Shabbat Greetings

This week’s Torah portion, Terumah (Exodus 25:1-27:19) opens with a surprising command: “V’yikchu li terumah” — “You shall take gifts for Me” (25:2). Not give, but take. The Torah then clarifies: the offering must come from “kol ish asher yidvenu libo,” from every person whose heart moves them.

This moment marks a turning point for the Israelites. Until now, they have largely been passive recipients: God brings plagues, splits the sea, rains down manna. But here, God asks the people to step forward and build something themselves. The Mishkan, the sacred space, will not descend from heaven fully formed. It will exist only if the people choose to contribute, to act, and to take responsibility for holiness in their midst.

This is where Parashat Terumah speaks powerfully to a core Reform Jewish value: advocacy and action.  This Shabbat, the Confirmation students and I are in Washington, DC. participating at the L’Taken Seminar at the Religious Action for Reform Judaism. During the four days of this seminar, they will join with teens from across the United States to learn the history and background of important public policy issues for greater understanding and engagement in the national dialogue. In addition, they will learn the deep Jewish values that underpin social justice advocacy and how the pursuit of justice is a pillar of Jewish tradition. Finally, on Monday, we will go up to Capital Hill to advocate for their values.

Reform Judaism teaches that Judaism is not only a matter of belief, but of behavior. We do not wait for the world to become just on its own. Like the Mishkan, a more sacred society is built through human effort, through giving our resources, our voices, and our labor. Justice does not appear miraculously; it is constructed, plank by plank.

Notice that the Torah goes into extraordinary detail about the Mishkan, its measurements, materials, and design. Gold, silver, copper, linen, acacia wood. Every contribution matters. Not everyone gives the same thing, but everyone has something to give. This is a profound model for advocacy work today. Some of us show up at rallies. Some write letters or testify. Some donate, organize, teach, or listen. The work of repair, tikkun olam, requires many forms of commitment.

And the offering must be voluntary. God does not coerce generosity or action. Reform Judaism similarly insists that meaningful Jewish engagement comes from informed choice and moral conviction. Advocacy that flows from a willing heart is not only more ethical; it is more sustainable. When we act because we feel commanded by conscience rather than compelled by force, our work carries holiness.

Finally, God’s purpose for the Mishkan is not grandeur, but relationship: “V’asu li mikdash v’shachanti b’tocham” — “Make for Me a sanctuary, and I will dwell among them.” (25:8) Not in it, but among them. The divine presence emerges not from the structure itself, but from what the people create together.

So too with advocacy. When we stand up for the vulnerable, pursue equity, and challenge injustice, we create space for holiness to dwell among us. God’s presence is felt not only in prayer, but in action as in the courage to speak, the willingness to give, and the determination to build a better world.

Terumah reminds us that sacred work begins when we stop waiting and start building. The question it asks us is timeless: What are we willing to bring forward, and how will we help construct the world we believe God is calling us to create?

SHABBAT SHALOM