Parashat Nasso

Josh Ull, Director of High School Student Life

On July 22, 2016, while taking Jewish high school teens on a summer road trip, we made it to the next stop on our itinerary, Hugs Cafe in McKinney, Texas. Hugs successfully trains and employs adults with special needs. I wanted to expose my students to their founder Ruth, a changemaker who created a restaurant that gave purpose to those who are often seen as useless. And yet, I didn’t expect to learn so much about myself in the process.
In this week’s parashah, Nasso, in the fifth and sixth aliyot, the mishkan is introduced. The mishkan was the temporary sanctuary in which God resided while the Children of Israel traveled in the desert. When the mishkan was dedicated, the leaders of each tribe offered their own gifts to God. God said, “One chieftain each day shall present his offering for the dedication of the altar.” (7:11). This parashah’s length is attributed to the repetition of the same gifts that were offered twelve separate times! As I read through each verse, I wondered, why does the Torah describe each gift individually, when they were actually all the same? I found this to be similar to how our tefilah has a standard structure yet lends itself to our own thoughts and prayers, or how Jews have the same God but their own relationship with theology. I believe each giver ascribed their own meaning to their gifts and that the lengthy repetition reinforces that each of those gifts was truly seen and appreciated. 

While I was humbled to meet Ruth, I was honored to listen to her teammates give a powerful presentation and tour. We met Danny the dishwasher, Jerry the silverware roller, and Mike their mensch of a cashier. It became clear that Ruth’s idea created an environment, a mishkan of sorts, built on the foundation of equality, where all were seen and given opportunity. I thought our visit would have ended there, but I was wrong. Ruth asked me to deliver their morning prayer. I had just spent four weeks teaching tefilah, but discovered I had never prayed in English before! In between my mind racing and my desire for one of Hugs’ chocolate chip cookies, I turned to my bus driver, Richard who was always sitting off to the side. I realized that Richard was Christian and spent years learning about Judaism while driving for our program, yet I never showed interest in his faith. I sat down and asked him how to pray in English and about his own spirituality. I learned so much in our five-minute interfaith crash course, and Richard was thrilled to share his story. I then joined with everyone and delivered a short sermon on the shechiyanu blessing, celebrating that unique moment in time. Judaism gave me the wisdom to ask for help, build bridges between different faiths, and most importantly to see the holiness in those we implicitly push to the fringes of our society. 

Our country is suffering and there’s a lot of systemic change that needs to happen. That change is not easy. In fact, the mishkan took multiple wagons, at least a dozen oxen, and many tribes to transport it. As we go into Shabbat, I implore all of us to put in the hard work necessary to move our nation forward. Like Ruth, I need to do better at understanding others. Like Richard, I need to do better at creating space to give others a voice. And most importantly, as God teaches us in Nasso, I need to not only recognize the gifts that each person brings to our world, but truly see each person as that special gift. In fact, in the third aliyah, God prohibits the ritually impure from entering the mishkan: “When someone commits any of the sins against man . . . that person is found guilty, they shall confess the sin they committed, and make restitution for their guilt.” (3:6). Those who strip others of their dignity should be held accountable and commit to changing their ways. Dignity leads to opportunity, and this is our opportunity to build a collective mishkan with our neighbor — a beautiful world where we recognize someone other than ourselves, a world with less hate and a lot more hugs. Shabbat Shalom.