After David gives the plans for the בית המקדש to Shlomo, he turns to the people.
The word בירה appears only in the post-exilic books of תנ״ך:
The obvious suggestion is that בירה is a Persian loan word. The Farsi word for tower is برج, burj (I think that’s the transliteration), as in the Burj Khalifa. But Rabbi Leibtag suggests the reverse: בירה primarily refers to Jerusalem, and שושן הבירה is an ironic reference to the assimilation of Persian Jews.
David intends to build the בירה in Jerusalem, but by the time of Esther, the Jews feel their בירה is in Persia. It’s similar to the sentiment expressed by the Meshech Chochma:
That’s the danger of this בירה: it will be simply an impressive tower, that can be replaced with other impressive towers. But that’s not where the Jews are now. They are going to build the בירה to be the בית אלקים. David describes how much money and raw materials he’s accumulated.
He emphasizes that he has the הזהב לזהב והכסף לכסף, because the plans may call for gold and silver but they might not have been able to afford that. Later in history, they will have to substitute:
Even the כלי המקדש can be made of cheaper materials if they can’t afford the gold:
And in Yeshaya’s vision of the future בית המקדש we will be able to afford to build things the way they were intended.
And then David describes the construction budget:
But despite all that, when Shlomo actually builds the בית המקדש, he apparently doesn’t use all that gold and silver:
David seems to have a blind spot. He has just said (דברי הימים א פרק כח:ג), והאלקים אמר לי לא תבנה בית לשמי כי איש מלחמות אתה ודמים שפכת, but he doesn’t seem to understand what that implies.
And then, after describing how much money he’s budgeted, he asks for donations.
Why solicit donations? He’s already said that he has enough. I think the reason is the same as the reason that the original משכן had to be made from donations.
It was important that every single member of the community felt that they had a part in building the משכן. Without that sense of community, the physical building would be pointless.
Having set up the building fund, David concludes with a ברכה of thanksgiving to הקב״ה.
He specifically addresses אלקי ישראל אבינו:
David sees himself as finally fulfilling the vow that Yaakov had made seven centuries before.
And the text of this ברכה is familiar:
I want to focus on those first psukim, the list of praises of ה׳, from הגדלה והגבורה to ממלכה והמתנשא.
The implication is that each of these represents a different aspect of ה׳'s manifestation in the world.
As we said last time, the בית המקדש is the לבנת הספיר, the prism, through which ה׳'s manifestation in the world is refracted into the actions of human beings, the מעשה צדיקים. Later kabbalists took the terms that David used, הגדלה והגבורה והתפארת והנצח וההוד etc., and called them the “ספירות”.
דברי הימים
ספירות
גדלה
חסד
גבורה
דין
תפארת
תפארת
נצח
נצח
הוד
הוד
כל בשמים ובארץ
יסוד
ממלכה ומתנשא
מלכות
I don’t know that David had this intricate theological system in mind, but he clearly means that everything in the world, including our very existence, is a manifestation of ה׳'s goodness in the world. And מודים אנחנו לך, part of our task is to acknowlege that. If the Jews start focusing on the glory of the building instead of its meaning, it will end in disaster.
I would like to look at two perakim of תהילים that highlight how we are to bring the “light” of הקב״ה into the world.
JPS translates הריעו לאלקים כל הארץ as “Raise a shout for G-d, all the earth”, but Hirsch translates הריעו as “waken”. This psalm is looking toward a day when everyone will be awakened to praise ה׳ and (in the next verse) His כבוד, which is always used for the manifestation of הקב״ה in the created world, and therefore, אמרו לאלקים מה נורא מעשיך.
נורא is in the singular, where מעשיך is plural. The נורא, awesomeness, describes the sum total of מעשיך. Rav Soloveitchik calls that sense of נורא, ”numinous“, a term coined by Rudolf Otto to mean a (from Wikipedia) “non-rational, non-sensory experience or feeling whose primary and immediate object is outside the self”. It (from Britannica Online) “evades precise formulation in words. Like the beauty of a musical composition, it is non-rational and eludes complete conceptual analysis; hence it must be discussed in symbolic terms”.
We express this idea in שחרית for שבת. There are four descriptions of ה׳ that we use in davening:
And we define all of those in נשמת:
The one that is left undefined is נורא. נורא is ineffable.
But what are we supposed to do with that feeling?
G-d “only” wants one thing: ליראה and ללכת and לאהבה and לעבד and לשמר! The way to read this (as we discussed in פרשת עקב תשפ״א) is that really,
ה׳ wants only one thing: ליראה את ה׳ אלקיך, to feel the נורא, so that the rest follows: ללכת בכל דרכיו ולאהבה אתו, etc.
ה׳ asks to “borrow” our יראת שמים, our awe of the Divine, that we freely choose to acknowledge, so that He can “fill” it will all the מצוות that will allow us to fulfill the ultimate purpose of creation.
We need to spread that feeling of נורא to the rest of the world, not so much by preaching as by being an example.
That sense of נורא, of the numinous, is in the experience of miracle; עלילה means deeds that have a cause, a reason (Google translates לעליל ועלול as “for all intents and purposes”).
