The Code and the Tent

In the desert, the people asked for a temple. God gave them a blueprint for a tent. Not a fortress. Not a tower. A mobile sanctuary — carried on shoulders, stitched with meaning. They called it the Mishkan. Every thread, a prayer. Every beam, intention. It wasn’t the gold that made it holy — it was the way they built it.
Thousands of years later, we build again. Smart homes. Smart cities. Smart machines. Everywhere, intelligence. But the question remains: where is the presence?

A wise coder once said: “You can program the lights to turn on when you enter the room. But can you make the room care that you’re there?”
The moral? The Mishkan was never about walls. It was about how you build — with rhythm, with reverence, with the soul in mind.

So if you’re building code, or community, or the next big thing in AI — don’t just ask: does it work? Ask: does it hold presence?
Because sometimes, the sacred isn’t in the system — but in the way you shape it.