Parshas Terumah 5784
“Rabbi, great drasha. Very inspiring!”
If I was more polite, I’d just say “Thank you.” But sometimes I can’t help myself.
“Really? Inspiring? Tell me, what are you inspired to do?”
The Tanna D’Bei Eliyahu notes that the juxtaposition of this week’s parsha and last week’s is far from coincidental. At the end of Parshas Mishpatim, the Torah presents another version of the experience at Har Sinai, highlighting certain elements that weren’t present in the first telling of the story back in Parshas Yisro. It is there in Parshas Mishpatim that the famous response of the Jewish People to being offered the gift of the Torah is recorded: “נעשה ונשמע—We will do and we will listen.” Before ever knowing what the Torah actually contained, the Jewish People bought in. So convinced were they that Hashem had their best interest in mind, so electrified were they by being in His presence, that they were willing to accept whatever it was that Hashem had to offer.
It is precisely following this acceptance that we find the opening words of this week’s parsha, “ויקחו לי תרומה—Take for me a donation.” The Jewish People have committed themselves to the Torah, to a covenant with Hashem. They are bowled over by His kindness and by His providence and never want to let go or to be let go. And so, now comes the big question: Are they willing to pay for it?
“Na’aseh v’nishma” has become the anthem of the Har Sinai experience. There are moments when we feel ourselves back at that awesome gathering. We are inspired and uplifted. We are certain of Hashem’s Presence and our direct relationship with Him. We are convinced of the value and beauty of living rich spiritual lives. The shiur, the tisch, the shmoneh esrei, the sunset—something moved us to identify more deeply with Hashem and His mitzvos and we commit mentally to doing more.
What happens when we experience that direct contact with Hashem? When we’re inspired? Inspiration itself is worth very little unless we act upon it. Now, not later.
Hashem is with us in moments of inspiration. And whether we hear it or not, He turns to us at those times and whispers three words in our ear: “ויקחו לי תרומה—Make a donation.” Don’t just have these feelings, actualize them. Don’t just be moved, do something. Don’t just say “Na’aseh v’nishma.” Launch the campaign.
There are times when the call of giving terumah is quite literal. When we feel enriched by the Torah provided by our shul, when we gush with pride over the latest d’var Torah our child brought home from school, when we’re moved by the work of a remarkable chessed organization, what we feel can’t be the end of the story. We need to ensure the future of those institutions that do so much good, that bring us such fulfillment, that are helping redeem the world. We need to get out our wallets and give.
But it’s not only institutions that need to be built and supported; we as individuals are no different. Just as feelings of inspiration won’t secure the future for valuable institutions, such feelings are meaningless in securing our own future growth and development. Feelings dissipate frighteningly quickly and do little to change our trajectory.
Feelings are only as valuable as the new practices they spawn. An emotional high and a vague mental commitment—“na’aseh v’nishma”—demands something practical and tangible to be immediately converted into in order to have any staying power.
Inspired to learn more? Make the immediate deposit into your learning. Don’t go to bed until you’ve started that new sefer or scheduled the chavrusa. Inspired towards chesed? Sign up to volunteer. Right now. Because feelings of inspiration that are left un-actualized will soon vanish. If there’s no new habit that’s been installed in your routine, there will be nothing left of the time you spent at Sinai.
Rav Chaim Volozhiner noted that the call to build a Mikdash—a place of sanctity for Hashem’s Presence—is issued with the expression “ועשו לי מקדש ושכנתי בתוכם—And you shall build for Me a Sanctuary and I will dwell within you.” Hashem doesn’t describe that He will dwell “within it,” inside of the Mikdash edifice the people construct, but rather, “בתוכם—within you.” The construction of a Mikdash is an exercise that relates not only to a building, but to the development of the individual Jew, within whom Hashem will come to rest once that human being is transformed into a Mishkan.
The call to make a deposit into the collection plate is made immediately following the spiritual high of Har Sinai. When as individuals we enjoy moments that channel some of that same energy, the response must be the same. Make a deposit. Immediately. Channel the inspiration to change, to grow, to develop into something concrete. Something that will construct a new, better you where the old one once stood. Those feelings of inspiration will evaporate in an instant. How will we ensure that they’ll have a lasting impact?