Parshat Pekudei: Unity with Diversity

Parshat Pekudei is the parsha of hitachdut—the bringing together of the parts of the Mishkan. It serves as a model for unity alongside diversity within the Jewish people today.

The Mishkan was the ultimate joint project. Betzalel was its chief architect, Moshe raised it up, and the entire endeavor was commanded by God. Yet, the parsha attributes its completion to Bnei Yisrael: “Thus was completed all the work…The Israelites did so; just as the LORD had commanded Moses, so they did.” Nechama Leibowitz notes that Bnei Yisrael did not physically craft the Mishkan—the artisans did—so why do they receive credit?

The Or Ha-Hayyim explains that since Betzalel was their chosen representative, they shared in the merit of his achievement. Moreover, the command to build the Mishkan was given to the entire nation. Just as the 13 raw materials were distinct yet interdependent in forming the Mishkan, so too, every Jew was bound together in a shared purpose. The Mishkan reminds us that we are one people, despite our differences.

Similarly, the Lubavitcher Rebbe sees the raising of the Mishkan as a lesson in the balance between individuality and collective identity within Am Yisrael. The Mishkan’s holiness emerged only when all its individual pieces were assembled. Likewise, each Jew must recognize their place within the klal—their unique contributions gain meaning when rooted in collective unity.The Mishkan’s message is clear: Every Jew has a role to play in building and strengthening the nation. Bnei Yisrael’s joint building of the Mishkan is a call to Jews today to remember that our diversity can thrive only when based on a foundation of standing and working together. Chazak chazak ve’nitchazek. Shabbat Shalom – Karen Miller Jackson


Parshat Vayakhel: Leadership from the Bottom Up

One of the defining features of the Mishkan’s construction, as described in Parshat Vayakhel, is the collective participation of the entire nation. While Betzalel was appointed by God as chief architect, the contributions of the people were essential. Two midrashic insights into this dynamic between leadership and the people resonate deeply with Israeli society today.

First, after Bnei Yisrael—particularly the women—generously donated materials, the tribal chieftains (nesi’im) brought onyx stones. Rashi, citing Bamidbar Rabbah, questions why they gave last instead of leading. The midrash explains that they were offended they had not been asked first and waited to see what was needed, only to find that the people had already given beyond expectations. Left with little to contribute, they brought onyx stones. Learning from this, they were the first to donate at the altar’s dedication in Bamidbar. This teaches that when leaders falter, the people can rise to the occasion and ultimately inspire their leaders to follow. 

A second model of leadership emerges from the midrash on Moshe’s role in constructing the Mishkan. At the end of Shemot, the Torah states that all the components of the Mishkan were brought to Moshe, and “the Mishkan was raised.” The midrash, noting that it would be impossible for one person alone to lift it, teaches that the Divine spirit rested upon Moshe, enabling the Mishkan to be assembled. Rabbi Aharon Lichtenstein points out that while many skilled craftsmen contributed, none could see the full picture of the Mishkan. Moshe, who had not personally contributed materials, played a different yet critical role—humbly uniting the collective efforts of the people into a completed whole.

The Mishkan teaches that true leadership is one which unites the whole nation and that sometimes it is the people who ultimately lead the way. Shabbat Shalom -Karen Miller Jackson


Parshat Terumah: On Bees and National Responsibility

Parshat Terumah’s description of the building of the Mishkan—a holy sanctuary built through the collective effort of the Jewish people—offers a powerful model for the relationship between Jews and the State of Israel today.

The word terumah (contribution) appears three times at the beginning of the parsha. Rashi explains that these refer to three distinct donations: two which were “chova” (required) and given equally by everyone, known as the machatzit hashekel, and one which was “nedava” (voluntary), giving as much as their “heart inspires” them. What emerges is two kinds of giving: the first ensures giving at a national scale while upholding the equal and noteworthy value of each individual offering, while the second embraces individual diversity and personal devotion. Rav Amital, based on the Maharal, taught that this combination is necessary within Jewish life, a balance between first, “chova” (required commitment) and then, “nedava” (voluntary dedication). 

