As I’ve said more than once, I often find it difficult to wrap my brain around this part of the Torah. The last third or so of Shemot, of which Parashat Pekudei is the capstone, covers in exacting detail the materials, building instructions, and actual fabrication of the Mishkan, the Israelites’ desert sanctuary. I tend to glaze over at the seemingly endless litany of measurements and I just can’t visualize how all of the pieces are meant to come together, even though I know how the Mishkan was thought to have looked. (I’m also not amazing at following Ikea instructions, so at least I’m consistent.)
Fortunately, there are flashes of emotional depth, of a narrative arc, of moments of theological significance that keep me afloat as I study these sections year after year. Every so often, however, I see something new in the part of the text that doesn’t usually capture my attention, something that feels meaningful and resonant, something that can be brought to bear on how our Jewish community functions today. A few weeks ago, when we read Parashat Ki Tisa, we reviewed the census and related flat half-shekel tax that the people paid as part of the process for constructing the Mishkan. This tax was not a voluntary donation, but a required commitment, and one that it was reasonable to ask of the people. Even when correcting for inflation, as it were, half a shekel wasn’t a ton of money. It was an amount that most people would be able to afford. The fact that it was a flat tax is also significant. Regardless of each individual’s financial means, everyone expressed their sense of obligation to the community by contributing in equal measure. Despite the fact that we make a pretty big deal about this tax - it’s also the foundation of our special special Maftir reading for Shabbat Shekalim, which we read only four weeks ago - what happened after this tax was collected gets lost in the reams of details that describe the construction of the Mishkan. We often give much more attention to the voluntary nature of the primary donations that helped bring about the Mishkan. The majority of the precious materials that were needed for the project were willingly donated by the people. It’s easy to see how the cache of silver resulting from the half-shekel tax might recede into the background when there’s even more silver, along with plenty of gold, copper, and precious stones in the mix. We only come back to the fate of these half shekels in Parashat Pekudei. We read (Exodus 38:27) that this silver was used to create the sockets for the outer boards of the Mishkan. As a portable structure, the Mishkan had no permanent foundation. The wooden boards that comprised its outer walls needed to be fitted into free-standing sockets to keep them stable each time the Mishkan was erected. We already learned that these sockets were to be made of silver. This is the first time we hear that the silver for the sockets came from the obligatory donations made by the people. When we consider the construction of the Mishkan, we often search for ways that this ancient structure, reflective of a very different vision of religion than our own, can teach us about how to construct and nurture our communities today. This year, in my reading of the parashah, I see that lesson in the silver sockets made from the proceeds of the half-shekels. The Mishkan could not stand firm without its silver sockets. Those sockets were forged out of the shared commitment of the people to support the community. Our community cannot stand firm without a similar commitment from our people. We are a shul that prides itself on the various ways our members demonstrate their commitment to support our community. That support comes in many forms, and when we talk about ourselves, both within and outside the community, we describe Chevrei Tzedek as a community of people who show our commitment to the community through the various ways we volunteer. We sponsor Kiddushim, take on leadership roles in Shabbat services and in our committees, plan and run meaningful community events. Our shul is blessed to be planning and hosting a Green Mitzvahthon, a tremendous whole weekend event whose reach extends well beyond our particular community. The committee planning the Green Mitzvahthon has been hard at work organizing the davening, meals, learning opportunities, and environmental fair that will take place on May 2-4. We are grateful for all their efforts and excited to benefit from all of their work. The committee’s work continues, and what we now most need is for our community of volunteers to become the silver sockets for this unique Shabbaton, to help out both in the last rush of planning before the weekend and on the weekend itself. Over the next few weeks, you’ll continue to hear about the various volunteer opportunities, the roles that we need filled in order to make the Green Mitzvahthon a smashing success. Please respond to the call for help by giving your “half-shekel” and offering your time and presence to support the work of our community. Shabbat shalom.
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