Parshas Terumah 5786
I once heard Rav Benzion Twersky, the noted Rav and scion of the Milwaukee Twerski dynasty, reflect on a special trip he made in his youth to the Agudah Convention. He was a young yeshiva bachur learning in New York, and, with the convention being held in the area, attendance at the convention would mean a rare opportunity to spend Shabbos with his father, Rav Michel Twerski, who was slated to speak.
Rav Benzion recalled standing in one of the convention rooms and receiving a tap on his shoulder. He turned around, looked up, and came face to face with Rav Yaakov Kamenetsky. “Young man,” asked Rav Yaakov, “Would you mind making me a cup of tea?”
The young Rav Twersky was on cloud nine. The chance to make a tea for the Gadol Hador! That he was chosen out of everyone there! That it was his shoulder the Rosh Yeshiva decided to tap! He felt special, privileged, chosen.
And so should we.
In requesting donations from the Jewish People to amass the funds needed to construct the Mishkan, it seems Hashem was, surprisingly, looking for takers rather than givers. Issuing the order, the pasuk records, “וְיִקְחוּ־לִי תְּרוּמָה מֵאֵת כּל־אִישׁ אֲשֶׁר יִדְּבֶנּוּ לִבּוֹ תִּקְחוּ אֶת־תְּרוּמָתִי
—And they shall take a donation for Me. From every individual whose heart is moved to donate shall you take My donation.”
Why are these funds taken rather than given? If the pasuk calls for the participation of those self-motivated donate, those spurred by a spirit of voluntary generosity, why adopt the posture of tax collectors needing to seize assets against the will of the public? The people are happy to give. Why the directive to take?
The Alshich answers with an unusual halacha applicable to the laws of Kiddushin, the first stage of halachic marriage. Though it is traditionally a ring that is given from husband to wife, in truth, any object of value may be presented. At its core, Kiddushin is a simple legal transaction, and in exchange for the object presented, a woman offers her husband an exclusive relationship with her.
It goes without saying, then, that halachic marriage has not been affected if the transaction was reversed. On a biblical level, a man may marry more than one wife. Kiddushin demands the wife offering exclusive rights to her husband, and the husband offering a gift to his wife. A gift from bride to groom is not halachically valid.
With one exception: An “Adam chashuv,” a man of renown. If the bride is set to marry someone of particular prominence, even if she were to give him a gift, rather than the other way around, she is still married. The reason deals with the psychology behind why fans will sometimes bring gifts or bouquets of flowers to concerts to present their favorite singers. Surely the artist can just buy these items themselves if they really wanted them. But deep down there’s some measure of satisfaction the fan has in knowing that they’d been noticed by the celebrity. They fall asleep that night with a smile across their face, knowing that their bouquet of flowers adorns the coffee table of someone they idolize.
In other words, the monetary gift is not the only item of value being presented. The satisfaction and sheer joy that the fan receives, actually transforms them from giver to recipient. So much so, that that joy is halachically significant in the context of Kiddushin. A woman who presents a trinket to the “Adam chashuv” groom, is actually receiving from him an amount of satisfaction and delight sufficiently quantifiable to affect the transaction that is Kiddushin. She offers her hand in marriage, he offers her the thrill of accepting the gift she offered.
This was the sensation that Rav Twerski felt as he prepared a cup of tea for Rav Yaakov Kaminetsky. Sure, he was giving. Giving of his time and energy, all in the interest of providing for another. Yet what he received in return was far greater. That Rav Yaakov asked him for a tea! Was ready to accept his tea!
Later in life, Rav Twerski realized that the entire experience was a mere echo of something far greater. The tap he felt on his shoulder when Rav Yaakov needed a cup of tea was actually nothing new. Hadn’t he been tapped on the shoulder the moment he woke up that morning?
“Young man, would you please say Modeh Ani?” “Young man, would you please put on tzitzis?” “Young man, would you please put on tefilin? Would you do that for Me?”
Why is a voluntary act of giving framed by the word “V’yikchu—And they shall take,” rather than “V’yitnu—And they shall give”? Because, explains the Alshich, sometimes when you give you actually take. A fan presenting some flowers to a megastar. A woman offering a small give to an “Adam chashuv.” Or someone who’s felt a heavenly tap on the shoulder, followed by the request, “Young man, would you please build Me a Mishkan?”
Over the course of the average day, hundreds if not thousands of halachos demand our effort and attention. And it is no small sacrifice. But behind every one of those sacrifices, there is a tap on the shoulder. One that should leave us feeling flattered and fill us with immense pride. That out of all the people on earth, Hashem chose us. Chose us for His davening and His Torah, chose us to keep Shabbos and keep kosher, chose us to give tzadakah and to build His Mishkan.
Yes, we are expected to sacrifice. But if done correctly, we’ll get far more than we give.