Enhancing Your Home with Sacred Silliness

MyLife Essay Contest

G-d said to the Children of Israel, “You shall build me a Mikdash, a sanctuary, and I will dwell in them”. The obvious question is, the verse should have read … build me a sanctuary and I will dwell in it. The Rebbe explained in his inaugural discourse Basi Legani: build me a sanctuary, G-d says, and I will dwell not only within the sanctuary, but within the hearts of the people. “In them“.

When I was a child, one of my favorite games was Chosson (bridegroom). Now that I think of it, we probably should have called it Aufruf — the calling up of the bridegroom to the Torah on the Sabbath before his wedding. My cousin and I saved all the nuts with which we played on Passover (during the holiday of Passover it is custom to play with hazelnuts as if they were marbles) and then take turns at being called up. Whoever’s turn it was got to use a blanket as a prayer-shawl to protect themselves, and then had to chant a few lines from the Torah. When they got to the end of the reading, they made the traditional after-blessing, and the other would bomb them with the nuts as if they were the candies with which we shower the bridegroom. I guess there’s room to criticize such a game, but we laughed and laughed, and had more fun than you can imagine. To us, the game felt holy.

The Rebbe’s teaching on the above verse perhaps applies not only to the Children of Israel building a Temple, but also to regular people building a mundane sanctuary—a home for their family. Build a home, and your family will dwell in that structure, but also, that structure will dwell in the hearts of the family. The children will take that home wherever they go.

What kind of home should we build knowing it will be in our children’s hearts forever? A Mishkan is a place of divine worship. Should the home we build be a place of study and prayer? Temples are ornate. Temples are austere. Should our homes be richly decorated and quiet? The Israelites brought sacrifices at the Mishkan. Should our homes be open to the public, and bustling with activity? Should our “temple” be full of exacting laws governing all aspects of decorum and conduct?

Of the many facets of the Tabernacle built by the Children of Israel, during their 40 years in the Sinai, the Rebbe focuses on the Mishkan’s beams, which by G-d’s word were made of Shittim wood. The Rebbe relates Shittim to Shtus, which is folly, or silliness. The Talmud tells about one Rav Shmuel bar Itzhak who juggled myrtle branches at weddings to entertain the brides. Rav Shmuel’s behavior embarrassed his colleagues. The old man’s cavorting was unbecoming, they said. By the end of the story, the sages came to understand that Rav Shmuel’s myrtle, his apparent silliness, had pleased G-d, distinguishing Rav Shmuel from all other sages. The Rebbe concludes that we too must live our lives with, and that our Mishkan must contain, the folly of holiness.

Some parents return from work after a long day and want their children to be quiet. Some parents labor to create a richly appointed home and don’t let the children sit on the “good” furniture. Some parents’ primary concern is that the children learn responsibility and diligently do chores. Some parents only concern themselves with their children’s education and religious obligations and make sure that the children have studied all they need to study, and prayed all they need to pray. They criticize and pester until their children’s behavior reaches some (unattainable) standard. Some parents seem ready to sacrifice their children on the altar of outward appearances.

Then there are parents who also want to keep the house clean and healthy, they too want their children to study and pray, and they want their children to learn responsibility, to be considerate of the neighbors, but pervading all, is an environment of joyfulness and even silliness. The father works all day, but when he comes home he greets his children. He plays with games, puzzles, and dolls, reads stories, sings songs, and in general creates an environment of love. The mother’s busy schedule needs no elaboration, but she too makes time to “be silly” with her children.

Families that spend time together create their own brand of Mishugas, zaniness or Shtus, which creates closeness and identity like nothing else. When the home is a place that children love to be, the praying and studying, and helping out, and good behavior and respect flow naturally. The apparent Shtus time is not mere foolishness, but foolishness of holiness. This is the Mikdash you want to build. A home that teaches children how to live. Children who are like solid upright beams. A sanctuary in the heart of each family member which they can take wherever they go.