We love having people over for dinner or lunch on Shabbat! But our beautiful, antique dining room table was getting in the way -- too wide and too many table legs. People sat so far apart they had to practically shout across the table or were always bumping a table leg jostling the table, spilling soup.
So this week we decided to swap out the antique for a plain oak table in the studio because that one is narrower and has only only four legs.
My dad used to manufacture furniture. The plain oak table was a gift from him almost 40 years ago when i first had an apartment big enough for a dining room table. Since then it has moved across the country with me -- it has been a kitchen table, a dining room table, a table for my kids' art projects, a desk, and a study group table when I returned to graduate school. I've seen a lot of it over the years. But only this week when we carried it into the dining room did I see a distinctive marking from my dad (who died this 17 years ago this month) on the bottom of the table. Seeing that marking brought a flood of memories of my dad giving me that table -- that table holds precious memories.
There also is a table to hold precious items in this week's Torah portion that is part of the tabernacle in in the wilderness. As work on the tabernacle begins, our ancestors are instructed, "take for Me an offering . . . from their hearts." (Exodus 25:1-2) The Hebrew seems odd at first because it does not say, "give to me" instead it says "take for me."
One understanding of this oddity is that in order to give from the heart, we need to take from among those things that are precious to us. My dad's marking under the table reminded me that he specially took from his inventory something precious to give to me.
One understanding of this oddity is that in order to give from the heart, we need to take from among those things that are precious to us. My dad's marking under the table reminded me that he specially took from his inventory something precious to give to me.
Yet in a more powerful sense, when we give to others we tend to feel better about our world and about ourselves. We take delight when we are able to give to others. I know how much pleasure my dad took in giving the table to me. And the greater pleasure even that he took watching me study and eat, create and play, and host others around that table.
The Sages teach a similar lesson in Talmud, "One accomplishes restoration (lit. atonement) through the table." (Chagiga 27a) According to Rabbi Yissocher Frand now that there is no more sacrificial altar, the "table" means the dining room table. How we use that table to nourish the hungry, to bring light at moments of darkness, to show kindness to strangers and guests -- all of that is, in effect, an altar bringing restoration.
May we have the strength to take from that which is precious to us and share it with others. May we have the wisdom to accomplish restoration through our nourishing others with food and laughter around our tables. May we take much pleasure from all that we give others.