The open miracles of קריעת ים סוף and קרעית הירדן, and we sang שירה there (שם נשמחה בו), but Radak points out that נשמחה is in the future tense. It is a hint to the ultimate גאולה which will also be an awesome miracle:
In the bigger picture, the most inspiring miracle is the survival of the Jewish people:
We all known Mark Twain’s essay, Concerning the Jews:
He doesn’t answer the question, but earlier in the essay he has a wry Twain-ian comment:
The secret of Jewish immortality is Divine nepotism.
But that is all the direct manifestation of ה׳ in the world. The psalmist wants to make it relevant, kerygmatic.
Sacrifices are one thing, but they are not the point. The psalmist addresses כל יראי אלקים , the ones who feel the נורא and need to translate that into action.
I thank ה׳ that I still have my תפלה. That is how to use יראה, to tell the world, זמרו כבוד שמו:
The next perek is similar, exhorting the entire world to praise ה׳. It has an interesting background.
Setting aside the kabbalistic סודות ונפלאות and the midrashic meaning of the מגן דוד, writing this perek בצורת מנורה makes the chiastic structure of the perek clear. Turning it on its side (note that the psukim are now bottom to top) shows the structure:
It starts with אלקים יחננו ויברכנו and ends with יברכנו אלקים, then pairs לדעת בארץ דרכך with ארץ נתנה יבולה, then uses the same pasuk twice, יודוך עמים אלקים and centers the chiasmus on ישמחו וירננו לאמים כי תשפט עמים מישר.
The other structural aspect of this perek is that it contains
49 words, corresponding to the days of the Omer (7x7), and we have the minhag to recite it as part of counting the Omer.
I asked ChatGPT why we recite Psalm 67 when we count the Omer.
That is so far from the truth that it isn’t even wrong. There isn’t a correct statement in there.
The only conclusion I can come to is that this perek is so deep and mystical that it causes hallucinations in artificial intelligences. So that isn’t very useful.
Let’s look at this perek.
The expression of יחננו ויברכנו; יאר פניו אתנו is clearly an allusion to ברכת כהנים:
But it’s missing the last verse: ישא ה׳ פניו אליך. We looked at these ברכות in פרשת נשא תשפ״ב. Rashi explains יאר פניו:
We know what a smiling yellow face is:
😊
But Rashi explains the next verse very differently:
😠
The third verse is not synonymous with the second. The second, יאר פניו, is that ה׳ should be happy with you. The third, ישא פניו, is that when ה׳ is angry, He should not show you His face. ישא ה׳ פניו אליך should be parsed as “May ה׳ take away His פניו אליך, the angry face that He is going to show you”.
We explained that ברכת כהנים acknowledges that we are not perfect, that we don’t always deserve ברכה. But even then, we can ask for ה׳'s רחמים, that he “turn aside” and overlook our imperfections.
But our perek here leaves that thought out. It is all positive, all about the divine “light” that we keep coming back to. That is the image of the menorah, that spreads its light out to the world.
And that is the connection with the Omer. As we said above and in Blueprints, the ספירות represent the way we classify that divine “light”, refracted through our sensations of the universe around us, and through our own actions. The period of the Omer is when we are supposed to work on those מידות, so we become the prism about which we can say, יאר פניו אתנו. The first pasuk of ברכת כהנים and the first half of our pasuk here, אלקים יחננו ויברכנו, is for our own ברכה, that we are prosperous. The second is that we should spread that light to others.
And through us, the light spreads through the world.
That is our mission, לתקן עולם במלכות שד־י. And that leads to the
apex of the chiasmus:
We look to a day when the world will rejoice over the fact that ה׳ judges and leads them, וכל בני בשר יקראו בשמך.
The last stich is the consequence of יודוך עמים כלם: the מלכות שד־י leads to material prosperity.
And the
last pasuk is parallel to the first, אלקים יחננו ויברכנו. But now the psalmist makes the point that the goal for our prosperity, our ברכה, is to spread יראת ה׳ throughout the world.
ארץ נתנה יבולה is not a reward in the sense of a payment for what we have done; it is a gift to allow us to move forward.
Nothing we have in this world is because we deserve it; ה׳ gives us the benefits of this world in order to allow us to fulfill the תורה. If you have done מיצוות, Hashem will give you the tools—health, wealth, influence—that will allow you to do more מיצוות. It’s like getting a second round of venture capital funding. At each stage, the funder looks at what you’ve managed to do with what you had before deciding that you should get more money. The big payoff at the IPO doesn’t happen until much later. So too, we need to realize that the gifts we have, that Hashem grants us, are tools, not rewards. We have to use them to give to others and then we will be granted more of those gifts.
And so this perek is symbolized by the menorah, spreading light throughout the world.
But how does that connect to the מגן דוד, that the חידא said כשהיה יוצא למלחמה והיה מכוין סודו והיה נוצח? Note that this is not the hexagram (✡)
that we generally associate with the term מגן דוד, but the menorah with תהילים פרק סז. I think the message of the midrash is that the “real” David, the one we are meant to remember and tell the story of, is not the warrior of ספר שמואל but the psalmist of ספר תהילים. When he was יוצא למלחמה, היה מכוין סודו, and realize that true victory was not a military conquest, but ישמחו וירננו לאמים.