Boards, bars, meticulously woven fabrics… everything perfect in its own right. But when it came to assembling it all? Nothing. They were stumped.
Shemot Rabbah 52 vividly paints this scene. All these experts come to Moses, their heads bowed, presenting their beautifully made components. “Here are the boards, here are the bars,” they say, perhaps a little dejected. They'd done their part, but the Mishkan remained stubbornly unassembled. It reminds me of the verse in Proverbs 31:29, “Many daughters have performed valiantly, but you have surpassed [alit] them all,” which the text uses as a parallel to Moses being the most excellent [meuleh] of them all. They made it, but he was the only one who could put it together.
And then, something remarkable happens. As Moses gazes upon their work, the Shekhinah, the Divine Presence, descends upon him. The text doesn't say Moses single-handedly erected the Mishkan. No, it says that miracles were performed. Exodus 40:17 tells us, "The Tabernacle was erected" – not "they erected the Tabernacle," but simply, “it was erected.” The Mishkan, in a sense, stood up on its own.
Now, if that sounds a bit far-fetched, consider Solomon’s Temple. Rav Huna, citing Rabbi Yosei, tells us that when Solomon built the House of God, everything – even angels and spirits! – assisted him (based on Matnot Kehuna's translation). I Kings 6:7 states: “The House, in its construction, was built of whole stones that were transported; hammers, the axe, or any iron tools were not heard in the House in its construction.” It practically built itself! The Hebrew term behibanoto, translated as "in its construction," can even be read as "as it built itself" (as noted in a textual analysis).
Just as the Temple was erected with miraculous assistance, so too was the Mishkan. It wasn't just about skill or craftsmanship; it was about Divine intervention, about something beyond human capability making the impossible possible. "They brought the Tabernacle" the text concludes, implying that the Tabernacle was brought into being by something more than human hands.
So, what are we to make of this? It's easy to focus on the tangible, the physical act of construction. But maybe the story of the Mishkan is trying to tell us something deeper. Maybe it's about recognizing that sometimes, the most significant accomplishments require a little bit of… well, magic. A little bit of Divine assistance. And perhaps, most importantly, a willingness to surrender our own ego and allow something greater to guide us. Because sometimes, the most beautiful things are built not just by us, but through us.