Yehuda Bachana: A Dwelling Place for the Holy Spirit - Pekudei [2025]

There’s no doubt that Parashat Pekudei is one of my favorite Torah Portions. The first reason is that, finally, the construction of the Tabernacle is completed. Moses performs a final quality check which includes the list of donations (a very important matter, which we’ll expand upon). Then follows a dedication ceremony during which God descends and accepts Israel’s gift.

I get very emotional when I realise that God received this human gift, made up of the people’s effort, handiwork and sacrifice. And, in return, God’s presence dwelled among them.

Parashat Pekudei—and with it, the Book of Exodus—ends in a magnificent way:

“Then the cloud covered the tent of meeting, and the glory of the Lord filled the tabernacle.” (Exodus 40:34)

Pekudei: A Rather Practical Beginning
Interestingly, this moving description follows after Parashat Pekudei begins with a material and financial report of the work and the resources used by Moses, the artists, and the leaders:

“These are the records of the tabernacle, the tabernacle of the testimony (...) All the gold that was used for the work (...) the gold from the offering, was twenty-nine talents and 730 shekels, by the shekel of the sanctuary. The silver from those of the congregation who were recorded was a hundred talents and 1,775 shekels, by the shekel of the sanctuary.” (Exodus 38:21, 24-25)

Here, Moses and the Torah present us with what was collected: the amount of silver (100 talents and 1775 shekels), and the amount of gold (29 talents and 730 shekels of gold).
I love this idea because I believe in full transparency and accountability.

Transparency
A proper code of conduct should include transparency, even when there’s full trust between all parties, including a leader and the people, or even within the family. Transparency is also essential for the next generation, as a way to build trust and to model how to manage most aspects of life in a responsible and healthy way.

The Completion of the Tabernacle
In today’s Israel, there are several models of the Tabernacle (in various sizes and degrees of construction quality), which have been created for educational purposes. There is a large model at the Timna Park near Eilat in the far south of the country, and two different models in ‘Ir Ovot’ (which is the modern name for the biblical place called ‘Tamar). There also is a large model in Ariel (Samaria).

Some of these models are quite impressive and invested in; and yet, somehow we still get the feeling that we’re dealing with something that’s a little—well let’s just say… simple. Wait, that’s it?! God dwelled in such a tent?

David and King Salomon
In my opinion, both David and King Solomon shared this feeling. This is because some 250 years after the Tabernacle was built in the wilderness, David tells Nathan the Prophet this rhetorical statement:

“See now, I dwell in a house of cedar, but the ark of God dwells in a tent.” (2 Samuel 7:2)

David sits in his palace, and towards the evening he steps out to breathe some of the fresh and cool Jerusalem mountain air. He takes a sip of his fine, aged wine from the Anathoth hills. From his balcony, David sees the Tabernacle and feels uneasy, because he lives in a grand palace, while the Ark of God is placed in a tent.

At this moment, God refuses David’s proposal and says:

“I have not lived in a house since the day I brought up the people of Israel from Egypt to this day, but I have been moving about in a tent for my dwelling.” (2 Samuel 7:6)

Of course, later on, Solomon would build God a house in Jerusalem, in the form of the Temple. Solomon appears to have been quite an impressive man with a royal appearance. We notice this as Yeshua uses Salomon as an example of an elegant man, and compares him to a lily that stands in contrast to the flowers of the field:

“I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these.” (Matthew 6:29)

This verse shows Solomon’s fine and esthetic taste. And that he, Solomon, was worthy of building a house for God. And yet, even Solomon, who built God a magnificent, unique, and glorious house, asked:

“But will God indeed dwell on the earth? Behold, heaven and the highest heaven cannot contain you; how much less this house that I have built!” (1 Kings 8:27)

In other words, the Tabernacle is ultimately described as a simple tent, and so is the Temple that was made by the best artists and crafted from the finest, imported materials. Because, after all, they were ‘just’ man made buildings made of relatively simple materials such as stone, metal, and wood. And that’s why Solomon asks: “Could I really build You a house?”

Seemingly Small
Even Salomon–-the wisest of all—felt this natural, human sense of feeling rather small and perhaps somewhat insignificant, and wondered: “What could I possibly do for God and for His Kingdom?”

And yet, contrary to that natural human thought, the biblical answer is: Yes. Absolutely yes! We can make a difference for God, and for His Kingdom! After all, Yeshua calls us His laborers. We are the laborers of the Kingdom of Heaven!

An Important Talmudic Story
Here we’re reminded of a beautiful and important Midrash:

“To what can this be compared? To a king who had a beloved friend. The king said to him: ‘Know that I will dine with you. Now go and prepare for me.’

The friend went and prepared a simple bed, a modest lamp, and a common table. When the king arrived, he came with his servants, surrounding him with golden lamps. When the friend saw all the glory, he was embarrassed and hid everything he had prepared — as it was all simple and plain.

The king said to him: ‘Did I not tell you that I would dine with you? Why did you not prepare anything for me?’ The friend replied: ‘When I saw all the glory that came with you, I was ashamed and hid all that I had prepared, for they were the vessels of a commoner.’ The king said to him: ‘By your life, I reject all the vessels I brought with me, and because of my love for you, I will use only yours.’” (Bamidbar Rabbah 15)

The king visits his friend’s home, who really did his best for his friend and king, by decorating his home and preparing a meal in honor of the king. But the moment he sees the king’s grandeur, wealth, and dazzling royal possessions, the friend feels embarrassed that both he and his home are just too simple, and so he hides everything he prepared. The king says: “For your sake, I pass on all my fancy possessions, and only use what you’ve prepared for me, because I love you, and know that you made everything with love.

When we compare this Midrash to the Israelites and to the building of the Tabernacle, we might wonder how such a relatively simple Tabernacle could possibly be good enough for God. The real answer is simple and clear: it can’t.

And yet… because it was made with great effort and—most importantly—with love, the King, God, gives up what’s ‘His’, in order to enjoy the work of our hands, because He knows our hearts!

Even today, our congregational buildings couldn’t compete with the purity of heaven that shines like a sapphire. Nor could our singing and praise compete with that of the ministering angels. They simply couldn’t. But God looks into our hearts. And so, our prayer, singing, and thanksgiving—which comes from our hearts—are the ones that break through the gates of heaven.

It’s no coincidence that Paul calls our bodies, ‘the temple of God,’ a dwelling place for the Holy Spirit:

“Do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit within you, whom you have from God? You are not your own.” (1 Corinthians 6:19)

And so, let’s not look at the Tabernacle as merely a simple tent, but rather as God’s holy and special dwelling place. And let’s also not look at our bodies as impure, weak, and flawed; but rather, as a precious and pure gift, the work of God’s hands, for we are His creation! We’re purified by the pure blood of Yeshua the Messiah, and that’s why our bodies and our lives are called a “temple of the Holy Spirit.”