Jewish tradition certainly thinks so, and it gives us some pretty compelling stories to illustrate this point.

Think about the building of the Mishkan, the Tabernacle, that portable sanctuary that accompanied the Israelites through the desert after the Exodus. We often hear about Bezalel, the master craftsman, a Judean, practically synonymous with artistic skill and devotion. He was the main architect and artisan, a true visionary.

But did you know that he wasn't alone? Working right alongside him was Oholiab, a member of the tribe of Dan. Now, Dan wasn't exactly considered one of the "big name" tribes. But here's the beautiful thing: according to the tradition, Oholiab's presence was absolutely vital. Why? To demonstrate that, "before God, the great and the lowly are equal." As Ginzberg retells in Legends of the Jews, the collaboration between Bezalel and Oholiab highlights the idea that everyone's contribution matters, regardless of their background or perceived status.

And it doesn't stop there. The tradition sees echoes of this partnership in the construction of the Temple in Jerusalem, centuries later. King Solomon, from the tribe of Judah, a direct descendant of David, commanded the building of this permanent, glorious house for God. But who did he enlist to help him? Hiram, a Danite artisan. Again, we see this beautiful balance, this emphasis on the equal importance of all people.

It makes you think, doesn't it?

But here’s another fascinating detail: the people weren't the only ones elevated by this sacred work. The Zohar, that foundational text of Kabbalah, tells us that the head-workers of the Tabernacle were filled with the ruach hakodesh – the holy spirit – to ensure the project's success. But it didn’t stop there! According to Legends of the Jews, even those who assisted in the construction, even "the beasts that were employed on this occasion possessed wisdom, insight, and understanding."

Imagine that for a moment. Every single being involved, from the most skilled artisan to the lowliest animal pulling a cart, was imbued with a special kind of awareness, a divine spark.

What does this all mean? Perhaps it’s a reminder that holiness isn't confined to the obviously sacred spaces or the traditionally important people. It can permeate everything, everyone, if we allow it. It’s a powerful message about the inherent dignity and potential within each of us, and the interconnectedness of all things. So, the next time you feel insignificant, remember Oholiab, remember the animals helping build the Tabernacle. Remember that your contribution, no matter how small it may seem, matters deeply.