Parashat Pekudei: The Crisis of Trust in Leadership

The crisis of trust in leadership during times of distress is a recurring theme in Jewish history. Today, as trust erodes and the sense of abandonment grows, the lesson of Pekudei resounds powerfully: without transparency and accountability, the covenant between leadership and the people fractures.

The connection to Nisan, the month of redemption, which begins in just a few days, confronts us with the same question time and again: What kind of leadership is necessary for true liberation?

"These are the accounts of the Tabernacle ( Mishkan, the Tabernacle of Testimony) Mishkan HaEdut, which were recorded by the command of Moses, through the service of the Levites, under the direction of Ithamar, son of Aaron the priest. Bezalel, son of Uri, son of Hur, from the tribe of Judah, carried out all that the Lord had commanded Moses. And with him was Oholiab, son of Ahisamach, from the tribe of Dan, a craftsman, a designer, and an embroiderer in blue, purple, and crimson yarn and fine linen.” Shemot (Exodus) 38:21-23

Pekudei closes the book of Shemot with a detailed account of the materials used in the construction of the Mishkan. Moses, the undisputed leader of the people of Israel, presents a meticulous report of every piece of gold, silver, and copper collected and used. This act is not merely administrative; it is a declaration of principles: a leader must be accountable to the people. Trust is not something taken for granted; it is built through transparency. Moses is the ultimate paradigm of a leader who not only governs but also renders an account.

Pekudei reminds us that true leadership is not measured by the power it wields but by the integrity with which it serves. Moses, the greatest of our leaders, did not need to justify his actions before God, yet he did so before the people. Moses understood that a leader cannot demand blind trust; he must earn it through actions. Leadership is not just a technical matter of resource management but an ethical obligation to answer to those one governs. Even the most upright leader must be accountable.

I have always been moved by this definition: A divine dwelling, that is what the word Mishkan truly means. A dwelling of testimony, or for testimony… What does this noun, which qualifies or describes the dwelling for God in the desert, really mean? I still do not fully know, though I find it deeply meaningful.

In several places in the Torah, the Mishkan is called the Tabernacle of Testimony, and in the opening of our parashah, this is the first time it is referred to as such. But why? Why is the Mishkan called the Tabernacle of Testimony?

Many commentators have linked the Tabernacle of Testimony to the Tablets of Testimony.

Rabbi Abraham Ibn Ezra (12th century) understood it as follows:

“The Tabernacle of Testimony refers to the Tablets.”

That is, it indicates the place where the Tablets of the Testimony were kept, a purely physical reference to what was housed within the Sanctuary.

Rashi (11th century), on the other hand, connected testimony to something else entirely:

"The Tabernacle of Testimony: a testimony for Israel that the Holy One, blessed be He, forgave them for the sin of the golden calf, for His Divine Presence dwells among them.”

A dwelling in which God reappears within the people as an act of forgiveness. A testimony to a bond in need of restoration. God never truly left. He returned with His presence among the people, even after they had strayed from the path.

The Midrash Tanchuma, citing Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai, teaches us that this space is a testimony to the union between heaven and earth to the possibility, or the aspiration, that these two dimensions need not be in opposition.

In summary, it is a testimony because:

It houses the Tablets of Testimony, the divine gift of the word of God to the people of Israel.

It is a symbol of forgiveness, of turning the page, of realizing that though the wrong choice was made, love prevails over anger and allows for the creation of a space to reunite.

It embodies the sacred meeting point where heaven and earth, the divine and the human, mystery and reason, spirit and matter come together becoming a transcendent testimony, a gateway to freedom, faith, and hope.

Believe me, I still do not fully understand what the Tabernacle of Testimony truly signifies. Edut, testimony. It comes from the word "ed", meaning witness.

"Atem edai". "You are My witnesses," said the Lord (Isaiah 43:10).

I align myself with the prophet’s words. Each of us is a witness to God’s presence in history when we follow His word, when we choose to preserve what the Mishkan safeguarded, when we refuse to sink into vengeance and instead seek paths of reconciliation, and when we commit to living a meaningful life, one in which, at times, the fullness of our experience makes it difficult to distinguish between heaven and earth.

I am not speaking of monumental deeds, but of those small sanctuaries where we embrace the sacred task before us, should we choose to accept it: to transform our spaces into living sanctuaries of testimony, a testament to a life of deep purpose.

But this alone is not enough. The personal dimension requires another: the communal, the societal.

Last Shabbat, we learned that Congregation or Community in Hebrew is Kahal or Kehila.

This Shabbat, our word is Pekudei, and another word of the same root: Edah—which also means Congregation.

We will become an Edah, a people, a humanity if we choose to take an active role in this historical moment.

To be witnesses, rather than looking the other way.

To defend our ideals.

To contribute to a just world.

To bear testimony through our actions, standing up for life, prioritizing love.

Mishkan HaEdut, the Tabernacle of Testimony, truly fulfills its name when it makes room for all those who choose the sacred over the corrupt, connection over hatred, meaning over convenience.

We are now concluding the Book of Shemot, the Book of Names.

It takes ALL the names to inhabit it once more. All the stories. All the visions.

We must call ourselves by name once again, and name those who are missing…one by one.

May this Shabbat, as we complete our reading of Sefer Shemot, help us find clarity in these dark times, and may the month of Nisan bring not only redemption but also the restoration of trust and hope.

Shabbat Shalom,

Rabbi Gustavo Geier