The Mishkan: Where Heaven, Torah, and Love Converge

This week's Torah reading does more than just lay out a blueprint for the building of a focal point for God's relationship with His people. It establishes the ground rules for an enduring relationship based on three key principles. Our member Rabbi Paul Bloom explains:

With just a few opening words, the Torah introduces us to an entirely new era in the life of Klal Yisrael:

וְעָשׂוּ לִי מִקְדָּשׁ וְשָׁכַנְתִּי בְּתוֹכָם

“They shall make for Me a Sanctuary, and I will dwell among them” (שמות כה:ח).

After Yetziat Mitzrayim, Kriat Yam Suf, Ma’amad Har Sinai, and the thunderous revelation of the Aseret HaDibrot, one might have imagined that the spiritual climax had already occurred. Heaven had descended to earth. The Jewish people had heard the direct word of Hashem. Yet the Torah now calls them to something even more demanding: a collective project — the building of the Mishkan.

This was not an architectural endeavor. It was not merely craftsmanship. It was the creation of a sacred center that would channel Divine Presence into the physical world. If Har Sinai was a moment of revelation from above, the Mishkan was a mission of sanctification from below.

Betzalel: Building a Microcosm of Creation

The Torah describes the appointment of Betzalel in extraordinary terms:

וָאֲמַלֵּא אֹתוֹ רוּחַ אֱלֹקִים בְּחָכְמָה בִּתְבוּנָה וּבְדַעַת

“I have filled him with the spirit of God, with wisdom, understanding, and knowledge” (שמות לא:ג).

Chazal explain (ברכות נה) that Betzalel possessed a profound, almost mystical understanding. Just as Hashem created heaven and earth through the letters of the aleph-bet, so too Betzalel understood the spiritual correspondences embedded in every component of the Mishkan. Rashi notes that da’at here refers to ruach hakodesh — divine inspiration.The world itself was created as a physical universe. The Mishkan was constructed to introduce kedushah — sanctity — into that universe. Every beam, every socket, every vessel mirrored some aspect of creation. The Mishkan was, in a sense, a repaired and sanctified cosmos. From that point forward, Jewish history would revolve around this sacred center.

At the Heart: The Aron and Its Mystery

At the epicenter of the Mishkan stood the Aron HaKodesh — a sealed ark of acacia wood overlaid with gold, containing the Luchot HaBrit. It was hidden, inaccessible, entered only by the Kohen Gadol once a year on Yom Kippur. And yet it was the silent generator of holiness for the entire Mishkan.

On top of the Aron rested the Kaporet — the golden cover — and upon it stood two Keruvim:

וְעָשִׂיתָ שְׁנַיִם כְּרוּבִים זָהָב… וְהָיוּ הַכְּרוּבִים פֹּרְשֵׂי כְנָפַיִם לְמַעְלָה… וּפְנֵיהֶם אִישׁ אֶל־אָחִיו

“You shall make two cherubim of gold… The cherubim shall spread their wings upward… and their faces shall be toward one another” (שמות כה:יח–כ).

Their wings reached upward toward Heaven. Their faces turned toward one another.
Their gaze inclined downward toward the Luchot beneath them. What do these mysterious figures mean?

A Suspension of the Ordinary

The Keruvim pose an immediate halachic question. The Second Commandment prohibits graven images:

לֹא תַעֲשֶׂה לְךָ פֶסֶל…

“You shall not make for yourself a sculptured image…” (שמות כ:ד).

Yet here the Torah commands sculpted human forms. The Chizkuni explains that the Mishkan and later the Beit HaMikdash operated in an otherworldly dimension. Within its walls, certain prohibitions were suspended in service of a higher sanctity. Melachot normally forbidden on Shabbat — slaughtering, burning, baking, lighting fire — were performed daily in the Temple service. The prohibition of sha’atnez was suspended in the priestly garments, which combined wool and linen. So too, the prohibition against sculpted forms was suspended for the Keruvim.

