Once there was a millionaire who had a collection of live alligators, which he kept in a pool at the back of his mansion.

He decided to throw a huge party, during which he announced, “My dear guests, I have a proposition to everyone here. I will give one million dollars to whoever can swim across this pool full of alligators and emerge unharmed!”

As soon as he finished his last word, they all heard a large splash. A man was in the pool swimming as fast as he could! They cheered him on as he paddled at a furious pace. Astonishingly, he made it to the other side unscathed.

“That was incredible!” exclaimed the millionaire. “Fantastic! I didn't think it could be done! Well, I must keep my end of the bargain. How would you like me to pay you?”

“Listen,” replied the swimmer, “I don't want your money. I just want to get my hands on the nitwit who pushed me into that water!”

Sometimes all it takes is for someone or something to give us that push, and only then do we discover that we can actually hack it.

Inverted Construction

Parshat Pekudei wraps up the book of Exodus, detailing the events around the inauguration of the Tabernacle. All of the many parts and pieces we have read about over the past few weeks are finally put into place, and Moses himself oversees the project’s completion.

With the structure erect, Moses’s attention turns to the courtyard, the busiest part of the Tabernacle, where the sacrificial altar stood. Moses first sets up the altar, offers sacrifices upon it, and only afterwards does he put up the curtains around it to mark the space of the courtyard. Take a look:

The altar of the burnt offering he placed in front of the entrance of the Mishkan of the Tent of Meeting, and he offered up the burnt offering . . . He set up the courtyard all around the Mishkan and the altar, and he put up the screen at the entrance to the courtyard; and Moses completed the work.1

Essentially, Moses did things backwards. He first put up the inside and only thereafter erected the enclosure.

Would you set up your bed in a construction site, sleep on it, and only then build the walls around it? That’s absurd, of course. So why did Moses effectively do the same thing?

In fact, Betzalel, the main contractor of the entire Tabernacle, took issue with Moses about this very matter. When he heard about this, he pushed back, “It is common practice to first make a house and then to put furniture into it!”2

“Common Practice” isn’t Always Common

Therein lies the answer: Betzalel was right that “common practice” dictates “structure first, contents second.” The thing is that metaphorically speaking, “common practice” is precisely what Moses was trying to bypass.

You see, “common practice” is the mentality that demands proper order and a natural progression. If you want to approach something as large and spiritual as building a house for G‑d, you must first work on the big, structural things and build from the ground up. Once you have that squared away, you can progress to the more euphoric and intense specific practices such as offering a sacrifice to G‑d.

But to go backwards? To jump straight to the intense stuff before squaring away the basics? That’s crazy. That’s just not how things work.

But Moses knew that “common practice” isn’t always the way to go. Normative methods are, well, normal, but sometimes, normal doesn’t work. The close and fervent connection to G‑d achieved through the sacrificial rite cannot be the exclusive property of those who build elaborate structures of sanctity, i.e., those who check all their spiritual boxes.

So, Moses torpedoed the process and offered sacrifices even before the walls even went up, thereby broadcasting the message that you don’t always need to be a spiritual professional to be close to G‑d.

Bucking “Common Practice”

Let’s talk about it in more practical terms.

Many parents take a “common practice” approach with their children. “I don’t want to overwhelm them with anything over the top or too intense, so I’ll leave it to them to discover religion slowly, without pressure.” And so, they are shielded from anything their parents deem too extreme or fanatic.

Teach them some Hebrew, a little about Israel, and rituals around the holidays. That’s nice. Who doesn’t like apples in honey and Afikomen treats? That’s great.

But asking them to pray at age 10? To not watch TV for a whole Shabbat every week? To really not eat non-kosher candy? Relax, let’s take it easy, they’re just kids! Let’s not scare them off with too much too soon.

You’re forgiven for thinking so. But Moses teaches us that sometimes, you must buck the “common practice” and leapfrog a couple steps. Pile it on early without worry. On the contrary, doing so will ensure that even when the walls of whatever holiness they have come down, they’ll still be strong with the values and passion you imbued within them before the walls went up.

And as it is with children, so it is with us. Who wants to go crazy and bite off more than they can chew? You think to yourself, “I’ve got to take this slowly and methodically. This is a process, and I shouldn’t take on too much too soon.”

You’re right and you’re wrong. You’re right on an average day. But not every day is average. Sometimes, you must get on the express train. Don’t wait until you’ve built an entire building of Jewish infrastructure before signing on for that all-night Shavuot learnathon, getting your own pair of tefillin, or committing to monthly mikvah visits.

Taking the cue from Moses, who offered a sacrifice even before the walls went up: You, too, can take the plunge right now. You’re not ready? That’s OK—the Jews in the desert weren’t either. Moses did what he did anyway—and it worked.

Be like Moses. It’ll work for you, too.3