March 13, 2010 | 27 Adar 5770 

Earlier this week I officiated at the funerals of three different women, two of whom many of you knew. Seraphina Cohen, of blessed memory, was part of our cadre of regular Shabbat morning service attendees for nearly twenty years. Minnie Kolodkin, of blessed memory, played an important role in our congregation for more years than many of us have lived. As I told the people who attended their funerals, Seraphina and Minnie were artisans who created beauty. Seraphina had an eye for fashion and helped people to always look their best. Minnie’s hands worked magic – in the kitchen (at home and in the synagogue) and as she needle-pointed, crocheted and embroidered. The third woman, Anita Katz Greenstein, of blessed memory, “sculpted” families when they were in need.

All three of these women fashioned beauty of lasting significance. Seraphina’s fashions and accessories boosted the confidence and self image of those who wore them. Minnie’s creations nourished her family’s bonds as well as their bodies. She helped all of us to enjoy special moments and to celebrate. Anita fashioned wholeness from brokenness. As people suffered the deaths of loved ones, she helped them to successfully grieve.

Seraphina, Minnie, and Anita walked in the footsteps of the artisan we see in today’s concluding parshiyot of the Book of Shemot. Betzalel, chief artisan of the desert Tabernacle, took articles that community members brought as “nedivei lev” (“gifts of the heart”) and fashioned the tent and appurtenances which together comprised the Tabernacle. In a rudimentary sense, I’m sure that Betzalel fashioned beautiful objects from the materials he received. I am certain that his efforts served to lift up the spirits of the Israelites as they realized what this skilled individual had been able to make out of the things they brought him. In the end, Betzalel didn’t just make things. He fashioned holy space that would represent God’s presence in the community.

Each of us creates every day. Most of the time we hardly think about what we create. We just do it… and then move on to the next task.  In fact, we hardly, if ever, think about what we do as what we create. But that is what it is – an act of creation in which we fashion something of substance or create impressions on the part of those who are affected by what we do. 

Take a few moments. In fact, take some time as frequently as possible (Shabbat seeks to provide us with a regular time) and reflect on what you're doing and creating.  Is it really worthy? Will it be of lasting significance? I’ll bet, in most cases, it is far more significant than you think.

Shabbat Shalom.