This parsha is about gifts and building.
“Tell the Israelite people to bring Me gifts; you shall accept gifts for Me from every person whose heart is so moved.”
The Torah Study group was puzzled. How could this be a commandment, something you must do and still be something that is a gift from your heart? What relevance is it today? Why does G-d need gifts.
Let’s start with a basic question. What is a gift? something that comes from the heart. a thing given willingly to someone without payment; a present. a natural ability or talent.
We know the phrase, “It is better to give than to receive.” The Shaker hymn teaches:
“Tis a gift to be simple, ‘tis a gift to be free;
‘Tis a gift to come down where we all ought to be;
And when we find ourselves in the place just right,
And will be in the valley of Love and Delight.”
In December’s Town and Country magazine, a gift that showed up unexpectedly on our doorstep, it tells us that giving actually changes the brain chemistry for the good and we experience joy. If, and only if, we find the right gift for the right person.
Our text goes on to give us a very specific list of what our G-d apparently wants:
“And these are the gifts that you shall accept from them: gold, silver, and copper;
blue, purple, and crimson yarns, fine linen, goats’ hair;
tanned ram skins, dolphin skins, and acacia wood;
oil for lighting, spices for the anointing oil and for the aromatic incense;
lapis lazuli and other stones for setting, for the ephod and for the breastpiece.”
These are the things that the Israelites need to build a mishkan, a place for G-d to dwell.
וְעָ֥שׂוּ לִ֖י מִקְדָּ֑שׁ וְשָׁכַנְתִּ֖י בְּתוֹכָֽם׃
And let them make Me a sanctuary that I may dwell among them.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2W_XxCh2b30
Note the text very carefully here. G-d will dwell among them not among it. G-d will be with us. In the spaces between us. Perhaps this is why G-d needs gifts. It is the I-Thou relationship that Martin Buber talks about. Relationship is a gift.
Rabbi Matt Berkowitz talks about it this way:
“Immediately, from the title of this parashah, an exegetical direction is hinted at. At the heart of the word t’rumah, translated as “offering,” one discovers the Hebrew root meaning “lifting up” or “high.” God speaks to Moses saying, “Tell the Israelite people to bring Me gifts (t’rumah); you will accepts gifts (t’rumati) for Me from every person whose heart so moves him” (Exodus 25:2). To make a gift, or in more sacred language, to give tzedakah, literally involves an act of lifting one’s eyes and heart higher. One must become selfless, transcending one’s self and envisioning a reality of tikkun olam. That is precisely what God demands of the Israelites in this parashah—they must set their sights higher, and doing so will not only elevate their own souls but more important, will bring God’s Presence into their midst.”
He then went on to teach an important midrash
“A beautiful midrash sparked by this week’s Torah reading sums up the essence of thinking toward the future. Exodus 26:15 states, “and you will make the boards for the Tabernacle.” Midrash Tanhuma queries, “Where did the boards come from? Jacob, our father, planted them. When he came down to Egypt, he said to his sons: MY sons! You are destined to be redeemed from here, and when you are redeemed, the Holy One will tell you that you are to make a Tabernacle for God. Rise up and plant cedars now, so that when God tells you to make a Tabernacle, these cedars will be ready. So Jacob’s sons set to planting cedars, doing just what he had told them. Hence, Torah speaks of ‘the boards,’ the boards their father had arranged should be ready” (Tanhuma T’rumah 9).”
It’s like the story of Honi that we often tell at Tu B’shevat. Honi is surprised to see an old man planting a carob tree. Surely, he will not be able to eat of its fruit. The old man answered, just as my ancestors planted for me, so do I plant for my children and grandchildren.”
That’s what your gifts are doing, planting for the generations yet to come.
There is a cost to building a mishkan, to building a sanctuary, a kehila kedosha, a holy community. Soon we will have Shabbat Shekelim that talks about the half shekel tax, the price of membership. Think of it as the baseline dues. Then there are the gifts of the heart, over and above what you are required to give.
This could be the monetary physical things as the text describes, good, silver, copper and more.
Or gifts that you have. We have a number of people here who go over and above sharing their talents, their gifts with us.
Some examples: Jerry and Robin and the garden. Judi and Barb for organizing the soup kettle. Anita for decorating tables so beautifully for things like the Passover seders. Another Anita for graciously making kugel recently. Ken for the gift of shofar blowing. Stew for the gift of music. Nikki for the gift of baking. Lizzie for her ability to “yad”. Gene for his Mr. Fix-It abilities. Those are just a few of them. Each of you has a gift you can share.
Does G-d need our gifts? Maybe. G-d needs us to be in relationship, with G-d and with each other. The Seer of Lublin, one of the great Hasidic Masters, tells the story of when he was a boy, He used to go to the forest and when his father asked him why, he explained, “I go there to find G-d.” When his father reminded him that G-d is everywhere, the boy answered, “G-d is by I am not.” Yes, G-d is everywhere, as another Hasidic master, rabbi Menachem Mendel of Kotzk reminds us. He asked some learned men who were visiting him, “Where is the dwelling place of God?” Laughing, they responded, “What a thing to ask! Is not the whole earth full of God’s glory?” [Isaiah 6:3] Menachem Mendel then answered his own question: “God dwells wherever we let God in.” (Martin Buber, Tales of the Hasidim: Later Masters, New York: Schocken Books, 1948, p. 277)
The gifts we bring are designed to build something. Something special. Something holy. A sacred place. Yes, for G-d. But for all of us. A place set aside where we can experience the Divine.
More than the physical gifts, it takes coming together. There is community and connection in pulling together. In working toward a common purpose. It is holy. But it takes all of us pulling together. It takes the physical gifts and the spiritual gifts.
Each of us holds our own special treasure, our gift, our set-apart, to help establish a dwelling place for God and for each other. Come build with me.