By Aaron Kay

(Much of my commentary on parshat Pekudei was inspired in reaction to an interpretation by Lord Rabbi Jonathan Sacks. Though it isn’t necessary for understanding my parasha, you can find his complete ideas in this six minute video dvar.)

Parashat Pekudei takes place about one year after the Israelites’ escape from Egypt, just at the beginning of their forty years of wandering. At this point, the Jews have much to thank God for, but they lack a proper structure or temple for offering sacrifices. To solve the dilemma, Moses directs the Israelites to give forth their gold, silver, and other precious metals and fabrics to construct the Mishkan (a portable sanctuary for God - a.ka. the Tabernacle), and eight fancy breast plates for the Cohen priests.

In his own dvar for Pekudei, Professional Jew Lord Rabbi Jonathan Sacks draws attention to the immediate willingness with which the Israelites agreed to donate their most valuable materials toward constructing the mishkan. He references that Moses eventually instructed the Israelites to stop bringing materials because he and the Cohens already had more than they needed to build the tabernacle. Sacks parallels this moment of over-generosity to the immediate willingness with which this very same generation of Israelites smelted their gold to erect the golden calf (see Parashat Ki Sisa). Sacks decides that the act of charitable giving, whether it be toward a cause of holiness or one of sacrilege, is the very essence of Judaism.

With all do respect, Jon, I find this conclusion insufficient. Yes, giving is an essential part of Judaism - few of us have been a part of a Synagogue, Hebrew school, JCC, or labor Zionist youth movement machaneh that doesn’t give tzedakah - but without a degree of serious selectivity, this charity loses its positive influence.

For example, if Habonim communities didn’t give our tzedakah options as much scrutiny as we typically do, we would risk neglecting entities who align with our values. As an activist movement, our material donations are typically secondary to the physical work that we give to our communities. The specifications of these offerings (usually under the title of ‘hagshama,’ ‘tikkun olam,’ or ‘messima’) also demand serious thought.

This is how we must think and act if we are to bring about change with our material and physical offerings to the world. The Golden Calf and the Mishkan both appeared worthy of offerings to the ancient Israelites, but they were not equally as fulfilling. Which causes are worthy of our support today? How does one determine and identify a just cause? Which offerings are most useful for which cause? Movement, these questions I leave you with do not ask whether or not we will be charitable – they ask how we will be charitable.