Parashat Vayak’heil-P’kudei
D’VAR TORAH Parashat Vayak’heil-P’kudei March 13, 2026 24 Adar 5786
Stacie Gabert Temple Sinai South Burlington
Dvar Torah: Vayak'heil - P'kudei"The Whole Community Came Together"
Most of you know we're in the middle of a capital campaign. Three million dollars is the goal. Some of you are wondering if we'll actually hit that number. And some of you are thinking, my donation isn't going to move the needle on three million dollars. Does it really matter? (pause)
I've been sitting with that question this week, and then I read the Torah portion — and I have to tell you, the Torah has something to say directly to us, right now, in this room.
Because the Israelites were also in the middle of a campaign. Moses came to the community and said — we need to build something. And what happened next is one of the most remarkable moments in the entire Torah: people gave so much that the builders had to come to Moses and ask him to tell the people to stop. There was more than enough.
But here's what I keep coming back to: that campaign happened right after the Golden Calf — the lowest moment in Israel's history. They were broken, they were ashamed, and yet when called upon to build something together, they showed up completely. If they could do it then, in that moment — I think we can too.
The word that anchors this entire parasha is כָּל-הָעֵדָה — kol ha'edah — "the whole community." It appears again and again. Every person who was wise of heart came. Every man and woman whose spirit moved them contributed. The princes brought precious stones. The skilled women spun with their hands. There was no task too small and no donor too minor to be mentioned.
The Torah is making a deliberate point: the Mishkan wasn't built by Moses, or by the master craftsman, or by the wealthy alone. It was built by everyone, with whatever they had to offer.
Here's what's worth thinking about: The woman spinning goat hair probably didn't think her contribution would end up in the Torah alongside gold and precious stones. The person donating a simple piece of linen probably wondered — Does this really matter? And yet the Torah records every single contribution. Not just the grand ones. All of them.
The Sfat Emet teaches that each person contains a divine spark, and that the Mishkan could only be truly complete when every one of those sparks was present. A Mishkan built by the master craftsman alone, however brilliant, would have been missing something essential. The building needed everyone's piece — not because every piece was the same size, but because every piece was irreplaceable.
That is the Torah's answer to the question we started with. Does your contribution move the needle? Yes. Not because of the dollar amount — but because a community, like the Mishkan, has a hole in it wherever someone held back.
We tend to think of sacred work as belonging to the specialists — the rabbi, the cantor, the committee chair, the major donor. This torah portion pushes back hard on that. It insists that a holy community only becomes whole when everyone brings their particular contribution.
And notice what Moses does before the building campaign even begins: he teaches Shabbat first, then talks about the Mishkan. Sacred community isn't only built through grand projects and capital campaigns. It's sustained in the ordinary rhythm of showing up — week after week, with what you have.
So yes, we need the lead gifts. We need the major donors. But we also need the goat hair. We need every person in this room to say — this is my community, this is my Mishkan, and I am going to put my piece into it.
At the end of P'kudei, after every contribution had been brought and every piece assembled, the Torah says the cloud of God's presence filled the Mishkan. God didn't arrive until the building was complete — until every last contribution had found its place.
Maybe that's still how it works. The question isn't whether three million dollars is achievable. The question is whether kol ha'edah — the whole community — is going to show up. Because if we do, history tells us there will be more than enough.
Shabbat Shalom.
