The ancient rabbis wrestled with this very question, using stories to illuminate the heart of our relationship with God. One such story, found in Shemot Rabbah, a collection of rabbinic interpretations on the Book of Exodus, uses the analogy of a king and his son.
Imagine a king, immensely proud of his son, entrusting him with all his possessions, everything he owns. But the son, feeling a void, approaches his father. “If you truly love me,” he says, “if you want everyone to know the depth of your affection, you must give me your throne.” It's a bold request, isn't it? The throne isn’t just property; it’s a symbol of authority, of power itself. The son believes that only by receiving the very seat of power will everyone truly understand the king's love.
This parable, the rabbis suggest, mirrors the relationship between God and Abraham. God, in his infinite generosity, had already bestowed upon Abraham the world, as Genesis 18:17 hints: “And the Lord said: Will I conceal [something] from Abraham?” God shared his plans, his very thoughts, with Abraham. He gave him dominion. But even with the world in his grasp, Abraham yearned for something more specific, something that would serve as the ultimate testament to God's love.
Abraham, in this interpretation, essentially says to God: "If you haven't given me the Temple, that sacred space of 500 cubits by 500 cubits, You haven't truly given me anything.” The Beit Hamikdash, the Temple in Jerusalem, was more than just a building; it was the focal point of connection between the earthly and the divine. It was where sacrifices were offered, prayers ascended, and God's presence was most keenly felt.
And here’s the amazing part: God grants Abraham’s request! The text connects this to Genesis 48:22, where God says: “And I have given you one portion more than your brothers.” This "one portion" is interpreted as referring to the Temple Mount. Abraham, upon hearing this divine promise, is overcome with joy. His response? “God spoke in His holiness, I exulted!” (Psalms 60:8).
But what does it all mean? Is it about greed? About always wanting more? I don’t think so. It’s about the nature of intimacy and relationship. Abraham's request for the Temple isn't about material possession, but about solidifying the bond with the divine. It’s about needing a tangible, sacred space to express and deepen that connection. The story suggests that true love involves a willingness to share not just possessions, but also the very essence of one’s being, one's sacred space.
Ultimately, this passage in Shemot Rabbah invites us to reflect on our own relationship with the divine. What is our "Temple"? What do we need to feel truly connected, truly loved? And are we brave enough to ask for it? Maybe the answer lies not in the asking, but in understanding the depth of love already given.