The Yalkut Shimoni, a compilation of rabbinic teachings on the Bible, sheds light on this very question, drawing from Psalm 87:1-2: "Of the sons of Korah, a song with musical accompaniment, whose foundation is on the mountains of the Sanctuary. The Lord loves the gates of Zion more than all the dwellings of Jacob."
The passage begins with an exchange between Raba and Rafrem bar Pappa, a request for wisdom shared in the synagogue. Rafrem, relaying the words of R’ Chisdah, offers a surprising interpretation. What does it mean that God loves the gates of Zion more than the dwellings of Jacob? R’ Chisdah explains that God loves the gates distinguished by the way of Jewish law (halacha) more than synagogues and study halls.
Gates? What's so special about gates? Gates are thresholds. They are places of judgment, of deciding who and what enters. In biblical times, legal matters were often settled at the city gates. So, these "gates" represent the practical application of halacha, the very real, day-to-day living out of Jewish law. It's about how we conduct ourselves, how we treat others, and how we bring justice into the world.
It's a powerful idea, isn't it? That God values the lived expression of our faith, the ethical choices we make, even more than the places we dedicate to prayer and study.
And it doesn’t stop there.
R’ Chiya bar Aba, quoting Ulah, adds another layer. He says that since the destruction of the Holy Temple, all that remains for the Holy One in this world is "the four cubits of the law." What a poignant image! The physical Temple, the center of Jewish life, is gone. But the essence, the halacha, the framework for a moral and meaningful life, remains. It’s within those "four cubits" that we can still connect with the divine.
The Yalkut Shimoni offers one more insightful interpretation of the verse, "whose foundation is on the mountains of the Sanctuary." It suggests that the very foundation of Jerusalem rests on the merit of two sacred mountains: Mount Sinai, where the Torah was given, and Mount Moriah, the site of the (intended) Akeidah, the binding of Isaac, and later, the Temple.
So, what does all this mean for us today?
Perhaps it's a reminder to look beyond the walls of our synagogues and the pages of our books. To seek God not only in prayer and study, but also in the way we live our lives. To make our actions, our daily choices, a reflection of the halacha, a testament to the enduring power of Jewish law and ethics. After all, maybe the most sacred space isn't a building at all, but the space we create within ourselves, and in the world around us, through acts of kindness, justice, and compassion.