How much did the Mishkan (Tabernacle) cost to build? Gold, silver, copper, all sorts of colorful tapestries, craftsmanship.
While we cannot calculate it exactly, we do know the amount of each material used. That’s a start. Based on today’s prices, their current value is a little more than $42.2 million. The construction of the Mishkan was the first Jewish capital campaign in history. It was extraordinary successful. In the end, the nation raised too much money! (Halevai!)
Such a large campaign requires givers. A special type of giver. Not only givers of the of the head or hand but also of the heart.
”V’yikchu li terumah mei’et kol ish asher yidvenu libo tikechu et terumati – Take gifts for me. You shall take gifts for Me from everyone whose heart is moved.” (Shemot 25:2)
There was a mitzvah for all to give to the Mishkan project. It was, however, not an ordinary gift. Participating in the project was not meant to be a chore; it was a privilege. The Hebrew word “terumah” has the root of “rom,” which means elevated. Giving to the holy purpose was not lessening one’s net worth. Giving for a holy purpose is a net positive. In addition, the ideal is for people to want to give. “Yidvenu libo,” people’s hearts were to be generous. Don’t give begrudgingly while thinking how much it’s costing the bottom line. Be inspired to give because, at the heart of the matter, we gain by giving.
There is the act of giving and there is the heart of giving.
Why do people give?
Researchers have studied why people donate. The reasons for charitable giving fall into three broad categories. There is the “purely altruistic” – I donate because I value the social good done by the charity. The “impurely altruistic” – I donate because I extract value from knowing I contribute to the social good for the charity. And the “not-at-all altruistic,” I donate because I want to show off how rich I am.
We can understand giving. It makes sense. It is a response to a need. This is the giving of the hand, the act of giving. Then, there is terumah and nediv lev, generosity stemming from a heartful and soulful motivation to help others and elevate the world around us.
Researchers found that many people are aware that they should donate to the causes that have the highest impact, but facts and figures are less attractive than narratives. In a series of experiments, people were much more responsive to charitable pleas featuring a single, identifiable beneficiary than they were to statistical information about the scale of the problem being faced. Further analysis showed that advertising which emphasized the proven effectiveness of the charity does not increase giving.
In short, when it comes to charitable giving, we are often ruled by our hearts and not our heads.
The Mishkan, the first national Jewish project was a lesson in giving with the heart. We each give what we can. At the same time, we should try to give with empathy, sensitivity, passion, and heart. Such an approach turns our giving into much more than a donation. It’s an elevation.
Sometimes, people give almost exclusively with the heart. Rav Sholom Schwadron, the Maggid of Jerusalem, would tell the story (printed in The Maggid Speaks) of a Yerushalmi Jew by the name of Rav Yudel Holtzman.
He was a very poor man and had no children, but his heart would break for another man's troubles. He insisted the charity collectors always some his home. No matter how desperate his own plight might have been, he always found a way to help others in need.
One time, the neighborhood tailor, a very poor man himself, needed an operation. The considerable cost of sixty pounds was well beyond his means. The charity collector made his rounds on the tailor’s behalf and came to the home of Rav Yudel. As he explained the plight of the tailor, Rav Yudel sat dejected, constantly interjecting "how terrible, how awful. I wish so much that I could help but I really can't. You know how little money I have. All that I give comes from ma'aser (giving one tenth of one's earnings to charity).
“How then am I usually able to contribute? Being that there are so many people in need, I borrow against my future ma'aser account. Against money that I hope to earn. But now, what can I do? My policy is that I don't borrow against my ma'aser when I'm already a full year overdrawn against that account. I've already reached that point. I'm sorry. I feel so bad for him. All I can do is wish him a refuah sheleimah."
The charity collector understood fully and left Rav Yudel's home. He had walked only half a block when Rav Yudel came running after him. "Wait a minute! Wait a minute! Come back! Hashem has inspired me with a great idea!" Puzzled, he returned to Rav Yudel's home.
Rav Yudel began to speak excitedly. "I have a plan to enable me to help him. You go to one of the larger gemachs (interest free loan funds) in Yerushalayim and tell them to lend you twenty pounds in my name. I'll pay it back. You see, I realized that I spend half a shilling on wine for Kiddush every week. Jewish law permits Kiddush to be recited over challah on Friday night. If I make Kiddush on challah every Friday night, I'll have the extra money to repay the loan!"
For the next fifteen years, Rav Yudel made Kiddush over challah until the loan had been repaid.
One times, after telling the story, Rav Sholom was approached by a young man. "I'm Rav Yudel's nephew. I was at my uncle's house many times and it always seemed strange to me that he recited the Kiddush over challah. Now I know why.”
That is terumah and nediv lev, listening to and giving from the heart.
The Torah teaches a subtle yet substantial lesson when it comes to giving. We need to give from the heart. We don’t just give to fill a technical need. We don’t just give because it is a mitzvah. Ideally, we give because we feel the need ourselves and respond to it.
We are living in times when more listening to the heart is needed. With short attention spans and tempers, it is easy to see others in very utilitarian terms. “What do they want? What do they need? What does that have to do with me?” We need more lev, more generosity of spirit, more patience, and more listening to our hearts when engaging with others and seeking ways to elevate them and, by extension, ourselves.
We can pray for
those who are ill or are suffering from difficult times.
We can give
tzedakah.
We can learn Torah
in someone’s memory or in the merit of better things to come.
We can increase our
performance of mitzvot and acts of kindness.
May we find ways to give with our hands while always listening and responding with our hearts.
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