Brokenness at the Core

We have had a busy few weeks. Two weeks ago, we found ourselves at the base of a mountain. Thunder, lightning, shofar blasts, smoke, and a voice that reverberated in each of our hearts. Moses imparted to us the 10 commandments, the word of God. Then, last week, we got more details. Holidays, foundational laws for structuring our community and instructions for living in fellowship and relationship with our neighbors We have had a busy few weeks.

And now, we get into what can seem like biblical technobabble. The instructions shift from “you shall not wrong or oppress a stranger” A moral enjoinder that easily speaks to our time. To “you shall make the planks for the tabernacle of acacia wood…each plank shall be 10 cubits and the width of each plank shall be a cubit and half” Intricate details for the design of the tabernacle, The movable dwelling place for God During the Israelites’ desert wandering. We move from the quality of our character To the quality of the wood, gold, silver, and bronze that we use to create and adorn this holy space in the Israelite camp. I, at least, need a moment when I reach parashat Terumah. I need a moment to recalibrate To move from the easier to access moral code of last week’s parashat Mishpatim. To find the core truths and values in parashat Terumah.

And, it is precisely the core of the Tabernacle where, I want to look with you today.

The things that matter most, we put at the center. A pitcher stands in the center of a baseball diamond. An actress walks downstage center to deliver a powerful monologue. My chai necklace, given to me by my grandparents Rests right above my heart, close to the center of my being. The most precious jewels are held deep in the central core of a bank. And, for the Israelites, in the center of the camp, At the center of the tabernacle, the most precious possessions of the Israelite people are held / in the ark.

The ark is covered with gold and adorned with cherubim. It is held up by poles that are never removed So the ark can be ever-mobile, Ever-able to travel with the Israelite people. Ever at the center.

God instructs Moses: וְנָתַתָּ, אֶל-הָאָרֹן--אֵת, הָעֵדֻת, אֲשֶׁר אֶתֵּן, אֵלֶיךָ (Exodus 25:16) And you shall place in the ark, the “edut” that I will give to you. The word edut means testimony. There is testimony going in the ark, but testimony to what? Let’s hold that question for now. The word edut is also used to describe the tablets Moses brings down form Sinai. So, now a quick bible quiz… how many tablets does Moses bring down from Sinai? (wait) There are 4! Two weeks from now, we will read the story of the golden calf. Here’s a brief review: While Moses is atop Mount Sinai, inscribing God’s words on the tablets, The people are at the base of the mountain…waiting.

Inspired by fear, frustration, or faithlessness They instruct Aaron to build an idol they can worship. Moses descends the mountain, sees the people worshipping the calf And, in rage, smashes the first set of tablets. Two tablets, with the word of God, broken and in shards. Eventually, Moses goes back up to the top of the mountain And returns with a fresh set of tablets. Two tablets, with the word of God, complete and whole. A total of four tablets.

So, which tablets will we keep? What belongs in ארון העדות—the ark of the testimony? Naturally, we will place the complete tablets in the ark. They are the testimony to the completed covenant between us and God.

But what about the shards? What about the broken pieces? They are rough and jagged You might cut your hand if you pick up a sharp edge, You may cringe just looking at them, a startling reminder of a moment we would rather soon forget. But these tablets are also testimony.

The brokenness we felt during our sin at Sinai is just as true as the joy we felt during the triumph of revelation at Sinai.

There is a line of teaching in the Talmud (BT Bava Batra 14b, BT Menahot 99a) that both the shards and the complete tablets were placed in the ark. I’ve spent a number of days struggling with this image. What might it mean for us to carry our own brokenness, and that which we have broken? Why would we sanctify it alongside our most precious and holy objects?

I think we carry the broken tablets, because we have to. Those tablets, too, carry the word of the living God. They may be rough or ugly or uncomfortable, But they are real. And they are holy. To experience brokenness is to be human. And the brokenness we experience stays with us. A muttered insult overheard by a friend, A hurtful deed un-atoned for… The hurtful deed we did atone for, but the scars still remain. Or what about the internal brokenness we might feel? The voices in our heads that drag us down That tell us we aren’t good enough That tell remind us of every imperfection Every mistake. They leave us feeling insufficient, incomplete. These things stay with us. We carry them and they are heavy. A good moment can be fleeting, but It’s those moments when I am not at my best that seem to linger. Even though I would rather soon forget, I carry them with me.

Wouldn’t it be nice if we could just leave the broken pieces of the tablet behind? Wouldn’t it be nice If the broken tablets disappeared under desert sands? Wouldn’t it be nice if we could just forget that rough patch of our relationship with God? It would be nice, But it would not be real.

We may imagine that we are the image of the complete tablets Smooth edges, elegant writing Blemish-free. But reality is messier than that. Reality has rough edges, smudges. And the ark is our reminder That our holiness isn’t compromised if we feel broken. We are still holy even when we are broken.

Seeing the broken pieces in the ark Can give us permission to name our brokenness. If it is holy enough to be held in the ark Surely it is holy enough to be held in the sanctuary And held by our community.

I’m reminded of an incident from this past summer. On Mt. Sinai Hospital’s 9th floor I met a patient who was recovering from a liver transplant. The transplant went well, but he was not getting stronger his recovery had slowed to a near halt and he was losing motivation. In theory, he should have been recovering fine But, he felt estranged from family Far from community, Tired and frustrated with himself. He felt broken. So I sat with him. I witnessed his feeling of brokenness And I held it with him. At the end of our visit we prayed together We said a prayer about his brokenness, (What else can we bless Other than what is real?) And, in doing so, sanctified it. And when I visited the next week He had started to gain strength. He still felt broken, He might have been a broken tablet, But he was still holy. He still had God’s words inscribed on him. And the reminder that he could hold And name his brokenness helped him start to move past it on a journey toward recognizing where he felt whole.

Now, a hospital story feels a bit like cheating The brokenness there is laid out for all to see. What about brokenness that is hidden? So often, the norms of our society tell us To keep our brokenness to ourselves. We only put out into the public sphere What is complementary and complete. And, if we only present our completeness We give the message That we don’t want to see the brokenness of others. Our culture maintains an unspoken agreement That we will hide our broken stuff.

So, where do we go with our broken stuff? What’s the place we go, regardless of where we land on the scale between broken and complete, to be reminded that we are holy? We go back to our ark. We come to our tabernacle, our sanctuary. Our holy space is built to hold that which is complete and that which is broken. It’s built for weddings, And it’s built for funerals. It is built to celebrate our successes, And it is built to support us when we falter. Like the ark, it is carefully crafted Before a single tablet is hewn To hold and treat with care both broken and complete. Ready to receive whatever is placed inside.

Our broken tablets come with us. We carry them and they are heavy. They live at the very center of our camp. And even those shards and jagged edges Contain the words of the living God. And we are reminded that even when we are broken, We are holy.