he can be remarkably matter-of-fact, even a stickler for chronology. For Ramban, it was always God’s intention that a Mishkan be built, with an ark to house the commandments that God has just finished inscribing and is ready to send down with Moses, in the first set of tablets: God always envisioned a sanctuary.

Rashi, by contrast, suggests that these parashiot hint at the fact that the instructions for building the Mishkan were given after the episode of the Golden Calf—perhaps to prevent future such incidents, or to ensure that the people would never again feel abandoned, as they might have during Moses’ forty days and nights on the mountain. In Rashi’s reading, the Mishkan is envisioned in hindsight.

This is not merely a technical disagreement; it reflects a significant theological difference.

“Tell the Israelite people to bring Me gifts; you shall accept gifts for Me from every person whose heart is so moved (…) gold, silver, and copper; blue, purple, and crimson yarns, fine linen, goats’ hair; tanned ram skins, dolphin skins, and acacia wood; oil for lighting, spices for the anointing oil and for the aromatic incense; lapis lazuli and other stones for setting (… )And let them make Me a sanctuary that I may dwell among them.” (Exodus 25:2–8)

The irony is striking. What God imagines in this suspended moment atop the mountain — people bringing precious stones to build a sacred space — is precisely what will happen in Ki Tissa: the people bringing gold to Aaron, who casts it into a figure of a calf.

Did God know that the people would be willing, perhaps even eager to contribute, to build something tangible through which they could feel close to the Divine? And does that possibility make the Mishkan more essential than in Rashi’s view, where it appears almost as a concession, a compromise after God accepts that the people cannot do without a visible, physical place for their devotion?

In any case, these passages in which God imagines the sanctuary – and its clergy – create a kind of vacuum in the narrative; a pause, a suspension of time. They underline the lofty aspirations, the ethereal yet deeply human emotions with which we relate to sacred spaces and to the very human beings who serve within it.

At the same time, they suggest something enduring: that a sanctuary, and the sacred duties fulfilled within it, are not bound to a single moment on a timeline. They exist before or after failure, before or after revelation or exegesis. We can enter them in anticipation or in repair. The Divine Presence can always dwell among us.

Shabbat Shalom!
Rabbi Julia Knobloch

More Torah Tidbits

Hadas Cootware

Torah School Coordinator

Hadas Cootware has been teaching Hebrew and Jewish Studies for over a decade, joining our Temple Beth El Community in 2018. Born and raised in Israel with Hebrew as her native language, she previously served as a combat soldier and operations officer in the IDF. Drawing on her studies in acting and psychology, she published a children’s book in Hebrew, The Marshmallow Story, which focuses on delayed gratification. Outside of teaching, she is the proud mother of her son, Henry, and loves to travel.

TBEtorahschool@bethelsp.org

Ilan Davidson

Cantor

Cantor Ilan Davidson has been pleasing audiences with his singing since before he could read. At age five, he began singing with his Cantor, Philip Moddel, and hasn’t shut up since. At ten, he made his Operatic debut with the Fullerton Civic Light Opera’s production of Bizet’s Carmen, as a street urchin. Since then, he has performed roles in opera and musical theatre, performing, directing, and producing world-class productions.

Among his many accomplishments, Cantor Davidson is also known as a contemporary Jewish songwriter and performer, having delighted audiences all over the world, including Israel and Lithuania with the soulful sounds of his music. His recordings, Stained Glass (1995) and In A Hanukkah Mood (2007) are collections of original and covered songs by himself and many contemporary Jewish artists. His most recent recording, God Is In This Place (2020), is a collection of original liturgical pieces for the Friday night Shabbat Service, commissioned and written in honor of his 25th Anniversary as the Cantor of Temple Beth El.

Cantor Davidson left the stage and in 1995 joined the Temple Beth El family, in San Pedro, where, in his nearly 30 years of service, he has brought many new programs and much enthusiasm to all he does. Coming from a long line of Cantors, it must have been Besheret for Cantor Davidson, although talented in all areas of musical performance, to finally settle down into his career as Hazzan for Temple Beth El in San Pedro, California. In 2007, Cantor Davidson founded a new foundation, KindredSPIRITS, producing an annual world humanitarian aid event. KindredSPIRITS premiered on June 5, 2008 at Walt Disney Concert Hall, adding that prestigious concert hall to the ever growing list of venues around the world, where Davidson has performed. During the 10 years of humanitarian events, Global KindredSPIRITS, Inc., as an official 501©3, raised awareness and close to $500,000 for its beneficiaries over the decade.
As a past president of the South Coast Interfaith Council, Ilan fought for tolerance and understanding of ALL faiths in a difficult climate. For the past 7 years, Cantor Davidson has been service as an LA County Commissioner, representing the 4th District on the Human Relations Commission, where he currently serves as President. Whether it is raising his voice for justice, Hazzanut, Pop, Opera, Musical Theatre, or folk music, Cantor Ilan Davidson shares his soul and genuine love in every note.

When asked about his finest accomplishment, Cantor Ilan invariably responds, “After all the great concerts, services, and roles, my finest role in life is that of husband to my beautiful wife, Jodi, and daddy to my gorgeous daughters, Jordan and Zoe.”

cantor@bethelsp.org

Office: (310) 833-2467 Ext. 106

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