Rabbi Shmuel bar Naḥman, citing Rabbi Natan, makes a rather astonishing claim. He says that the 18 commands mentioned in the portion of the Tabernacle actually correspond to the 18 vertebrae in the spine. The very structure that holds us upright, that allows us to move and bend, is linked to the divine commands regarding the Tabernacle, the portable sanctuary that housed God’s presence amongst the Israelites.

But the connections don't stop there. According to this teaching, these 18 commands also correspond to the 18 blessings in the Amidah prayer, the central standing prayer in Jewish services. And even further, to the 18 mentions of God’s name in the recitation of the Shema (the declaration of faith: "Hear, O Israel, the Lord is our God, the Lord is One") and in the verse "Give to the Lord, sons of the mighty" from Psalm 29. It’s a beautiful, intricate web of interconnectedness!

Rabbi Ḥiyya bar Abba offers a more specific starting point. He pinpoints the 18 mentions of God's commands as beginning with the verse in Exodus 38:23: "With him was Oholiav son of Aḥisamakh, of the tribe of Dan..." all the way to the end of the book. He excludes the preceding verse, Exodus 38:22, which mentions Bezalel, the artisan who crafted the Tabernacle.

Why this particular verse? The Midrash uses a powerful analogy to explain. Imagine a king entering a city, surrounded by commanders, governors, and generals. How would the people know whom the king favored most? The answer, of course, lies in whom the king chooses to address directly.

Similarly, the Midrash notes that God calls Moses up to Mount Sinai, along with Aaron, Nadav, Avihu, and the seventy elders (Exodus 24:1). But how do we know who is most beloved? The answer: the one God calls and speaks with directly. Hence the phrase, "He called to Moses."

But why Moses? Another analogy: When a king enters a city, who does he speak with first? Isn’t it the overseer of the city's food markets? Because that person is responsible for the sustenance of the city. In the same way, Moses bore the burdens of the Israelites. He taught them what was permissible and forbidden, what was pure and impure. "This animal you may eat, and that one you may not eat" (Leviticus 11:9). "These you shall abominate from the birds" (Leviticus 11:13). "This is impure to you" (Leviticus 11:29).

Moses, in essence, was overseeing the spiritual sustenance of the people, guiding them in how to live a life aligned with God's will. And that, according to the Midrash, is why "He called to Moses."

So, what can we take away from this intricate Midrashic exploration? Perhaps it's a reminder that our tradition is not a collection of isolated laws and stories, but a deeply interconnected tapestry. Perhaps it encourages us to look for the hidden echoes, the subtle resonances that connect seemingly disparate parts of our lives and our tradition. And maybe, just maybe, it invites us to consider how we, too, can bear the burdens of our community, offering guidance and sustenance in a world that often feels overwhelming.