It wasn't like they could just pop down to Home Depot. The Torah tells us about the intricate details of the Tabernacle, but sometimes leaves us wondering about the logistics. Well, the legends fill in some fascinating gaps!
According to the Legends of the Jews, compiled by Rabbi Louis Ginzberg, the materials used were anything but ordinary. Take the animal hides, for example. Forget your run-of-the-mill sheepskin. We’re talking about a creature called the Tahash. Now, this wasn't your average desert critter. God created the Tahash specifically for the Tabernacle! And get this: it was so HUGE that a single hide could be used to make a curtain thirty cubits long! That’s some serious animal. But here's the kicker: as soon as the Tabernacle had all the hides it needed, the Tahash vanished. Poof! Gone. A one-time-only creature for a one-time-only purpose.
And what about the cedar wood? I mean, hello? Desert? Cedars? Doesn't exactly compute, does it? Well, this is where the story gets even more interesting, taking us back to our ancestor Jacob. The Midrash, specifically Midrash Rabbah, is full of such stories.
When Jacob went down to Egypt, he wasn't just thinking about survival; he was thinking generations ahead. Knowing, perhaps prophetically, that his descendants would one day be freed and asked to build a sanctuary, he planted a cedar grove. He told his sons to do the same, instructing them, "You will in the future be released from bondage in Egypt, and God will then demand that you erect Him a sanctuary to thank Him for having delivered you. Plant cedar trees, then, that when God will bid you build Him a sanctuary, you may have in your possession the cedars required for its construction." Pretty amazing foresight, right?
So, when the Israelites left Egypt, they didn't just pack matzah and bitter herbs. They also brought along cedar trees, grown from saplings planted by Jacob and his sons, waiting for their destined purpose. Among these cedars was a particularly special one, destined to become "the middle bar in the midst of the boards, that reached from end to end." Jacob himself had brought this cedar with him from Palestine when he first emigrated to Egypt, and then left it for his descendants.
Imagine the scene: The time comes to select the wood for the Mishkan. As the chosen cedars are lifted and prepared, they burst into song, praising God for the honor of being part of this sacred project. A beautiful image, isn't it? Wood singing praises! It really brings home the idea that everything in creation, even seemingly inanimate objects, can participate in praising the Divine.
So, the next time you read about the Tabernacle, remember the Tahash and the singing cedars. Remember Jacob's foresight and the dedication of generations. It’s a reminder that even in the most barren of landscapes, with enough faith, planning, and perhaps a little Divine intervention, we can create something truly sacred and lasting. It makes you wonder, doesn't it? What are we planting today that will blossom into something extraordinary for future generations?