by Rabbi Bill S. Tepper
Benno Jacob, a noted early 20th century Conservative rabbi and Torah scholar wrote:

Our book – that is, the Book of Exodus – which began in the darkness [of slavery], concludes in the brilliant illumination of God’s glory before the eyes of the entire House of Israel.

[Etz Hayim Torah and Commentary, on Ex. 40:35]

I love traveling by plane – even when it implies, as it always does the song-and-dance of checking in, seeing our luggage through, passing the security points and – if we are traveling internationally – responding to questions from a customs/immigration official.  And let’s not forget – once we’ve boarded – the anxious maneuvering to acquire storage space above our seat. 

But what I especially cherish – along with the thrill of take-off and landing – is the plane’s ascent through the roof of the clouds, and witnessing how a dull and overcast sky below the clouds transforms to brighter-than-bright sunshine when we are above it.   Dreary and gray beneath.  Extraordinarily light above.  Two ways of understanding the sky…and the heavens.  Two ways perhaps of understanding life. Two ways of understanding ourselves. Two realities rendered distinct by the cloud.   

I haven’t flown since just before the pandemic – exactly five years ago; VIA Rail and cars have since become my means travel beyond Toronto.  But I miss flying.  I miss rising through and above the clouds. 

A particular cloud performs a special role in our Shabbat Torah text – Pekudei, meaning ‘order’ or ‘special arrangement.’  Pekudei is the final parsha of the Sefer Sh’mot, the Book of Exodus.  Following immense and dedicated work by the Israelites, all is now in order regarding the newly constructed Tabernacle in the wilderness. The continuation of the journey towards the Promised Land – guided by Moses and God’s cloud – is about to proceed.    The closing words of Pekudei read:
 
 ...the cloud covered the Tent of Meeting, and the Presence of God filled the Tabernacle.  Moses could not enter the Tent of Meeting, because the cloud had settled upon it and the Presence of God filled the Tabernacle. 
When the cloud lifted from the Tabernacle, the Israelites would set out on their various journeys; but if the cloud did not lift, the Israelites would not set out until such time as it did.  For over the Tabernacle a cloud of God rested by day, and fire would appear in it by night, in the view of all the house of Israel throughout their journeys [Ex. 40:34-38].

In the ArtScroll Humash we read:

The glory of God rested … in full view of every Jewish woman, man and child…

Until now, God had shown Israel miracles, and embraced her in closeness… Now however, Israel would see her Tabernacle enveloped in holiness, the Tabernacle built with her gifts, made with her hands, erected by her prophet Moses, assuring her that God’s presence would forever remain in her midst – if they would continue to make God welcome. [Commentary on Ex. 40:17-38]

Robert Alter – one of the foremost Biblical scholars of our time – writes:

We have been left with a sense of harmonious consummation in the completion of the Tabernacle, but the condition in which the Israelites [now] find themselves remains unstable, uncertain, a destiny of wandering through arduous wasteland towards a promised land that is not yet visible…   The concluding words of Exodus point forward not to the Book of Leviticus which immediately follows, but to the Book of Numbers, with its wanderings, defections, and dangerous tensions between the leader – Moses – and the led. [Commentary on Ex. 40: 38]

Clouds are blessings.  Thanks to clouds, precipitation nourishes an otherwise parched earth, allowing grass, plants, flowers and agriculture to proliferate.   Thanks to this precipitation we can take delight seeing the rainbows in the sky, signaling to us, as they did to Noach when he emerged from his ark, that we will live and – ideally, prosper – another day. And as I like to point out, the precipitation from clouds implies another day during which we can skip heading to the car wash.

But clouds also bring a sense of alarm.  The prelude to a violent rain or snowstorm during which damage to both persons and property may result.  And clouds play on our mood and emotions. After all, who of us cannot admit to the gloom, moroseness, and despair that accompany skies darkened by clouds?  

As I speak these words this morning, there are clouds in the sky.  Yes – the actual clouds signaling the imminence of rain or flurries.   But far more importantly, the clouds of political, social, cultural and economic uncertainty.   The clouds we associate with concern and, for so many of us, anxiety.  For as I speak this morning, none of us can predict the extent to which events will continue to unfold as they presently are among our family members, close friends and colleagues among them – to the south.   Given the recklessness, heartlessness and irresponsibility we’ve witnessed thus far, we remain uncertain as to what the future holds vis-a-vis the new American government and all the people in its care. The targeting of refugees and dissenters, the targeting of diversity, equity, inclusion and accessibility, the targeting of persons of faith – Jews included.  Let us not delude ourselves that this government is wholly supportive of Israel nor the American Jewish community.   How else to respond to the deafening silence that greets those who continue to deny the Holocaust and repeatedly espouse Jewish conspiracy theories?    And: the targeting of gays, lesbians, bisexuals and the transgendered.   The targeting of armed forces veterans.  The targeting of the nation’s public education system.  The targeting of social security and other safety nets. And the impersonal dismissal of countless persons who have devoted their lives to public service.  

Meanwhile, here in Canada, and with our federal election one month away, there is uncertainty regarding our economy, culture and social fabric.   There is uncertainty regarding our nationhood.  There is uncertainty regarding the trustworthiness of those aspiring to lead us.  There is uncertainty – and apprehension – as we approach what is arguably the most crucial federal election of our time. The outcome – the wrong outcome, in particular – is almost too overwhelming to contemplate.

Yes…it’s a cloudy day…

But if I may turn again to the metaphor of a plane ascending through the cloud, there is also light. There is also what lies beyond the cloud.   There is also – difficult as it may be to sustain – conviction in the innate goodness of our fellow persons, ourselves, and our communal institutions; in particular – our houses of worship, our religious schools, cultural and recreational centers and our Jewish community in her entirety.  And a belief in the larger community, her good institutions, persons of different religious faiths – or no religious faith at all – ethnicities, cultures, gender, gender identity, economic status and political persuasion; in other words, all who genuinely care for the well-being of those they live alongside and strive to support.  

Clouds imply darkness, and what is foreboding.  But as we learn from Torah and parshat Pekudei, clouds also imply strength, resilience and progress.  Clouds imply the light that follows their passing.   Clouds imply blessings.  Guided by God’s cloud, Israel in the wilderness moves forward.   And so must we.

Amidst darkening skies and heavens, keep your umbrellas at-hand.  They’re always useful.  But like Noach emerging from the confinement of his ark – may we continue to anticipate God’s keshet – the rainbow.   And may we continue to anticipate – and lovingly embrace – God’s light.

Ken Y’hi Ratzon. May it be God’s will.