The Strong Hand and Outstretched Arm of Man
Rabbi Shawn Fields-Meyer
Milken Community High School
Torah Portion: Terumah , Exodus 25:1-27:19
Haftarah Portion: I Kings 5:26-6:13
The Israelites had seen it all. They had suffered physically, spiritually and psychologically in the dark night of slavery. They had survived the plagues that had rained terror down on Egypt. They had witnessed the extraordinary battle between the powerful, cruel king of Egypt and the invisible, morally demanding God of their ancestors. They had walked out of Egypt free, exhausted, elated, excited. They had faced their fears as they stood first between the oncoming enemy and the Sea, and then between miraculously split walls of water. They had received the Commandments, eaten the manna and drunk water which flowed from a rock.
This was a people who had come to expect the unexpected. It was also a people who had developed a particular kind of learned helplessness: their food, their water, their direction - all aspects of their highly unlikely survival – all came from God.
As they entered into the wilderness, this was a people who now needed to change course, to go from slavery to autonomy, from a sense of shock to a sense of security. In addition to giving them freedom, and sustenance, and protection, and laws, God gave Israel another gift: a spiritual center. But in getting that spiritual center - the Mishkan, or Tabernacle - they received something else, as well: an opportunity to grow more independent.
The very first words of Parashat Teruma tell us of this opportunity:
God spoke unto Moses, saying:
Tell the Israelite people to bring Me gifts; you shall accept gifts for Me from every person whose heart so moves him. (Exodus 25:1-2)
These gifts, in turn, would be donated to the community-building project of the Mishkan. In other words, God was telling the people that he needed their contributions - physical contributions, at first. But perhaps God was looking for even more than that.
In light of these verses, Rabbi Menachem Mendel Schneerson, the late Lubavitcher Rebbe, explained that this teaches us that God does not want to do all the work - not because God couldn't do all the work, but because that's just not God's point. Rabbi Schneerson says that this teaches about the interconnectedness between God and us:
Why was man's activity necessary? Because G-d's intent is that the revelation of His Presence be internalized within the world, becoming part of the fabric of its existence... When, by contrast, the dwelling of G-d is built by man - himself part of the material world - the nature of the materials used is elevated. This enables G-d's presence to be revealed within these entities while they continue to exist within their own content. (In the Garden of the Torah, Volume I)
To build the Mishkan, God needed the participation of the Israelites. And still does. The Torah suggests here that God needs us to participate in the work of holiness. It is not just for God to make the world Godly; we, too, bring this about. God's presence comes through human interaction. We see this manifested every day. Each time we reach out a hand to support another, we are activating God's hands on earth; every time we dig into our pockets or purses to provide sustenance to a needy person, we reach into God's well of generosity and support; each time we offer patient counsel, or suppress a harsh criticism, or ask a question that can be heard - in those moments, we represent God in the world.
Perhaps that is ultimately the reason why God asks for contributions. There is a power in giving, but that power ultimately has nothing to do with the material - the gold or the silver or the dollars or the cents. The power is in the giving itself, because generosity is a way of bringing heaven down to earth - and br¿??


