The Tabernacle and Why God Wants Your Heart Before Your Money, Exodus 25:1-2 and 8 by Dr. Terry Harman

Aerial view of the 4 Coverings of the Tabernacle of Moses

Money Manipulations

Most of us know that knot-in-the-stomach moment when the “building fund” or High Holiday appeal begins. The words are about generosity, yet something in the tone can feel more like pressure than invitation. We have all sat there wondering whether this is truly about sacred partnership, or whether we are being pushed, nudged, or even subtly manipulated. Experiences like that can leave a film over the soul, making it harder to hear the quiet, sincere call of the heart that actually wants to give for God’s dwelling in our midst.

The account of the building of the Tabernacle teaches that God desires our hearts before our money. On that occasion, so many people were moved to give that the craftsmen reported they had more than enough, and Moses actually had to command the people to stop bringing gifts for the work of the portable sanctuary in the desert (Exodus 36:5–7).

Willing Hearts Not Compulsory Giving

A willing, generous heart always comes before the checkbook. In the story of the Mishkan, the Torah is far more interested in why we give than in how much we give. Exodus 25 quietly insists: every true gift begins in the inner sanctuary of the heart, not in the accounting ledger.

The first words about the Mishkan begin with a voice that still trembles with Sinai’s holiness: "And God spoke to Moshe, saying” (Exodus 25:1). The verb vayedabber comes from the root ד–ב–ר, the Torah’s term for firm, covenantal speech. God is not making small talk about a building campaign; He is inviting Israel into a covenantal act of love.

Then comes the core of the matter: “Speak to the children of Israel, that they take for Me an offering; from every man whose heart makes him willing you shall take My offering” (Exodus 25:2). The same strong speech Moshe heard from God he now carries to a very young, still‑forming nation, whom God tenderly calls “children of Israel.” They are tribal, rough around the edges, spiritually immature, and yet invited into something deeply grown‑up: giving with a willing heart.

The verb yidvenu (“makes him willing”) is rare, used precisely here in reference to the Tabernacle/ Mishkan giving. It paints a picture not of pressure, guilt, or manipulation, but of an inner stirring, where one is “moved” or “motivated” to participate. This is the Bible's prototype of what we would call today “heartfelt donations,” not compulsory giving.

Korban: Giving as Drawing Close, Not Buying Access

Underneath this entire passage lies the broader biblical language of the Hebrew word korban - offerings whose very name comes from the root ק–ר–ב, “to draw near.” A korban is never a spiritual bribe, never a way of purchasing God’s favor, never “pay‑to‑play” access to the Divine. It is an embodied way of saying: “I long to come closer.”

When a person gives from a willing heart, the action itself becomes a kind of korban: not a payment to a distant deity, but a step toward the God who already loves and has redeemed them. Israel had already been freed from Egypt before a single donation was collected. Grace comes first; giving is the response.

This is why Exodus 25 stresses “terumah” - an offering that is lifted, separated from the ordinary, and dedicated to something higher. In ministry terms, it is taking what could have stayed in my pocket, my account, my personal plans, and “raising” it toward God’s purposes. The money itself is not holy; the intention - “for My Name” is what sanctifies it. When the heart is willing, the gift becomes a way of drawing close to God, not a way of buying closeness.

Teaching the Heart to Give

There is a gentle paradox in Exodus 25: God uses the serious covenantal verb “speak” (ד–ב–ר) and at the same time addresses them as “children of Israel.” Spiritually, they are still in their childhood as a nation. Just as parents speak seriously yet tenderly to their children about faith, Moses is instructed to "speak" to the children of Israel with the same covenantal weight as God did with him, and not with harshness or coercion, as we may have encountered in a religious service.

This is a model for how we talk about money and ministry. We can speak with gravity because supporting God’s work matters deeply, yet we must guard our tone. If the work of ministry is funded by hearts compelled through pressure or shame, then the building is no longer a dwelling place for the Shechinah and becomes just another human project. A parent who forces a child to “give” may get compliance, but not closeness. The same is true in the spiritual family.

Exodus 25:8 – Building a Sanctuary, Becoming a Sanctuary

All of this movement of the heart flows toward a single breathtaking promise: “And they shall make Me a sanctuary, and I will dwell among them” (Exodus 25:8). Notice the subtle grammar. God does not say, “I will dwell in it,” but “in them.”

The word mikdash (sanctuary) comes from the root, “holy, set apart.” The Mishkan (Tabernacle or dwelling place) is a physical, visible space set apart for encounters with God. But the true goal is not a building glowing in the desert sun. The Tabernacle was a visible and tangible structure as a testimony that God forgave the children of Israel for making the golden calf.

The true goal is that every man and woman whose heart was moved to give, to build, to serve, becomes a kind of walking sanctuary. As the sages and many modern teachers note, the Tabernacle structure in the center of the camp is only a witness to a deeper reality: God’s Presence dwells within the people themselves.

In this light, every heartfelt donation to the work of ministry is part of “making Me a sanctuary.” The financial gift helps construct something external - a synagogue, a classroom, a food pantry, a ministry space - but the deeper construction site is the human heart. Each time we release what is ours into God’s hands, with the intention of drawing close rather than buying favor, a new “mikdash” takes shape inside us. We are fashioned into a dwelling place for the presence of God, His glory.

Heart Before Amount: A Ministry Perspective

What does this mean for contemporary ministry giving?

• It means the primary question is not, “How much did you give?” but, “Where did your gift come from - in fear or in freedom, in guilt or in love?”

  
  

• It means that appeals for support should aim at wakening willing hearts, not extracting reluctant funds.

  
  

• It means we must constantly remind ourselves and our communities: we are not buying God, sponsoring grace, or purchasing miracles. We are responding to a God who already dwells within us and invites us into partnership.

  
  

In the end, the story of the Mishkan teaches that great spiritual work can be built out of small offerings, if they come from a heart that longs to draw near. When we give in this way, our donations become more than transactions. They become korbanot - steps toward the One who, astonishingly, longs to “pitch His tent” in us.

Shalom, Terry

How You Can Thank Me

If you enjoyed reading this post, you can thank me this way. Take the inspiration you’ve found here and pass it on.

Consider donating your time, talents, or treasure to a worthy cause in your community. Maybe there’s a widow who could use help with her yard. Perhaps you know someone who’s recently lost a job and could use a helping hand.

Support your local community center, homeless shelter, or school program that may need mentors; step in and volunteer. Look within your own religious or spiritual community. What needs do you see around you? Where can you make a difference?

You don’t need a lot. Just do what you can, with what you have, to make this world a better place. Your kindness will ripple out farther than you can imagine. Thank you for being here, for reading, and for choosing to be a light.