A Covering of Many Colors

This is the week in our yearly Torah cycle when we first shift away from the story and narrative and majesty that have characterized the first book and a half of the Torah. As we move into the parts of the Torah detailing the plans, construction, and ritual use of the Mishkan, the Tabernacle that traveled with the Israelites on their journey, the narrative arc becomes less constant. Instead we have the technical writing section of the Torah, the blueprints and user manuals that underlay our sacred text. 

As more of a humanities person, I have always struggled with this section of the Torah, preferring to stick to searching for deeper meaning in the pieces that felt more relatable to me. The first community I served as a rabbi, however, was chock full of scientists and engineers. To my utter surprise, they absolutely loved this part of the Torah. In our years together, they opened my eyes to the beauty and power contained in the detailed lists that make up much of this section.

Parashat Terumah begins with such a list, detailing the items that were to be collected from the Israelites for the construction of the Mishkan. Among the more conventional building supplies, we read that they were to collect “tanned ram skins and taḥash skins,” (Exodus 25:5) which would be used as a covering. While I am deliberately leaving the word taḥash untranslated, English versions of the Torah often render this word as “dolphin,” “seal,” or even “dugong.” Not a material you see every day. 

And although I just said that the narrative arc all but disappears in this section of the Torah, let’s remember where we are for a moment - in the wilderness, just a few months out from having left Egypt and the momentous Revelation at Mount Sinai. In other words, in the desert. No matter which aquatic mammal you prefer as the translation of taḥash, they were all in short supply at this point in the people’s journey. 

Rashi’s commentary on this word draws from the Talmud’s discussion of the taḥash (Shabbat 28a) as well as a related midrashic account (Tanḥuma, Terumah 6:1). Evidently, the taḥash is a miraculous creature of the wilderness, distinguished by its massive size, single horn protruding from its head, and the many colors of its skin. It was known by the name Sasgona, because it prided itself (שש / sas) in its vibrant colors (גוונין / g’vanin).

What can we learn from this mysterious taḥash and its role in the construction of the Mishkan? In many ways, the Mishkan was both a reflection of and an aspirational statement about the Israelite community. Built from voluntary donations, it was a house of the people. Meant as a locus for God’s presence, it was a place where the Divine could be experienced. Constructed from both common natural resources and precious materials, it symbolized the blending of mundane and sacred. Covered by vibrantly colorful taḥash skins, it represented the diversity of the people and the necessity of inclusivity. 

The taḥash took pride, found joy, in its many colors. As a Jewish community, we should also experience the diversity that exists among us - of background, of opinion, of identity - as a source of joy and pride. 
The Midrash explains that the taḥash existed only at this time, and that it disappeared after the construction of the Mishkan. This is also instructive. Maintaining our openness to diversity, our pride and joy in the differences that exist within our community, is challenging. True and lasting inclusivity can be elusive. However, the Mishkan stayed with the people, accompanying them on their journey through the wilderness and even into the Promised Land. That whole time the vibrant many-colored covering of taḥash skins remained in place. That, too, should be our aim. May it also be our blessing.

Shabbat shalom.


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