Entering the Mishkan meant stepping into a different plane — a realm where the Divine order superseded the ordinary structure of law. It was Heaven touching earth.

The Two Halves of Torah

Rav Samson Raphael Hirsch offers a powerful interpretation. Why two Keruvim? They represent the two great categories of mitzvot:

●      Bein Adam LaMakom — between man and God.

●      Bein Adam LaChaveiro — between man and fellow man.

One Keruv symbolizes our vertical relationship: Shabbat, tefillin, tzitzit — the mitzvot that anchor us in awareness of Hashem. The other symbolizes our horizontal relationship: kindness, justice, compassion — the mitzvot that build society.

Their faces turned toward one another — panim el panim — teach that these two dimensions must work in harmony. Spiritual devotion without ethical sensitivity is incomplete. Social ethics without reverence for Hashem is rootless. The Torah’s sanctity depends on their integration.

Torah Shebichtav and Torah Shebe’al Peh

A Midrashic teaching (Pirkei deRabbi Eliezer) offers another layer. The Luchot inside the Aron represent Torah Shebichtav — the immutable written Torah. But the Keruvim, facing one another, symbolize something dynamic: two scholars engaged in Torah dialogue — shnayim shenosnim v’nosnim b’divrei Torah. The written Torah is eternal truth — Torat emet. But Torah also lives in discussion, analysis, application, and debate — Torah Shebe’al Peh.

When we recite the blessing after an aliyah, we say:

וְנָתַן לָנוּ תּוֹרַת אֱמֶת וְחַיֵּי עוֹלָם נָטַע בְּתוֹכֵנוּ

“He has given us a Torah of truth and planted eternal life within us.”

The eternal truth lies in the Luchot; the “eternal life within us” lies in the living transmission of Torah. The Keruvim embody that vitality — Torah not as static text, but as vibrant, generational engagement.

The Language of Love

A third interpretation, drawn from the teachings of the Baal Shem Tov and his disciples, sees the Keruvim as symbols of love. Chazal describe them as youthful figures, at times like a boy and a girl, facing each other with affection. Their image evokes Shir HaShirim — the love between husband and wife — which Chazal understand as a metaphor for the love between Hashem and Israel.

The Baal Shem Tov summarized his mission in three loves:

1. Ahavat Hashem — love of God.
2. Ahavat Yisrael — love of fellow Jews.
3. Ahavat Torah — love of Torah.

The Keruvim capture all three:

●      Their wings stretched upward — Ahavat Hashem.

●      Their faces toward one another — Ahavat Yisrael.

●      Their gaze downward toward the Luchot — Ahavat Torah.

Love is not peripheral to the Mishkan. It is its core.

The Voice Between the Keruvim

Most striking of all is where the Divine voice emerged:

וְנוֹעַדְתִּי לְךָ שָׁם… וְדִבַּרְתִּי אִתְּךָ מֵעַל הַכַּפֹּרֶת מִבֵּין שְׁנֵי הַכְּרוּבִים

“There I will meet with you… and I will speak with you from above the Kaporet, from between the two Keruvim” (שמות כה:כב).

The word of Hashem came from the space between them.

Not from the Luchot alone, not from Heaven alone, but from the space between love of God, love of Torah, and love of one another. That is where revelation continues.

A New Beginning

The building of the Mishkan marked a new chapter in Jewish destiny. Sinai was an overwhelming moment of Divine initiative. The Mishkan was an enduring structure of human participation. Klal Yisrael was called upon not merely to witness holiness, but to build it — to create a space in the physical world where sanctity, truth, and love converge.

At the heart of that sacred space stood two figures facing one another.

The message is timeless.

Torah must be held firmly. Love must flow generously. Heaven must be reached for. And the Divine voice emerges when these elements meet.

May we learn to recreate that inner Mishkan — where Ahavat Hashem, Ahavat Yisrael, and Ahavat Torah stand face to face — and may the voice that once spoke between the Keruvim continue to guide Klal Yisrael forward.