This week, in Parashat Vayakhel, we read about the Israelites finally building the Mishkan, the Tabernacle. We’ve been reading the instructions to build this structure for the past many weeks, and finally, this week, the actual process of construction brings the book of Exodus to a close. And at the very beginning, there is one line that sets the tone for what the entire project should mean for the people. The Torah writes that each person gave from themselves, kol nediv leebo - all who gave from their hearts. Items for the community were brought precisely because individuals felt a tug at their hearts. And the structure that sustained the community was built because of those heart-gifts.
I’ve been thinking about what this means for us, what kind of implications this has as we are always working to build structures that sustain our community. What do heart-gifts look like today? What does it mean to sustain a community with gifts from the heart?
In this day and age, I think one of the hardest gifts to give from our hearts is our presence. And yet, I believe that presence - the ability to show up for people - is the greatest gift of our heart, and the single greatest thing that contributes to and sustains a sense of community. We live in a world that has offered us many gifts and also creates greater boundaries between one another. We live in silos and convince ourselves that if someone isn’t close to us that it’s not our place (or responsibility) to be there for them. Can we conceive of widening our circle of connection (and obligation) to show up for more people?
Writer Mia Birdsong, in her book How We Show Up urges us to think about our inherent connectedness, and that when we hold ourselves accountable to that connectedness, we find strength, safety, and support. She beautifully reminds us that “Showing up—literally and figuratively—points us toward the promise of our collective vitality and leads us to the liberated wellbeing we all want.” Developing a sense of collective vitality was the goal of the Tabernacle, and I think it should be a goal of ours today, too. And I think that our sense of vitality as a community directly relates to the way that we cultivate presence for each other.
What I find myself drawn to, today, is how we hold ourselves accountable to this type of showing up. Might we be willing to call someone or visit instead of sending a quick text? Can we push ourselves to bring food over instead of sending a gift card? When can we pay a shiva call even if we don’t know the mourner very well? I think this is one of the applications, in our time, of what it means to give gifts from our hearts. There is such tremendous power in simply being there for other people.
I hope we can each see ourselves as community members offering gifts from the heart, cultivating presence to show up for others. Hearts are touched and moved when they receive our gifts of presence, and I think, in the process, our hearts are moved, too.
