Drash – Terumah

Rabbi Rafi Kaiserblueth

Emanuel Synagogue

A Sanctuary Among Us, Built by Us, For Us

This week’s portion, Terumah, marks a turning point in the Torah. Until now, the story has been dramatic, slavery, plagues, revelation at Sinai. Suddenly the narrative slows down. Measurements. Materials. Curtains. Poles. Rings. Wood. Gold.

At first glance, it feels almost anticlimactic.

Yet this portion contains one of the most profound theological statements in Judaism:

“Let them make Me a sanctuary, and I shall dwell among them.” (Exodus 25:8)

Notin it — but among them.

The Mishkan is not really about architecture. It is about community.

One detail the rabbis noticed is striking. Throughout the instructions, God tells Moses in the singular: “You shall make…” But when it comes to the Ark the vessel that holds the Torah the wording changes:

“They shall make an Ark.” (Exodus 25:10)

Why the plural?

Midrash explains: God wanted everyone involved so that no one could ever say, the Torah belongs more to me than to you.

Holiness in Judaism cannot be privately owned.

You cannot outsource meaning.
You cannot delegate covenant.
You cannot subcontract responsibility.

A synagogue is not holy because a rabbi leads it, a cantor sings in it, or a board runs it. It becomes holy only when everyone builds it through presence, kindness, learning, argument, generosity, and showing up for each other.

The Ark had to be communal because Torah itself is communal.

The Or HaChaim (18th Century Moroccan Commentator) makes an even deeper point: no single Jew can fulfil the entire Torah alone. Some mitzvot belong to priests, some to farmers, some to parents, some to judges. Only the collective Jewish people can live the whole covenant.

In other words, Judaism is designed so that we need each other.

We live in an age that celebrates radical individualism  “my spirituality,” “my truth,” “my Judaism.” Terumah quietly insists otherwise. The covenant is not a solo performance. It is an orchestra.

You don’t just belong to Judaism.
Judaism belongs to a people and therefore to a community.

The Ark also had permanent carrying poles that were never removed (Exodus 25:13–15). Commentators explain this symbolised that Torah must always be ready to travel. It cannot remain locked in one sacred place.

Jewish history proved this true. From Jerusalem to Babylon, Spain to Poland, Morocco to Australia  the Mishkan kept moving.

Holiness in Judaism is not location-dependent. We don’t visit sacred space; we carry it.

Terumah teaches that God does not ask for perfection only participation. Gold, silver, copper… but also willingness of the heart (Exodus 25:2). Everyone gives something different, and only together does the Mishkan stand.

The synagogue works the same way.

Some teach.
Some organise.
Some cook.
Some sing.
Some ask thoughtful questions.
Some simply show up — and that too builds the sanctuary.

And when we do, the ancient promise is fulfilled:

God does not dwell in the building we construct.

God dwells in the community we become.

May we continue to build our Mishkan, that spiritual place we carry with us, that will always encompass all who choose to be a part of it.

Shabbat Shalom

Rabbi Rafi Kaiserblueth