When Ordinary Things Matter More Than We Think
Exodus 35:1-40:38 (Vayakhel-Pekudei)
Think about your kitchen table. Most days, it’s just the place for coffee, mail, or a quick meal. But sometimes—during a holiday gathering or an honest conversation—it becomes something more. An ordinary table turns into the center of connection, memory, even healing. Same table. Different meaning.
This week’s Torah reading invites us to notice that shift.
“He made the copper basin and its stand from the mirrors of the women who served at the entrance to the Tent of Meeting.”
Exodus 38:8
As the Israelites build the Tabernacle in the wilderness, nearly every detail seems carefully chosen—precious metals, fine fabrics, sacred vessels. Then comes an unexpected material: used copper mirrors, donated by women who had carried them since their years of slavery in Egypt. At first glance, the mirrors seem out of place, associated with appearance and everyday life rather than holiness.
According to the Midrash (Tanchuma, Pekudei 9), even Moses hesitated. Could objects so ordinary really belong in a sacred space? G-d’s response was striking: these mirrors were more precious to Him than anything else.
Why? Because during the darkest years of slavery, these mirrors were not instruments of vanity. They were tools of courage. When despair could easily have taken hold—when bringing children into the world meant risking a future of suffering—the women used these mirrors to restore hope, affection, and life within their families. What looked mundane on the surface carried extraordinary intention beneath it.
The Torah’s message is clear. Holiness is not defined by an object itself, but by how it is used. Jewish teaching explains that while some things are clearly forbidden, most of life is simply permitted—neither sacred nor profane by nature. Its meaning depends on what we bring to it.
Chassidic thought develops this idea further. The physical world is not meant to be escaped, but elevated. Everyday actions—eating, working, speaking—become significant when guided by care and responsibility. The copper mirrors embody that vision: familiar objects transformed into sacred vessels through intention.
Maybe you have something like that in your own home. A favorite mug. A family recipe. A routine chore. None of it looks spiritual. Yet the same object can feel empty one day and deeply meaningful the next, depending on how it’s used.
A smartphone is a good example. It can distract and drain—or it can connect a lonely friend, share encouragement, or help someone learn. The device doesn’t change. The intention does.
This week’s Torah reading gently challenges the idea that holiness lives somewhere else. It suggests that meaning often hides in plain sight, waiting to be revealed through how we handle the ordinary.
This week, try slowing down for just one everyday moment—a meal, a phone call, a routine task. Bring a little more care or gratitude into it. You may discover that the sacred has been there all along, quietly waiting at your own kitchen table.
I wish you a good week and Shabbat Shalom,
Rabbi Yonatan Hambourger