Many chapters ago in Torahland, the Israelites were directed to create a portable sanctuary that could travel with them in the desert. The past few chapters have been filled with intricate details of the construction process. And this week, in Parashat Vayakhel-Pekudei, we see the culmination of the communal effort to build a home for the Divine. The Israelites show up with two different kinds of gifts that I believe can offer us some wisdom about our own contributions to the massive project of building a more just, sacred, and peaceful world.  

First, the Israelites are invited to bring objects of special significance to donate for decoration. “Anyone whose heart moved them,” we are told, brought extraordinary, beautiful gifts. Think jewelry, cloth, spices, stones… things they had collected, found, or made themselves. These gifts, translated into our modern context, represent our creative abundance. There are times where our work for justice feels inspired and bright with color. When your heart moves you, the work just flows out. This is where we bring our unique talents: poetry, art, cooking, teaching, collecting, healing, community care… These are the times when we can lead marches, organize campaigns, and inspire change. These times are wonderful.

But not every day feels like that. There are some seasons in which it’s all we can do to keep trudging through the thick sludge of malice and ignorance, putting one foot in front of the other. And for those seasons, the Torah offers us another model of contribution. A few chapters later, we are told that each person, regardless of wealth or ability, donated a half-shekel to the construction process. A half-shekel is an amount representing a day or two’s work for a laborer – not insignificant but not debilitating either. This half-shekel can be compared to the boring, repetitive, but deeply necessary work of simply showing up. We vote. We recycle. We buy free-range eggs. We teach our children to share. We quietly, insistently, build a better world. 

The Mishkan was a massive undertaking. No single person brought every material. It was the combination of offerings – some simple and some grandiose – that created a sanctuary where the Divine could dwell. So too, may we each find beauty in what we can do to make this world more whole.