This week's reading is a double portion which brings us to the end of Exodus. On one hand, these portions are simply repetitions of lists and descriptions we've read before, at least twice before, in recent weeks. We read that G-d has commanded Moses what he must say to the Israelites. Then we read that Moshe then tells the Israelites what G-d has commanded. This week we read how the Israelites do what Moshe has told them G-d has commanded. Then there is an inventory of what they have produced. Then G-d commands Moshe how to assemble the parts of the sanctuary and to dress the priests and then Moshe assembles the parts of the sanctuary and dresses the priests.

It is strange to say, but I find myself drawn to this repetition. While I don't expect everyone to feel the same way, I want to suggest you read it out loud in order to get the feeling for the detail and the completeness of the narrative. You might find yourself, as I do, thinking of the scene in Monty Python's Holy Grail where the priests call for the "holy hand-grenade." Resist the impulse. I won't go as far as to call it poetry, except there is some rhythm and aliteration in the Hebrew that doesn't come through the English, but there is some power in the narrative that I find hard to explain.

If you want a more sagacious insight, I like the note by R. Sh. Hirsch from his Pentateuch. R. Hirsch says (not in so many words, mind you) that nothing means anything except through its intention. Therefore, the construction of the pieces needed for the creation of the sanctuary and the ordination of the priests are only so much craftwork, indistinguishable from the work needed for objects for everyday use. Only the intention of creating holy space and sacred officiants makes these items different from the rest of our labors. Thus, he says, it is necessary to repeat the instructions, noting their source, and reminding us of their intention, in order to bring the sacredness to the work and eventually to the outcome.

On a lighter note, while reading this portion in our study group this week, I noticed a point of commentary that said that the women spun the goat hair while it was still on the goats, according to Rashi. Other than saying that this helped keep the luster in the yarn, there was no further information except a reference to the Talmud. We decided to look this entry up in the Talmud and discovered that the Hebrew actually says that the women "spun goats" not "goat hair." Rashi, who takes every word, every letter, even every space in the Torah as G-d's intent, apparently saw this unusual phrase as meaningful and this is the meaning he derived. For my part, I once tried spinning wool, with the loose fibers in one hand and the spinning energy imparted by a weighted bobbin hanging down. I could only imagine what spinning wool while the hair was still attached to the goat would look like. I can't see how you'd get the goat to spin.