This week at school, we celebrated the beginning of the month of Adar, or more specifically, Adar alef, the first Adar. This year being a Jewish leap year, we get an extra month of Adar, which, considering that Adar is thought of as a month of joy, can be considered a little gift from the Jewish calendar. As we do each month, we announced a new midah, character trait, of focus for our community, the midah of hesed, loving-kindness. One day I asked students to spend a few minutes preparing to begin their morning tefilah, prayer, by reflecting on the phrase from Psalm 89, “olam chesed yibaneh, the world is built on loving-kindness”. Some students wrote, some drew, some thought quietly. Each reflected in their own way and with their own perspective, and many chose to share their reflections with me. The collection of their outpouring of hesed fills me with joy and hope, and I feel moved to share some of it with you, so keep scrolling to see some of what they created.
As I read this week’s parsha, I think it is fitting that our month of hesed begins with parshat trumah. “Speak to the children of Israel; they shall bring me contributions, from every one whose heart moves them to give, you shall take my offerings.” This week’s Torah reading consists of the beginning of the instructions for building the mishkan, the portable sanctuary that will travel with the Israelites through the desert. This space is built to exacting specifications, out of the finest materials. But the instruction to gather those materials indicates that they must be given out of the generosity of the givers’ hearts, that the whole community is invited, not required but invited, to give. This invitation is followed by a long list of materials that can be given, gold, silver, copper, cloths of various colors, jewels of various kinds, etc. Whatever gifts each person has to bring, they are accepted, valued, and incorporated into the project of creating the mishkan.
In this parsha, and in many other texts throughout the Torah and beyond, two words are used interchangeably to indicate the physical structure of the sanctuary. The first, mikdash, most often used to mean the permanent structure of the holy temple, literally translates as holy space. The other term, mishkan, more often used for the portable tabernacle referred to in our parsha, translates literally as dwelling place. The first mention of this space, which occurs in this parsha, and may be my favorite verse in the Torah, uses both terms. “V’asu li mikdash, v’shachanti b’tocham, let them make me a holy place, and I will dwell amidst them”. This verse has been read in a multitude of ways over the years is rich with opportunities for interpretation. Here, though, I’ll just highlight that it brings together the two terms. The goal of creating a holy space, is to allow God to dwell among us. And here, I believe, lies the key to why each bit of material for its construction must be given with a heart full of generosity. The physicality of the structure concretizes the invitation of those who build it.
The people, in this parsha, bring what they have to offer, and build from the communal collection a holy space. But how, our rabbis wondered, did they get all the materials that they offered? They may have brought some from Egypt, but did they really have all they needed? (In fact they had more than they needed. As we’ll read in a later parsha, they brought so much they had to be told to stop bringing.) One midrash suggests that along with the manna that fell each morning from heaven to feed the people, jewels and precious stones fell, allowing them to gather the best to donate to the building project. I find this image is so powerful! God, here, is providing not only the invitation, but also the raw materials to give the people the opportunity to create the structure that is in itself an invitation to God to dwell among them.
The mishkan, in the view of another well known midrash, is thought of as a sort of microcosm, a parallel to God’s work of creation which makes room for humans to dwell in God’s presence. The mishkan is a work of human hands that allows God to dwell closely among us. The request for whole-hearted contributions, allows the people to build it out of hesed, loving-kindness, just as we imagine God builds the world of hesed. And though we have not had the formal structure of the mishkan for thousands of years, the invitation to contribute whole-heartedly to building communities of hesed, in which God’s presence can dwell among us, remains open. Let us remember, especially in this extra month of joy, to seek out and gather the precious materials that allow us to build that microcosm.
Hodesh tov, happy Adar and Shabbat Shalom!