One would expect that it would be incumbent upon every individual to participate in the building of the Mishkan. Yet, the Torah’s standard is to take donations only “from every man whose heart motivates him.” Regarding other mitzvos, the Torah places emphasis upon activity, the ma’aseh ha’mitzvah. Of prime importance regarding the building of the Mishkan is that the individual displays unequivocal ratzon, good will and desire to give. Imagine, had the people not exhibited pure ratzon to contribute towards the Mishkan, the Mishkan never would have been built! It behooves us to understand the significance of this willingness to contribute, a trait which represents the underlying motif of the Mishkan.
Rashi defines the word “li,” for Me, as “lishmi,” for My Name. This implies that it is not sufficient for the individual merely to give willingly. Rather, one must demonstrate explicit intention to contribute for the sake of Hashem’s Name. He must have kavanah, intention, to donate towards Hashem’s Mishkan. Without this exclusive intention, the ensuing construction is invalid. He must give the money willingly, and with intention for it to help build Hashem’s Mishkan; otherwise it will not be the Mishkan. It will be an ordinary structure. Why?
Last, for certain mitzvos, “lishmah,” intention for the mitzvah, is a pre-requisite. We never find this demand in effect in the preparations for the mitzvah. For instance, a get, divorce, must be written “lishmah”; that criteria, however, applies only to the actual writing. The Torah certainly does not demand that the quill be made lishmah, or that the parchment be made lishmah from its very beginning when the skin is flayed from the animal. Regarding the Miskdash, however, it would be invalid to use a stone which had not been hewed explicitly to use in the construction of the Mikdash. The question is glaring: Why should the Mishkan/Mikdash necessitate such kavanah for every aspect of involvement, to its culmination that each act must be performed with one intention —l’sheim Hashem, for Hashem’s Mishkan?
Horav Avigdor Nebentzhal, Shlita, gives a practical, yet compelling response. The greater kedushah, holiness, of an object/endeavor, the greater care we must take to see to it that the entire process be replete with holiness every step of the way. Its origin, the foundation upon which it is built, must be untainted and pure. Only when the foundation is kadosh, holy, can the edifice be similarly holy.
In the Talmud Kesubos 103b, Chazal relate how Rabbi Chiya dedicated himself to making sure that Torah would never be forgotten in Klal Yisrael. He planted the flax seeds. He spun the flax into yarn from which he made nets. He utilized the nets to catch deer. He used the flesh of the deer to feed orphans. Finally, from the hide, he made parchment upon which he wrote the Torah. He then travelled to any city which did not have a melamed tinokos, Torah teacher for young children, in order to teach them Torah. If we think about it, Rabbi Chiya seemed to be “carried away” with his preparations for teaching the children. He could have just as easily purchased skins or even a ready-made Sefer Torah from which to teach. Why did he put himself through so much trouble, spend so much time and effort preparing the scrolls?
The answer, claims Horav Nebentzhal, is that in order to ensure that Torah not be forgotten, the entire process must be pristine. It must be totally lishmah from its very beginning. Rabbi Chiya departed from his personal Torah study for many hours in order to see to it that the Torah he was teaching was lishmah–from its very beginning. He knew that if the yesod, foundation, is not lishmah, somewhere down the line that flaw would surface. Rabbi Chiya was uncompromising in his approach towards teaching Torah. Is there really any other effective way?
