The great construction project had begun. A newly freed nation, emerging from generations of slavery, was now entrusted with the most epic and ambitious building endeavor in human history. It was not merely the architectural complexity that made this project so extraordinary.
Throughout history, humanity would erect grander structures, especially as technology expanded our capacity to build through remarkable feats of engineering and ingenuity.
What made this endeavor remarkable was its purpose—human hands were crafting a home to house the presence of the Infinite. Who could have imagined that mortals, mere flesh and blood, could construct a celestial dwelling? And yet, this was precisely what Hakadosh Baruch Hu desired—His home was to be a human creation. Just as we are charged with bringing His shechina into this world, so too we are tasked with building His palace on this planet.
Our available resources were understandably meager. Though we had received reparations upon leaving Egypt and had gathered war spoils after the Red Sea crossing, we remained a fledgling nation wandering through a barren desert. Presumably, many of the materials were procured from traveling caravans, while the rarer materials were provided directly by Hashem through supernatural means. Either way, the project was daunting, and securing the necessary dyes, materials, and metals was an immense challenge.
A Different Project
Hundreds of years later, we once again built a Mikdash for Hashem, but under vastly different conditions. By then, we had settled Eretz Yisrael and established a Jewish monarchy. We lived during the golden age of Jewish universalism, when empires across the ancient world took notice of the emerging nation-state, founded under the watchful eye of an all-knowing, all-powerful One Hashem.
Drawn by curiosity and eager to understand this divine presence, they enthusiastically contributed goods and services to the construction of the Beit HaMikdash. The Mikdash became an international beacon. While it remained the heart of Jewish korbanot, it also stood as a house of tefillah for all people. Non-Jews were welcomed to offer gifts and sacrifices, recognizing the Mikdash as a place where heaven met earth.
The international nature of the Mikdash in Yerushalayim embodied our universal mission—to inspire the world to embrace a life of meaning and values such as monotheism, morality, family, covenant and human dignity. It was only natural that the house that anchored these ideals would be built as an international endeavor, uniting nations in the pursuit of holiness and purpose.
Refreshing a Rancid Culture
This mission of inspiring humanity with moral values did not end with the destruction of the Temple. This month, we celebrate nes Purim, a story whose central drama revolves around Haman’s genocidal scheme—an age-old manifestation of antisemitic hatred. His plan failed then, just as such schemes have failed throughout history and will continue to fail. In every generation…
However, beneath the surface lay a deeper subplot. The Persian Empire had accumulated extraordinary wealth, yet instead of investing in public projects or social welfare, it fostered a culture of hedonistic self-indulgence.
For 180 days, the elites of Shushan reveled in endless feasting and excess, while villagers across the vast empire were burdened with crushing taxes to finance their extravagance. It was a society steeped in immorality and exploitation, drunkenness and greed—a civilization rotting from within.
Mordechai and Esther did more than save the Jewish people—they repaired a broken society and breathed new life into a culture steeped in decadence. They restored moral balance to a world consumed by excess, countering the chaos of self-indulgence with a vision of discipline and purpose. Even in the absence of our Mikdash, we remained steadfast in our mission—to mend humanity when it veered off course, guiding it back toward moral spirit.
Preserving Charity
A few centuries later, we once again played a pivotal role in steering the world away from a moral abyss. Ancient Greek civilization transformed the human experience, pioneering scientific inquiry that led to remarkable advancements in mathematics, architecture and medicine. They ignited the human spirit with a vast cultural legacy of art and literature. Additionally, they introduced democracy, the most just system of governance humanity has yet discovered.
Yet, for all its brilliance, Greek culture was morally hollow. It lacked a sense of charity and compassion for the vulnerable. The weaker members of society were left to fend for themselves and, in extreme cases, were forced to sell themselves into slavery to survive. The world risked drifting toward a cold, heartless civilization where intellect and power reigned without mercy.
By defending Jerusalem during the Chanukah wars, we took a stand against this moral void. Our resistance ensured that the world would not abandon compassion but would build societies rooted in kindness and compassion.
The Modern Struggle
We have returned to Jewish sovereignty in our homeland, and once again, we face the challenge of standing firm against toxic ideologies that, if left unchecked, will poison human consciousness.
The first 50 years of Arab opposition to our state was driven by Pan-Arab nationalism. Our presence in the land was seen as an obstacle to the expansion of Arab identity and national dominance in the Middle East.
Over the past 25 years, however, the violent opposition we face is no longer fueled by nationalist motives but by religious fanaticism. Our enemies invoke a god who does not exist, wielding a perversion of faith to justify their cruelty.
God is caring and compassionate, not murderous and vengeful. He desires that we build societies that cherish life, not ones that glorify death. Hashem endowed every human being with divine likeness and inherent dignity, a sacred gift that must be safeguarded and honored in every person.
Those who invoke His name to justify cruelty are religious impostors—heretics masquerading as the pious. To deny God’s ways is to deny His presence. They are not men of faith but atheists cloaked in religious fanaticism.
The Gift of Life
Last week, we tragically witnessed our enemies deny Hashem’s sacred gift of life. Life is bestowed upon us by Hashem, and as we journey through it, we cultivate our independent identity, perspectives and way of living. These choices leave a uniquely human imprint upon the divine gift of existence. The murder of an adult, though abhorrent and utterly inexcusable, is often driven by hatred toward that individual, a hatred shaped by the killer’s perception of his victim’s beliefs or actions. A baby, however, is a pristine creation of Hashem—innocent, unshaped and free of opinion or malice. A baby embodies life in its purest, most untouched form, a direct gift from the Divine. To take that life—let alone in the barbaric manner in which Ariel and Kfir Bibas, HY”D were murdered—is not only a moral atrocity but an act of theological heresy, a denial of Hashem as the giver of life itself.
We did not need a reminder, yet we received one once again. These barbarians are not religious. Do not be deceived by their hollow claims as they invoke God’s name—they are atheists in disguise. Their unspeakable crimes are not merely acts of brutality; they are direct assaults on the Divine.
For the past year and a half, they have warped the image of God and degraded the dignity of human beings. This past week, we witnessed how they completely rejected the notion of God as the giver of life.
Like all those before them who dared to defy God, they too will be swept away—it is only a matter of time. This is not merely a battle for boundaries; it is a struggle to defend morality, virtue and faith in God.
אלקוי נשמה שנתת בי טהורה היא אתה בראתה אתה יצרתה ואתה נפחת בי
“Hashem, the soul You have placed within me is pure. You created it, You formed it, and You breathed it into me.”
The writer is a rabbi at the hesder Yeshivat Har Etzion/Gush, with YU ordination and an MA in English literature from CUNY. His most recent book, Reclaiming Redemption: Deciphering the Maze of Jewish History (Mosaica Press), is in bookstores and at www.mtaraginbooks.com.
