"You remember that story about Noah?" asked the dark skinned Hebrew, Yaakov ben Asher, of his buddy Lev.
"Sure, G-d tells him to build a huge ark…lots of wood…lots of strange measurements…hey, wait a second…"
"Exactly my point. This Mishkan we're building…see some parallels?! I hope G-d's not planning another flood, cause I don't think this thing's gonna float!"
The commandments of building the Mishkan (desert temple) came right after the sin with the golden calf, so it's not hard to imagine a concern of being wiped out like the people of Noah's generation. All the complicated measurements and eclectic materials that went into its construction were baffling. Would it really facilitate our relationship with G-d? It was hard to see the point of it all. After its completion, the Torah tells us that "the cloud of G-d would be on the Mishkan by day and the fire of G-d would be on it at night, before the eyes of all the House of Israel in all their journeys." That's one heck of a guide through the desert - a cloud seen on top of the Mishkan. Well, actually, the Torah mentioned earlier that when the tribe journeyed, the cloud lifted away. Thus, Rashi teaches that the cloud only settled upon the Mishkan when it was at rest and we had set up camp. But the verse mentions the cloud as being before them in all their journeys. How could "journeys" really mean "encampments?" They're complete opposites. Apparently, it takes more than a mere contradiction to stop Rashi. Encampments are called journeys here, he claims, "because from the place of the encampment they travelled again." That's the last Rashi in the book of Exodus…quite a doozy. So what is Rashi teaching us? Obviously I'll start my journey tomorrow from where I end it today.
One thing that's clear about our camps in the desert is that we never knew exactly when the cloud would lift away and we would have to pack up and move on towards Israel. Sometimes we'd set up our tents for months, while other times it would be only for a night. That's an extremely tense way to live. There was no way to plan in advance, no way to say for sure what would be the next day. One was constantly confronted with the age-old questions -- "What am I doing here?" "Why are we being put through this ridiculousness?" Okay, great, there's a cloud and a fire leading us, there's no mistaking the direction we're headed. But why? WHY? It's a question we still ask ourselves every day.
Knowing this, it's easier to see how these encampments are really journeys. Rashi was talking about potential. The true essence of a thing, of an idea, of a person, is the potential within it - what it has the power to be. This power exists from the first moment of creation. From birth, our bodies have everything we need to survive in this world of earth, wind, and water. The raw material of the cells we have at birth give rise to new ones and allows for the growth of bone, muscle, and skin. It's all there from the beginning, and, nurtured correctly, a baby can grow until its growth potential is actualized in an adult form. All the more so with our soul.
Back at the burning bush, G-d discloses to Moshe his name "Ehkeeyeh" (I shall be) to Moshe. What kind of a name is that? Isn't G-d infinite? And one aspect of this infinity is the future - what we experience as that which "shall be." For G-d, it's all the same thing. G-d is everywhere at once. What G-d "shall be" coexists with what we can perceive of G-d right now. One limitation of the human condition is our inability to feel what "shall be" as strongly and clearly as "what is." Sure, I often get a vague feeling for what will happen, but I can't know if I was right until after the fact (and even then, I am often the one looking the wrong way when it happens!). We're created in the image of G-d. Anything we learn about G-d is a lesson about ourselves. G-d isn't the only one who can connect what "shall be" with "what is." We do it too - every time we dream, every time we make a sincere promise, every time we have emunah (faith). When we make the leap into the world of "the possible" (regardless of what appears to be the truth in the world of "the reality"), we call upon that G-d-spark within us that has existed since day one. Call it visualization, call it desire -- it's taking a step closer to achieving what we are, to seeing the beauty of that spark that's been there all along - with all its radiant colors, its entrancing song, and its awesome power.
Rashi is telling us that "is" and "will be" are the same thing. Each encampment was bursting with the energy of the next move. We've all heard that "where we are isn't as important as where we're going." Maybe we didn't know what would be, and we were certainly unsure of what was happening at present, but we knew that we were going to Israel, and that gave us strength. May we all have the strength to journey to the places G-d wants to take us and the eyes to see the journey as a destination.