Last week’s parsha, Mishpatim, marked a turning point in our relationship with Hashem. After witnessing awe-inspiring miracles — the plagues, the splitting of the sea, and the giving of the Torah — Bnei Yisrael are now called to action. The focus shifts from divine revelation to human responsibility: We received 53 mitzvot covering all aspects of life, to shape a just and sacred society. Now it is time to get to work.

This week, Parshat Terumah introduces the next step in this process: the command to build the Mishkan, the portable sanctuary where Hashem’s presence will dwell: “They shall make for Me a sanctuary, and I will dwell among them” (Shemot 25:8). The instructions for its construction are astonishingly detailed, from the dimensions of the Aron to the materials of the curtains. And yet, despite this precision, contributions must be voluntary: “From every person whose heart moves him you shall take My offering” (25:2).

This raises several questions: Why does an infinite God desire a physical dwelling? Why are so many verses dedicated to its construction? And why does Hashem insist that its creation be both precisely measured and freely given?

The Purpose of the Mishkan: Human Action in Divine Presence

The sheer volume of verses dedicated to the Mishkan is striking — 450 in total, compared to just 31 for the entire creation of the world. Nechama Leibowitz explains why: The main point isn’t how the world was created, but what mankind chooses to do with it.

In other words, the Torah devotes more space to human participation in sanctity than to divine creation itself. This helps answer our first question: The Mishkan is not about what God needs, but about what we need — a tangible way to bring holiness into our world through action.

Sefer HaChinuch expresses this beautifully: “The heart follows the action.” We become attached to what we invest in. The detailed work of building the Mishkan is not just a logistical necessity — it is a spiritual exercise, transforming the builders themselves. This explains why, after receiving a long list of mitzvot last week, Hashem immediately gives us a hands-on project to engage with holiness in a concrete way.

Balancing Structure and Personal Expression

This brings us to another paradox: Why such precise, technical instructions, if the Mishkan is about personal giving?

Rashi, quoting Midrash Tanchuma, notes that the Mishkan is modeled after the divine blueprint of creation. Just as Hashem created the world with order and structure, so too must the Mishkan reflect that precision. It is not merely an expression of devotion, but a microcosm of creation, a way for human beings to emulate divine order.

Nechama Leibowitz expands on this: Structure does not stifle devotion — it channels it. Without guidance, passion can be unfocused or even dangerous, as seen in the sin of the Golden Calf. The detailed instructions of the Mishkan ensure that each individual’s contributions build toward a unified, sacred goal, rather than dissolving into chaotic personal expression.

Rav Soloveitchik, in The Emergence of Ethical Man, adds another layer: The Mishkan teaches that holiness is not confined to abstract thought, but must be actualized in the real world. The infinite God, who transcends space, chooses to manifest His presence in a finite structure. This is a profound message: Holiness is not distant — it permeates our daily lives when we create space for it.

The Portability of Holiness

Another crucial feature of the Mishkan is its portability. Unlike the Beit Hamikdash, which was permanently rooted in Jerusalem, the Mishkan was dismantled and rebuilt throughout the Israelites’ journey.

Rav Shimshon Raphael Hirsch sees this as a lesson: Our connection to Hashem is not tied to a single place, but to our willingness to carry His presence with us. Spirituality is not about finding one fixed point of holiness, but about continuously creating it in our lives. Just as the Mishkan was constantly reassembled, so too must we continually renew our commitment to Hashem.

Dr. Tamar Ross, in her writings on religious experience, argues that personal religious expression must exist within a halakhic framework. The Mishkan exemplifies this balance: Individuals choose what and how much to contribute, yet the structure itself is defined by Hashem. This model of obedience and creativity teaches that divine service is not about rigid legalism or unrestrained emotion, but about integrating both to build a sacred society.

How We Build a Dwelling for God Today

The Mishkan’s message is enduring: When we give of ourselves — our time, our resources, our hearts — we create space for God to dwell among us.

Today, this is poignantly pertinent. With the image of Shiri Bibas shielding her children still weighing heavily on our hearts, with thousands gathering in shared grief, and with a nation standing together in quiet resilience, we are reminded that holiness is not only found in the walls of a sanctuary — it is created through acts of unity, courage, and compassion.

Hashem does not dwell in structures of gold and acacia wood alone. He dwells in the spaces we create for Him — through kindness, through faith, through inclusivity, and through the sanctification of life itself.

Shabbat Shalom ~ Chodesh Tov ~

Besorot Tovot ~ Am Yisrael Chai