Community Blog

Shabbat Shalom! This week’s Torah portion is Parashat Terumah, in which the first description of the Mishkan is found. God instructs Moses to instruct the Israelites to bring gifts of the heart to begin the construction, and the basic blueprints are shared with Moses. The Mishkan is often translated as Tabernacle, which comes from the Latin meaning Tent, but this specific tent is for sanctuary. The Torah refers to it as a place where God can dwell among the Israelites. 

But sanctuary can be so much more than that. It is a place to commune with God for sure, and it is also a place to commune with oneself, to commune with one’s community, to feel safe, to find refuge from the strife of the outside world, to shore up strength to fight the against the strife of the outside world. Domestically, the term is also used to denote the social movement, especially among houses of worship, offering shelter and protection for those at risk of deportation. This concept of legal sanctuary goes back hundreds, if not thousands, of years. Temples, synagogues, and churches offered sanctuary to runaway slaves or other fugitives, and law-enforcement figures were historically bound to respect the walls of the holy spaces and could not enforce an arrest within the property lines of the House of Worship. Though the legal standing of these practices have fluctuated throughout the centuries and across the continents, many localities still respect this concept today out of tradition. 

While this week’s parasha says, “Tell the Israelite people to bring Me gifts; you shall accept gifts for Me from every person whose heart is so moved,” communicating a voluntariness to the gifts, the expectation (and the outcome, as we will see in coming Torah portions) is that EVERYONE brings something, according to what they are able. Some of the Israelites may have expertise in specific types of construction or artistry, and all will be needed to build the wood planks and tables, create the metal fasteners, fashion the bowls, vessels, and menorot, weave the tapestries, craft the goat skins and the tachash skins into the walls, and so on. They are all coming out of slavery, having all been given the same notice to take their loot from the Egyptians, so theoretically there should be no one who is materially richer or poorer among the Israelites. However, by setting up the concept of these things as “gifts” rather than requirements, by assigning duties according to ability, by showing the concern for equity in how the entire community comes together to work on this shared project, the Torah is modeling how we should behave going forward. When the Mishkan is built, a similar concept will apply to the sacrifices prescribed - some families will be able to afford to sacrifice bigger animals, and some won’t, and there will be tiers of sacrifice so that everyone has an opportunity to participate in the rituals of their people. When the Israelites settle in the Holy Land, social structures are put in place to help protect different groups of society to ensure a better sense of equality than had previously been experienced by these people. And today, we expect our communities to give according to their means, and receive according to their needs. 

In 2017, I looked into the modern Sanctuary Movement somewhat, and thought about trying to add Ner Shalom as a place of refuge for immigrants being targeted by things like the “Muslim Ban” and the threat to end DACA. It looked to me that to be a meaningful part of the Sanctuary Movement in that way required more resources than we had. I knew that having non-Jewish strangers, potentially being sought after by law enforcement, living in desparate conditions, would raise safety and security concerns among congregants, and we didn’t have the manpower or money to ensure some kind of staff or security here 24/7. We have limited space for things like providing places for people to sleep and eat, and limited funds to provide meals for groups of people. It looked like the other houses of worship who signed on as “Sanctuaries” had the space, the money, and the staff, to really function as a shelter, without inhibiting their regular religious activities, and we simply do not. 

However, as a part of our new “Doikayt” (Hereness) initiative, we are opening our doors for four hours a week, at least to offer some reprieve for people who need a safe and free place to be outside of work, school, or home. We have started a Little Free Pantry by our gate, at least to offer some food and hygiene products to those in need. We are planning to stir up some Ner Shalom volunteers to join H.U.G.S. every third Saturday of the month to help with direct outreach to the homeless. We are doing what we can, giving what we have, to help make our space and all of Prince William County feel like a sanctuary for those in need. We may be a small congregation with limited means, but we still must give what we can, our gifts of the heart, to create space for the Divine to dwell among us, and to keep all our neighbors safe. 

This Refugee Shabbat and going forward, may we continue to give with an open heart, an open mind, and an open hand to help those at greater threat than ourselves. May we help create a world where no one is under threat - of political repression, violence, starvation, or homelessness. And may the Divine dwell among us always and everywhere. Amen and Shabbat Shalom.