Carrying Curtains: Easiest Job, Or Most Significant?

Parshat Naso

by Rabbi Avi Billet

The jobs of the Levitic families were spelled out in last week’s Torah portion, and the expanded version of their designated assignments began in Chapter 4, giving us the jobs of the Kehat family, moving into our parsha, with the depictions of the jobs of the Gershon and Merari families.

                

It seems to be undisputed that the Gershon family had the easiest job, because all they really needed to carry were curtains and similarly fabric-style materials, along with the tools used to hang them up. The “parochet,” (curtain for the Holy of Holies) the various “masakh”s (entrance to the courtyard and the Mishkan), and the covers (roof) of the Mishkan all fit into this category.

                

Compare this to the job of Merari – who carried the beams and all of the copper – and this job is a walk in the park. Even the Kehatites, who perhaps didn’t carry the heaviest items (though the gold is measured by length, and not weight), had to carry the most “important” items, especially the Aron (Ark), all of which carry with them a much deeper sense of responsibility (and expense) than the curtains and the goat-skin roof cover.

                               

Ibn Ezra and Rabbenu Bachaye note that the verse simply says “tapestries, the Communion Tent, the roof, the over-roof of processed skins that is above it, the drape at the Communion Tent entrance, the enclosure's hangings, the drape at the entrance to the enclosure around the Tabernacle and altar” (4:25-26) leaving out any reference to the red-colored ram skin cover (Shmot 25:5, 26:14)

                

Rashi notes that the phrase “the roof” refers to the ram-skin cover, but obviously it is not spelled out in the text.

                

Why would this be left out? Ibn Ezra and Rabbenu Bachaye suggest that the Torah is speaking in a summary-language, perhaps leaving out non-essential (or obvious) details. On the other hand, they suggest, maybe the beautiful red-skinned cover was attached to the goat-skin cover.

                

Were one to walk inside the Mishkan and look up, the beautiful woven cover, a tapestry made of fine and colorful threads, would be visible. (Here this related "shmooze" by Rabbi Marc Penner) Above it – covering its appearance from the outside – was a dark, unbeautiful goat-skin cover. Above the goat skins was the red ram-skin cover.

                

There are debates as to whether the red ram-skin cover paralleled the two covers beneath it like an over-flowing table cloth, or whether it just lined the top of the Mishkan. The distinction between the two options is whether the goat skin cover could be seen at all.

                

There is surely symbolism embedded in the need for a goat-skin cover to hide the beauty of the Mishkan. But what are we to make of the possibility that the ram cover and the goat cover may have been attached to one another? Why could they not be separated as different layers?

                

Look at any artistic rendition of the Mishkan, and the most striking element of the edifice, from the outsider’s view, is the red, ram-skin cover. Whether it only lines the roof, and especially if it drapes over the sides, it is attached to something which is on the one hand gray and dull, but on the other hand strong, durable and rugged.

                

Perhaps this takes the expressions “beauty is only skin deep” to a whole new level – a goat-skin level!

                

In all seriousness, maybe the lesson we can take from Ibn Ezra and Rabbenu Bachaye’s possibility is that the animal skin covers were attached to one another to unify goat and ram.

                

Aside from the animal sacrifices on various holidays that include goat and ram, we specifically recall the goat and the ram on our High Holidays. On Rosh Hashana we utilize the ram’s horn for the shofar-sounding, and on Yom Kippur we recall the fascinating role of the “Se’ir La’azazel,” the goat that carried the burden of the sins of Israel that was thrown over a cliff on the Day of Atonement.

                

These animals were meant, on those days, to be symbols of repentance and of returning to God. Perhaps the Mishkan, whose ultimate purpose was to be a place where atonement could be achieved, symbolically modeled the union of the two animals of atonement through the attachment of the ram and goat skins.

                

Maybe we had it wrong. Maybe the family of Gershon had the most significant job, that of carrying the symbol of atonement that the people could see on a daily basis, through a mere glance at the Mishkan.