In Parashat Terumah, Hashem commands Bnei Yisrael: “וְעָשׂוּ לִי מִקְדָּשׁ וְשָׁכַנְתִּי בְּתוֹכָם” – “They shall make Me a Sanctuary, and I shall dwell among them” (Shemot 25:8). The expected phrase should have been “וְשָׁכַנְתִּי בְּתוֹכוֹ” – “I shall dwell in it”, referring to the Mishkan. Instead, the Torah deliberately uses the plural “בְּתוֹכָם” – “among them”, teaching us that Hashem’s presence is not confined to a single structure but is meant to reside within each and every one of us. The Mishkan was not just physically central in the Israelite camp, surrounded by the tribes; it was the heart of the nation. Just as the heart pumps life to the entire body, the Mishkan infused the people with spiritual vitality. It reminded them that Hashem is meant to be at the center of their existence—not as a distant presence, but as an integral part of their daily lives. However, the Torah teaches us that the ultimate goal isn’t for Hashem to dwell in a building, but for each Jew to become a dwelling place for the Divine Presence. The Mishkan teaches that holiness is not limited to one sacred space—it must permeate our actions, thoughts, and relationships.
If Hashem wanted a dwelling place, He could have created the Mishkan Himself, just as He created the world. Instead, He commanded Bnei Yisrael to build it with their own hands. Why? Rav Dessler explains a profound concept: Giving strengthens love more than love strengthens giving. We often think that we give to those we love. But in reality, we love those to whom we give. Hashem wanted Bnei Yisrael to build the Mishkan themselves so they would develop a deeper connection to it. If it had simply been given to them, they might have admired it, but they would not have felt the same attachment and responsibility toward it. By collecting gold, silver, and other materials, by crafting every detail, by investing effort into its construction, Bnei Yisrael didn’t just create a holy structure—they created a relationship with Hashem. This idea applies to us today as well. The more effort we put into our relationship with Hashem—through tefillah, Torah learning, and mitzvot—the stronger our bond with Him becomes.
Each of us is a Mishkan. Hashem does not need a physical structure for Himself—the Mishkan was for us, to remind us to make room for Hashem in our hearts and lives. Just as the Mishkan required constant upkeep, so too, our personal and communal connection with Hashem requires continuous effort. May we take the lesson of וְשָׁכַנְתִּי בְּתוֹכָם to heart, ensuring that Hashem is not only in our synagogues and batei midrash but truly within us, guiding our every step.
Yiska Guberman
