Rabbi Konigsburg's Blog

A riddle: What is found in darkness, but never in light; in the midst of shadows, but never in the night? (Email me for the answer).

I find riddles very compelling, especially when the answers aren’t readily obvious. Like a good puzzle, I enjoy the journey of sitting with the problem, trying to think outside the box, and wondering what the answer could possibly be. The journey of solving the riddle isn’t always pleasant because it is filled with frustrations and an unshakable feeling of being stuck. Yet, the pride and satisfaction I receive when I solve a good riddle overpowers whatever discomfort I might have felt while figuring it out. Although it helps that brainteasers are not high stakes (unless you are Oedipus with the riddle of the Sphynx). If I can’t solve a word riddle, then no harm, no foul. But there are similar “riddles” in life - moments when we will feel stuck - without readily available answers or options. In such moments, the stakes are higher. But just as with word riddles, we would be wise to remember that just because we feel stuck in one moment, doesn’t mean that a solution doesn’t exist. Similarly, perhaps we can recall that the joy of discovering the path forward likely outweighs the negative experience of the journey through the problem itself.

In this week’s Torah portion, Vayakhel, the actual construction of the Mishkan begins. After collecting more than enough materials for all the furnishing and clothing for the priests, Moses announces that Bezalel son of Uri son of Hur has been chosen to be the chief architect and artisan because God had singled him out and “filled” him with “a divine spirit of skill, ability, and knowledge in every kind of craft” and inspired him “to make designs for work in gold, silver and copper, to cut stones for setting and to carve wood – to work in every kind of designer’s craft” (Exodus 35:30-33). Most commentators take the Torah at face value. God endowed Bezalel with all the knowledge he would need to build the Mishkan. The implications of this view would be that while we may experience knowledge as coming from our own minds – perhaps through the firing of neurons – in truth, those insights and understandings come from God. Ibn Ezra (Jewish commentator and philosopher, 12th century, Spain) however argues that it’s not that God bestowed wisdom on Bezalel, but rather God saw how “full” Bezalel was with wisdom, insight, and understanding. In other words, when we eventually have a “eureka!” moment after being stuck on a problem, did the answer come from God? Or did it come from a newly connected neuron that was previously inactive in our own minds?   

While modern thinkers would raise up Ibn Ezra’s approach, arguing that insight comes from accessing a portion of our minds that was previously inaccessible, there is a spiritual component to this moment that is worth considering. Mainly, there will be moments in our lives where we will feel stuck without knowing a solution or a good path forward. But just as we might hope that an answer might be bestowed from heaven, we also would do well to remember that a readily unavailable answer does not mean that the answer doesn’t exist. Rather, it just means that we must create opportunities to access wisdom, whether through meditation, prayer, learning, experience, or time. We might not know the answer at first glance, but that doesn’t mean that we can’t figure out the answer with a little bit of time or blessing.

Shabbat Shalom