Let's dive into one of those metaphors, found in Bamidbar Rabbah, a collection of rabbinic teachings on the Book of Numbers.

We begin with a beautiful verse from Numbers (24:5): "How goodly are your tents, Jacob, your dwellings [mishkenotekha], Israel!" On the surface, it's a simple expression of admiration for the Israelites' encampment. But the rabbis, masters of interpretation, saw something deeper.

Bamidbar Rabbah asks us to not read "mishkenotekha" (your dwellings), but rather "mashkenotekha Israel" – as in, mortgaged by Israel. Wait, what? Mortgaged? Yes, you heard that right. The text suggests that the mishkan, the Tabernacle, and later the Temple in Jerusalem, were essentially put up as collateral by the people of Israel. A cosmic pawn, if you will.

The idea is that if the Israelites didn't fulfill their obligations to God, these sacred spaces could be “taken away.” It's a pretty radical concept, isn't it? To think that these holy places, so central to Jewish identity and worship, were conditional gifts.

Where does this idea come from? Well, the midrash, the interpretive tradition, often connects seemingly disparate verses to reveal hidden meanings. In this case, Bamidbar Rabbah links the Tabernacle to Psalm 78:60: “He abandoned the Tabernacle at Shilo; the tent He pitched [shiken] among men [adam]." The connection is made through the word "shiken" (pitched), echoing the idea of God dwelling among humanity, adam. But the verse also speaks of abandonment, hinting at the possibility of loss.

And who are these "men" among whom God dwells? According to Ezekiel 34:31, "The sheep of My pasture, you are adam." So, we, the people of Israel, are the adam who can "mortgage" the Tabernacle.

What about the Temple? The text turns to Lamentations 4:11: "He poured out His enflamed wrath. He kindled a fire in Zion." A verse of destruction and loss. This is then connected to Nehemiah 1:7: "We have done injury to You [ḥavol ḥavalnu]." The link here is the word "ḥavol," which means "injury" but also echoes the idea of taking something as collateral, as we see in Exodus 22:25: "If you take your neighbor's garment as collateral [ḥavol taḥbol]…"

It's a chain of associations, each verse illuminating the other, building a powerful image of a conditional covenant.

The Bamidbar Rabbah concludes with a statement attributed to God, spoken to Moses: Tell the Israelites to build Me a mishkan, a dwelling place, but know that if they sin, it will be mortgaged by them. A constant reminder of the responsibility that comes with divine favor.

So, what are we to make of this? Is it a harsh judgment? A threat? Perhaps it's a reminder that our relationship with the Divine is not a passive one. It requires active participation, a commitment to living ethically and morally. The Tabernacle and the Temple weren't just buildings; they were symbols of a covenant, a promise. And like any promise, it requires upkeep, nurturing, and responsibility. Maybe the cosmic mortgage isn't so much a threat as it is an invitation to be mindful, to be present, and to appreciate the preciousness of the gifts we've been given.