Learning to Be Cherubic
Usually when purchasing a container, one views the container’s cover as something ancillary to the container. But this doesn’t seem the case when it comes to Ark and its Cover. The Kapores, the Ark Cover (by the way, the English word “cover” derives from the Latin “cooperire,” which curiously resembles the word Kapores), is given prominence by the Torah as an important object on its own. Not only are the specifications for the Cover spelled out, but the Torah commands that two statues should be hammered out of the same gold that is used to manufacture the Kapores. In fact, the most visible and distinctive feature of the Aron is the Cover and its two Cherubim.
Much has been discussed about the Cherubim, why they are not idolatrous icons and what their function is, but a commentary by R’ Yissochor Berish Eichenstein of Ziditchov provides fodder for what we might wish to extract as a moral lesson from seeing these two statues upon approaching the Holy of Holies.
Rashi (25:18) tells us the Cherubim were sculptures of small children with wings. Furthermore, the Torah emphasizes that the statues were positioned on both “ends” of the Ark Cover (25:19): “כְּר֨וּב אֶחָ֤ד מִקָּצָה֙ מִזֶּ֔ה וּכְרוּב־אֶחָ֥ד מִקָּצָ֖ה מִזֶּ֑ה”. In fact, the Torah states this positioning on both “ends” no less than three times. What’s the lesson?
Cherubim as metaphor
When looking at these Cherubim, I can be inspired to think about myself. These sculptures are metaphors for each of us who is struggling to understand the meaning of life and the beautiful Torah that Hashem gave us with which we might have greater understanding about our existence and purpose. The Cover represents the fact that despite our best efforts at understanding the Torah, we’ve “barely scratched the surface.” Even when we think that we understand a Torah message, we’re only receiving the surface message. There’s so much more depth and infinitude that is inaccessible to us, just as the Cherubim stand atop the Cover, never being able to truly access the contents of the Aron.
Secondly, the image of the small child on both “ends” of the Cover represents that as much as I think I may have attained wisdom over the course of this life, I am still but a child, even in my advanced age, when it comes to truly understanding the meaning and purpose of life. As much as I think I’ve advanced from one “end” of my life to the other, when I compare my accumulated knowledge to the knowledge of G-d, I realize that I’ve moved the wisdom needle ever so slightly in an infinitely deep and vast sea of wisdom.
Face to face humility
This is why the Torah states that the faces of the Cherubim are (25:20) “אִ֣ישׁ אֶל־אָחִ֑יו” – facing each other. This communicates that when I’m a young person I look forward to attaining the wisdom of an older person, and look forward to the older version of myself, anticipating that as I get older I’ll become much wiser and capable. But as I get older, I look back to the younger version of myself and realize that I had so much more energy, vitality, and idealism, devoid of the cynicism and scars of a beleaguered life. This is the difference between King Solomon as a young man, when he wrote Shir HaShirim, the love song between the Jew and G-d, and the King Solomon as an older man, who wrote Koheles, filled with its wistful nihilism of looking back on life and saying, “הכל הבל”, everything is meaningless, because we’re all headed to the same demise.
Levi Yitzchak of Berditchev
The image of the Cherubim doesn’t just teach humility; childishness has its advantages, too. Rav Levi Yitzchak of Berditchev is quoted teaching that there are three lessons you learn from babies: (1) When the child needs something or is in pain, it cries to its parent. (2) A baby is always busy — you never see a baby just sitting there doing nothing. (3) When a baby falls down, it always gets up.
Furthermore, despite the fact that we’ve only reached the surface of the Torah, and that we are but children even after an entire lifetime, the Cherubim are still portrayed as having wings, wings that are (25:20) “פֹּרְשֵׂ֨י כְנָפַ֜יִם לְמַ֗עְלָה” – spread out to the above. This reminds me that despite all my shortcomings as a mortal human being I can still spread my wings and try to fly. I may have feet of clay, but I also have wings which I can spread toward Heaven and do my best to reach whatever is attainable in this short lifetime.
Looked upon this way, the Cherubim’s message is one of both humility and optimism about the human condition. Entering the Temple and seeing these majestic sculptures could help every single Jew visualize how he or she is to use their Judaism to propel them to the next level of living.
Bringing Divine Presence down
From the Cherubim, we can learn that as much as we think we know, as much knowledge and wisdom that we think we’ve accumulated, we still know nothing. But we can also draw optimism and hope from the Cherubim that the Jewish people were given the greatest gift when Hashem gave us the Torah. Not only a set of laws and practices with which to live our lives, but also a philosophy of optimism, that we have the great ability to spread our wings upwards to the open skies and reach for Heaven. And where does Hashem rest His Divine Presence? “וְנוֹעַדְתִּ֣י לְךָ֘ שָׁם֒ וְדִבַּרְתִּ֨י אִתְּךָ֜ מֵעַ֣ל הַכַּפֹּ֗רֶת מִבֵּין֙ שְׁנֵ֣י הַכְּרֻבִ֔ים” (25:22) – between those two Cherubim. When a Jew lives his life based on the Cherubim, the Divine Presence comes into his world.
This is the Jewish people, especially in Israel today. We should all be very grateful that we are alive to bear witness. May these days of great hope and success for Israel continue to propel us to the Messianic Age, may we see it bb”a.