The text of this pasuk seems enigmatic. The word “sufficient” implies an accounting of materials for a precise purpose, for which an accurate amount is necessary. “Left over,” on the other hand, denotes a surplus of these materials.
Horav M. Shapiro, z.l., offers a novel approach to resolving this apparent “contradiction.” Every Jew contributed towards the Mishkan, each according to his own means. Some individuals wanted to donate more than their resources permitted, but were not allowed to do so. There were also probably individuals who had procrastinated, intending to give more before the call came to cease the donations. The halachah regarding the latter case is clear. When one plans to donate to “hekdesh”, sanctuary, the intended object becomes sanctified even if the individual had not uttered a word of affirmation. We note that thoughts are accepted as binding. What happens to these thoughts and worthy intentions? They surely do not vanish into oblivion!
Horav Shapiro deduces that these holy thoughts are transformed into deeds. This is consistent with the statement of Chazal that one who has been prevented from performing an intended mitzvah is viewed by the Torah as having performed it. Responding to the above problem, he states that the actual donations were sufficient to serve the concrete needs of the Mishkan and its vessels. The “left over” refers to the surplus of good will and intentions, the unrealized aspirations of those who had hoped to go beyond the letter of the law, but missed the opportunity. These donations remained a separate phenomenon, hovering above humanity in the spiritual realm.
The airspace surrounding the Sanctuary was also holy, despite its intangibility. How did it receive sanctification if it had no corporeal form? How could the air, which has no tactile properties, become as consecrated as the actual place? Horav Shapiro responds that this unique holiness was a direct result of the yearnings and strivings of the people whose intended donations had become ensconced in the air of the Mishkan. We may advance this thought further. When one studies Torah or performs another mitzvah, he creates a metaphysical form of sanctity for which he will be rewarded. The attitude with which he approaches this mitzvah performance is also a source of kedushah, holiness. The resulting kedushah becomes an intrinsic part of the place in which he performs this deed.
For example, one who studies Torah in a certain room creates an atmosphere of kedushah in that room. We suggest that the quality of the of kedushah in that room is consistent with the enthusiasm he applies and the holiness he attributes to his Torah study. The level of kedushah in a given place correlates highly to the attitude towards the mitzvah performance in that place. If the Torah study is cold and insipid, the place will maintain that same sterile form of spirituality. If the Torah study is a manifestation of one’s love for and devotion to Hashem’s Torah, it will be reflected in a sublime form of sanctity that can be intuitively felt when one enters the room.
