Men are starving for sanctuary—and many of us don’t know it until we try to rest and can’t.

We live as if “safe” is a luxury item: a week off we never take, a calm we can’t hold, a relationship we keep half-armored because we’re afraid of being needed too much—or not needed at all. The cultural script hands men two options: be the provider with the clenched jaw, or be the performer with the curated vulnerability. Either way, we’re trained to manage our worth like a balance sheet: I give, therefore I matter. I’m in control, therefore I’m safe.

Parashat Terumah offers a different masculine ethic. It doesn’t begin with heroism or conquest. It begins with an instruction so quiet it’s radical: “Take for Me a donation (terumah) from every person whose heart moves them.” (Exodus 25:2) The Mishkan—the portable sanctuary in the wilderness—will be built not by coercion, not by conquest, and not by a charismatic leader extracting loyalty, but by voluntary giving. A sanctuary, Torah insists, can only be made from gifts that are actually gifts.

Here is a correction to modern masculinity: giving without control. Most men aren’t stingy. We give constantly—time, money, labor, problem-solving, emotional steadiness. The issue is the fine print we attach. We give to be indispensable. We give to stay in charge. We give so no one will look too closely at what we can’t offer. We give with leverage: after all I’ve done, you owe........

© The Times of Israel (Blogs)