Similarly, The Lubavitcher Rebbe interprets the different materials of the Mishkan as representing the diversity of the Jewish people, with different levels of Torah commitment and religious practice. The Mishkan only works if it includes everyone. The Mishkan was a great unifier, including even those who think or practice differently. 

These ideas were reinforced for me during a recent visit to a bee farm, where I observed how bees work together as a community, each fulfilling a unique role to sustain both their hive and the environment. A thriving society depends on the ability of all its members to contribute and collaborate in shaping their shared home. Just as every individual played a role in constructing the Mishkan, every Jew who seeks to live in or be connected to Israeli society must find their place in shaping and sustaining the State of Israel as both a spiritual and national home. Shabbat Shalom -Karen Miller Jackson 


Pekudei: Seeking Order

Parshat Pekudei marks the completion of building the mishkan, a project which is described in detail in the second half of the book of Shemot. Why is so much space given to the order of the mishkan and what relevance can it have for our lives today? 

Many scholars have pointed out the literary and thematic similarities between the creation of the mishkan and the creation of the world. This includes repetition of words such as “seeing,” “completing,” “blessing,” and “sanctifying” the work (melakha) which was done by God in Bereshit and by people in the mishkan. In both accounts the work ceases for Shabbat. As Leon Kass writes, in creation, complete chaos (tohu va’vohu) is transformed by the spirit of God (ruah Elokim) hovering on the water. The next time this term appears in Tanach is when Betzalel, architect of the mishkan, is infused with ruah Elokim. Based on God’s command, he created the mishkan, a sanctuary for daily service of God, providing order for the Jewish people, and potential for re-creation/renewal. 

The midrash Pesiqta Rabbati deepens this parallel when it connects King Solomon’s completion of the Temple in this week’s haftorah reading to creation as well. When Bereshit says that God created the world “la’asot,” to do, it means it was created unfinished, in need of perfection. The completion of the mikdash is likened to the culmination of the creation process. 

Just as in creation, God brought order to the world, the mishkan/mikdash provides a holy space for us to reconnect with order over chaos, and with God and holiness over immorality and empty values. Today, as the world may seem to lack order, and good and evil are at times distorted, we need to find our place of “sanctuary,” where we can rediscover a sense of God’s order and renew ourselves. Shabbat Shalom -Karen Miller Jackson


Vayakhel: What needs to happen for Haredim to join the IDF

“Ask not what your country can do for you – ask what you can do for your country” -John F. Kennedy

Parshat Vayakhel emphasizes the generous contributions to the Mishkan, from everyone – men and women – to the point that Moshe needs to stop them from donating. Deeper analysis of the Torah’s description of contributing to the Mishkan can shed light on the current debate about who should be contributing to defending Medinat Yisrael. 

The Torah emphasizes the generosity of the donations. Moshe instructs the people to “take gifts from among you,” and then encourages everyone, whose “heart is so moved,” to bring gifts to the Mishkan. The Hebrew root n.d.v (to donate) appears numerous times, and as Rabbanit Sharon Rimon points out, the word “lev” (heart) appears fourteen times in this section. The Ramban interprets this verse as referring only to voluntary gifts. This highlights that the Mishkan, the center of Jewish life, was built with heart and a spirit of collective giving. 

Yet, we also know that there was an aspect of contributing to the Mishkan which was mandatory for all. The language of “take” implies that everyone had to give gifts to the Mishkan. Elsewhere, the people are commanded to each give a half-shekel toward the tabernacle, a required tax. So which is it then? Voluntary or mandatory? The Kli Yakar says that the words “take gifts” refer to both required giving (the half shekel) and voluntary giving, which were combined to build the Mishkan. 

The idea that contributions to the Mishkan were a combination of mandatory and voluntary was echoed in our nation’s response to October 7th. Our heroic soldiers were called up with a command, a “tzav 8.” And we also witnessed an unparalleled nedivut (generosity) of heart and spirit, of most others giving what they could. This is what Rabbi Sacks zt”l called a nation built on a covenant of “We,” – “bound by a sense of shared belonging and collective responsibility.”

