דַּבֵּר אֶל בְּנֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל וְיִקְחוּ לִי תְּרוּמָה מֵאֵת כָּל אִישׁ אֲשֶׁר יִדְּבֶנּוּ לִבּוֹ תִּקְחוּ אֶת תְּרוּמָתִי:
(שמות כה:ב)
On the pasuk, “And you should take for me a donation (terumah) … ” the midrash comments; This pasuk can be explained by another pasuk (Devarim 33:4); “The Torah Moshe commanded us is a heritage (morasha) for the congregation of Yaakov.” Rebbe Simlie explained that 613 mitzvos were given to Yisrael, which is the gematria of the word “Torah.” Rebbe Simlie asks: How is it that the gematria of Torah is only 611 and not 613? He answers that the first two commandments were said by Hashem and not by Moshe and, therefore, in actuality Moshe only commanded 611 commandments.
Broadly speaking, the midrash encountered a difficulty in understanding the pasuk, “And you should take for me a donation (terumah).” The midrash answers that Hashem gave us 613 mitzvos—611 through Moshe and two of them Hashem said directly to Bnei Yisroel. Zera Shimshon asks: What exactly was the problem the midrash had with this pasuk and what is the answer? It is hard to see how the pasuk, “The Torah Moshe commanded us is a heritage for the congregation of Yaakov,” is evenly mildly connected to the pasuk, “And you should take for me a donation (terumah) …!” What exactly is happening here?
To explain this midrash, Zera Shimshon introduces the Midrash Shir HaShirim that describes the evolution of our capacity to retain the Torah that we learn. Initially, when the first two commandments were directly spoken to us by Hashem, their impact was so profound that we couldn’t forget them or any Torah that we would learn. Had Hashem continued to directly transmit the Torah, forgetfulness wouldn’t have been an issue; whatever we would learn would be remembered forever. Yet, once we asked Moshe to be an intermediary, we began to forget what we learned. When Moshe brought down the Tablets, our memory of the Torah we learn briefly regained its flawless quality, but was short lived—ending when Moshe broke the Tablets.
The ups and downs in our recollection of the Torah were mirrored precisely in our fight against the yetzer hara.
When we initially received the two commandments directly from Hashem at Har Sinai, we were liberated from the yetzer hara. When we selected Moshe to communicate the rest of the commandments instead of Hashem, the yetzer hara then reappeared to challenge and disturb us. Similarly, the opportunity to permanently dispel the yetzer hara presented itself with the receiving of the Tablets, but our worshipping the golden calf during those 40 days caused the yetzer hara to once again become a persistent challenge for us. The mirrors the exact same route of our capacity to remember Torah.
Zera Shimshon then quotes another midrash, that the Bais Hamikdash is referred to as “Mishkan” and not “Mikdash,” to signify that it serves as a security deposit, ensuring our adherence to the Torah—the Hebrew term for security deposit, “mashkon,” shares the same letters as “Mishkan.” This implies that when we transgress, Hashem reclaims the Bais Hamikdash, effectively leading to its destruction but, since our debt is paid, we are saved.
Considering these two midrashim, Zera Shimshon explains that the midrash was bothered by why the contributions for constructing the Mishkan are termed “terumah,” instead of alternative words like, “matanna” (a gift) or “hafrasha” (something separated). What is the significance of the term “terumah” in this context?
The midrash answers this by referencing the pasuk, “The Torah that Moshe commanded us is a heritage for the congregation of Yaakov.” From this, Rebbe Simlie teaches that Moshe delivered 611 mitzvos—equating to the gematria of Torah—while Hashem directly gave Bnei Yisroel two mitzvos. As previously mentioned, it was when Bnei Yisroel requested Moshe to transmit the Torah that the yetzer hara made its return, leading to sin. Consequently, the “Mishkan” had to serve as a form of security for us, ensuring our commitment to the Torah. In other words, we needed the Mishkan to be a “mashkon—collateral,” because, “Torah tziva lanu Moshe,” and not Hashem.
But what is the connection of all this to the term “terumah?” The components of “terumah”— “tuf,” “reish,” “vuv,” “mem,” and “hey”—collectively hint at “Torah,” with the “mem” symbolizing the number 40. This numeric value points to the 40 days Moshe spent on Har Sinai, a period characterized by a cycle of learning and forgetting.
This process of learning and forgetting, as previously discussed, correlates directly with the resurgence of the yetzer hara. Thus, the choice of “terumah” as the term for “contributions to the Mishkan” subtly references the underlying reason for the Mishkan’s necessity—as a safeguard or collateral in response to the challenges posed by receiving the Torah through Moshe over 40 days—rather than directly from Hashem, and the accompanying struggles with the yetzer hara.
Given that the Torah was not transmitted directly by Hashem to Bnei Yisroel, but rather taught incrementally by Moshe Rabeinu, this facilitated the yetzer hara’s return. The yetzer hara incites individuals to transgress against Hashem’s will, necessitating divine retribution and the establishment of the Mishkan as a “mashkon”—a security. The choice of “terumah” as the word for these contributions, therefore, encapsulates the very rationale behind the Mishkan’s existence as a protective measure, making it the most appropriate term for these donations.
In short, the core question of the midrash revolves around the choice of the term “terumah” for the contributions towards constructing the mishkan. The explanation is found in the phrase, “Torah tziva lanu Moshe,” Moshe delivered the additional 611 mitzvos to us. This indirect reception of the Torah is linked to our inclination to sin, as it led to the resurgence of the yetzer hara. Consequently, this necessitated the Mishkan to serve as a security measure for those times when Bnei Yisroel deviated from Hashem’s directives. The term “terumah” subtly hints at the delayed transmission of the Torah, making it the most fitting expression for these donations compared to other terms.
The realization that learning and understanding Torah and conquering the yetzer hara are tightly intertwined is very helpful, even now. If you detect a waning interest in the learning of a talmid, your son or even yourself—once learning disabilities have been excluded—it’s insightful to look into whether the yetzer hara is affecting his yiras Shamayim. Assisting in this domain can lead to improvement in his learning. Furthermore, helping a student who is struggling with his yetzer hara by focusing on enhancing his educational journey can be distinctly beneficial. There are many stories of roshei yeshivos and rebbeim, when seeing a talmid’s conduct weakening, helped him in his learning which saved the boy from great and, sometimes, even irreversible damage.
(Adapted from Zera Shimshon, parshas Terumah, derush 1)
