Tomorrow will officially be the first day of spring in the Northern Hemisphere: Warmer weather is melting the snow and days are slowly lengthening. Despite the assignments of midterm season, springtime brings with it the promise of growth and renewal, inviting us to reflect on possibilities: to imagine what the future may hold, to bring curiosity into our lives, and to focus our attention and energy in this new season. 

One of the challenges of attending a school that places such an emphasis on work is that we can easily feel cut off from others, leaving us feeling lonely. We may have our small group of friends or our short breaks from study, but the constant attention that work demands of us, especially during midterms, leaves little time to cultivate a sense of connection and belonging with other people and with the world more generally. As the seasons shift, we have a powerful opportunity to ask: “How might we build the space in the midst of our own very busy lives to feel a sense of connection to the wholeness of life?”

These questions are in the background of this week’s Torah reading: Parshat Vayakhel (Exodus 35:1-38:20). The reading portrays the Israelites’ leader, Moses, presenting instructions for building the mishkan, a structure to be erected in the center of the Israelite camp in which God’s presence can dwell. The biblical text overflows with details about this sacred space — the metals and woods used, and the precise location of each part of the structure. It can be perplexing, and even boring, for a contemporary reader to read a text so bogged down in such details. But from the biblical perspective, this attention has a purpose. The mishkan is a locus where God can “dwell among” people (Exodus 25:8): The divine wishes to be present with people, and the people are offered an opportunity for a sense of connection with the divine. 

Of particular note is that the mishkan is built through the offerings of the people. Regarding contributions to its construction, the Torah says: “Everyone whose heart is so moved … shall take from themselves” (Exodus 35:5). Not only are humans required to set the conditions for connection with the divine, but they also need to facilitate that connection emotionally. People’s desire to be connected with the divine motivates their contributions. Mere donations, divorced from emotion, aren’t invited. What is instead invited are contributions that emerge from a yearning for connection with the divine. According to the Torah, the mishkan was erected on the new moon of the first month of spring, which falls late next week (Exodus 40:16). I think this offers a subtle suggestion that it is precisely at this time of year, when we emerge from the depths of winter and turn toward the renewal of spring, that we are reminded of the importance of awakening our own desire for connection with our community and that which is beyond us. 

In 13th century Spain, the authors of the Zohar, a central text of Jewish mysticism, were inspired by the connection between yearning for intimacy with the divine and the creation of sacred space. In their reflections on spiritual life, they emphasized the role of the heart (Zohar 2:198a): “Come and see: when a person wishes to activate their desire for connection to divinity, first, place it on the heart… Then take this good desire and extend it into the whole body. Then the desire of the heart and the desire of the body will unify as one. Then the brilliance of the divine presence will dwell with you.”

The Zoharic authors believe that the starting place for connection with the divine is with our hearts and our bodies. During a time of heightened workload, when it can be hard to imagine that our bodies exist below our necks, I think this text offers us guidance for connection that is readily accessible. If we can only allow our inner desire for healthy attachment and expansiveness to emerge, and then allow it to fill our bodies, then we can naturally evoke a felt experience of that which is beyond us. This may feel like a fantastical claim, but I find it deeply compelling. The first step to feeling connected with the wholeness of life begins when we turn toward it. If we can bring our attention to our inner desire for this wholeness, we create space for it to enliven our hearts. 

As we make our way through midterms, I wish each of us the ability to yearn for what feels most expansive to us. To connect with it, to bring it throughout our bodies, and to give us the capacity to expand it within ourselves. 

Rabbi Seth Wax is the College’s Jewish Chaplain.