As we face a need to increase the numbers of soldiers needed to defend our country, how can we deepen the conversation to help foster this sense of national loyalty alongside Zionist pride, so that all Israeli citizens feel they are a part of the “We,” and can embrace the call to serve the Jewish nation? Shabbat Shalom – Karen Miller Jackson

Photo credit: Utra-Orthodox Jews walk outside an army recruitment office in Jerusalem, August 16, 2023. (Chaim Goldberg/Flash90) From TOI News site.


Parshat Terumah: Places for Prayer

“We shape our buildings; thereafter they shape us.” -Winston Churchill

Parshat Terumah contains the commandment to build the mishkan: “They shall make Me a sanctuary and I will dwell among them.” How does the mishkan – a physical structure – inspire closeness and connection to God? How is this achievable today?

The commentaries debate whether the mishkan was an ideal or a necessary accommodation. The second half of Shemot is dedicated mostly to the description of the mishkan, interrupted in the middle by the narrative of the sin of the golden calf. The midrash Sifre sees a direct connection and explains that the gold in the mishkan attones for the gold used to make the golden calf. Rashi similarly teaches that there is no chronological order in the Torah and the command to build the mishkan actually took place after the sin of the golden calf, as atonement and tikun. The Ramban however, sees deep relevance in the placement of the command to build mishkan after the revelation at Sinai: “The glory of God that dwelt on Mount Sinai, hiddenly dwells upon the mishkan.” The mishkan and later the mikdash was a center where people could go to feel God’s presence. Today, this applies to a Beit Knesset or Beit Midrash called by the Sages, a “mini-mikdash.”

Yet, there is another dimension to the purpose of the mishkan: so that God will “dwell among them” – the people. Cassuto writes that the ultimate purpose of the mishkan was for the people to feel that God was in their midst. The building itself was not the goal, but rather how it inspired the people within. This idea is also expressed in Talmud Berakhot when it teaches that a person should enter two doorways in a synagogue before praying. This provides an opportunity to be mindful about entering a place of prayer, a “mini-mikdash.” 

The movement through the doors, and the experience within, can hopefully inspire us to move closer and feel more connected to God and community. Shabbat Shalom -Karen Miller Jackson 


Parshat Vayakhel: Meaningful Work

Work is a central theme in parshat Vayakhel’s description of the building/making of the mishkan and the objects within it. This work is referred to mainly as “melakha,” and sometimes as “avodah.” What do these different Hebrew words for work connote and how can this relate to our own work or daily tasks today?

The word melakha which features prominently in Vayakhel, is also a keyword in Bereshit, where God’s “work” – the creation of the world – is called melakha. Another parallel: Both the work of creation and the mishkan cease for Shabbat. Also, the archetype for “work” which is not permitted on Shabbat (the 39 melakhot) is derived in the midrash Mekhilta from the repetition of the command to keep Shabbat in parshat Vayakhel. These parallels suggest that melakha is a type of work which consists of creativity, ingenuity and beauty, such as in God’s creation of the world and in humankind’s ability to create in this world (ie. the mishkan). The word avodah however, has a different connotation. It is used in the decription of the work the Jews did as slaves in Egypt. Moreover, it is also used in rabbinic literature to refer to serving God through either sacrifices or prayer. 

The commentaries question why the work in the mishkan is referred to as both melakha and avodah? The Kil Yakar comments: The word avodah, which connotes serving one’s Master, is used to describe the humbling work of serving God. Melakha, however, is the work which connects heaven and earth, which empowers human creativity in the Divine image of the ultimate creation, the world. Human work contains both aspects.

Work can feel like an obligation or service. But it can also be an expression of creativity, innovation and passion. May we find ways to imbue daily tasks with meaning, while also bringing out our passions and creativity. Shabbat Shalom – Karen Miller Jackson