This sheet on Exodus 27 was written by Daniel Graber for 929 and can also be found here
Exodus 27 might read like a biblical trip to Ikea, with step by step instructions on how to build the Mishkan and its implements. Its verses are filled with measurements for curtains, boards, and fence posts. It even describes the shovel to be used to remove ashes from the altar. The attention to detail borders on obsessive, until one remembers that the purpose of these instruments is to be the physical point of connection to a God who is so much more than physical.
The flashpoint of that contact is the Altar on which the offerings were to be given. The altar is thus described: “ You shall make the altar of acacia wood, five cubits long and five cubits wide, the altar is to be square, and three cubits high. Make its horns on the four corners, the horns to be of one piece with it; and overlay it with copper” (Exodus 27:1-2). One could understand the copper coating as serving an aesthetic function. Shiny metal is prettier than dull wood. Or, one could understand it as functional. After all, the acacia wood must need protection from the continuous flames of the sacrifices.
Midrash Tanhuma does not seem to think that those answers are sufficient. It pictures Moses asking God if the copper coating will hold up to the heat of God’s fire. His question is full of anxiety, almost as if to say, “Can the precautions we take possibly be effective? How can our physical existence bear contact with the Divine?”. The Almighty rebukes Moses. Surely God can do anything, including sustain the metal and wood of God’s own altar. What then is the purpose of the copper coating?
“In order to atone for the brazen brow (i.e., Israel’s shamelessness), as it is said: And your neck is an iron sinew, and your brow copper (Isa. 48:4)” answers the Midrash.
The system of sacrifices has the potential to be a conduit between humanity and the Divine. It also carries the danger of human arrogance. The Kohanim and Leviim who work in the temple could see themselves as a holier class of people. Those bringing sacrifices might see their sin offering as the source of forgiveness. Too easily can the forms of religious ritual become a replacement for the internal work of honing ourselves to be godly people. The altar’s copper coating reminds us that humility and self-reflection are the traits which allow us to create contact with God.
The flashpoint of that contact is the Altar on which the offerings were to be given. The altar is thus described: “ You shall make the altar of acacia wood, five cubits long and five cubits wide, the altar is to be square, and three cubits high. Make its horns on the four corners, the horns to be of one piece with it; and overlay it with copper” (Exodus 27:1-2). One could understand the copper coating as serving an aesthetic function. Shiny metal is prettier than dull wood. Or, one could understand it as functional. After all, the acacia wood must need protection from the continuous flames of the sacrifices.
Midrash Tanhuma does not seem to think that those answers are sufficient. It pictures Moses asking God if the copper coating will hold up to the heat of God’s fire. His question is full of anxiety, almost as if to say, “Can the precautions we take possibly be effective? How can our physical existence bear contact with the Divine?”. The Almighty rebukes Moses. Surely God can do anything, including sustain the metal and wood of God’s own altar. What then is the purpose of the copper coating?
“In order to atone for the brazen brow (i.e., Israel’s shamelessness), as it is said: And your neck is an iron sinew, and your brow copper (Isa. 48:4)” answers the Midrash.
The system of sacrifices has the potential to be a conduit between humanity and the Divine. It also carries the danger of human arrogance. The Kohanim and Leviim who work in the temple could see themselves as a holier class of people. Those bringing sacrifices might see their sin offering as the source of forgiveness. Too easily can the forms of religious ritual become a replacement for the internal work of honing ourselves to be godly people. The altar’s copper coating reminds us that humility and self-reflection are the traits which allow us to create contact with God.
Daniel Graber is a 5th year rabbinical student at the Jewish Theological Seminary, ande the rabbinic intern at the Oceanside Jewish Center in NY.
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