Specifically, the altar.
According to Legends of the Jews, when God instructed Moses to build the altar from shittim wood (that's acacia wood) and overlay it with brass, Moses had a very practical question. "Lord of the world," he asks, "You want me to make an altar of wood covered in brass, and keep a fire burning on it continually? Won’t the fire melt the brass, and then devour the wood?" It's a fair point, right? Fire and wood don't exactly have a harmonious relationship.
But God's answer… well, it's classic God. He essentially says, "Moses, you're thinking like a human. My rules are different."
He points out the angels that are "of burning flame," existing alongside "store-houses of snow and hail." Does the water extinguish the fire? No. Does the fire evaporate the water? No. Then there are the Hayyot, fiery beings with a "sea of ice" above them so vast it would take five hundred years to cross! Again, fire and ice coexisting. "I am the Lord who maketh peace between these elements in My high places," God declares.
Think about that for a moment. The sheer power implied in holding such opposing forces in balance.
God continues, a little incredulous. You, Moses, the one who pierced the "fiery chambers of heaven," who walked among the "fiery hosts," who even approached Me, "a consuming fire" – and you worry about a little brass and wood?
You, who should have been incinerated but were protected by My command?
The implication is clear: Moses' experience itself should have taught him that God operates outside the normal rules. Because he entered the fire at God’s command, he was unharmed. And so, God promises, the brass on the altar, "even though it be no thicker than a denarium" (a small Roman coin), won't be harmed by the fire.
Dead things come before Me, and leave Me imbued with life, and thou are afraid the wood of the altar might be consumed!
What does this tell us? Perhaps it’s a reminder that the divine operates on a different plane than our everyday understanding. That perceived impossibilities are simply challenges to our limited perspective. Maybe it’s an invitation to trust in something bigger than ourselves, even when the logic doesn't quite add up. After all, if God can keep fire and ice in balance, maybe, just maybe, He can handle a little fire and wood.