Parshas VaYaKeil-Pekudei - a thought on the first Rashi

Vayakhel Moshe Es Kol Adas Bnei Yisroel.... And Moshe gathered the entire Assembly of the Children of Israel...." (Shemos 35:1). Rashi responds to his (as always, silent) question - "When did this take place?" by indicating it was on the day after Yom Kippur, when Moshe had returned for the second time with the luchos. The Ramban focuses more on the portion of the phrase "Kol Adas Benei Yisroel" to point out that Moshe assembled the entire congregation (both men and women) because they were about to embark on a new portion of Jewish history reunited with HaShem much as a young couple embarks on its new married life in a state of emotional closeness.

The Kli Yakar offers a unique insight that might well be the combination of these two views. He points out that Rashi explains in Parshat Yisro that Moshe also sat as a judge of Bnei Yisroel on the day after Yom Kippur. The Kli Yakar suggests that Moshe had a new and special need (here in Parshat Vayakhel) to gather and speak to Bnei Yisroel - the building of the Mishkan. It appears the Kli Yakar holds this gathering of Bnei Yisroel took place immediately after Yom Kippur because Moshe needed to stress that the sanctity of the Mishkan could not be impaired by the use of stolen property, and the only way to make sure only proper materials were used, each person would need to ask themselves whether the property they intended to donate or use in the construction of the Mishkan was really theirs and not just in their possession but really the property of another person.

Just like Moshe sat in judgment of property claims following Yom Kippur (as related in Parshat Yisro) Moshe gathered Bnei Yisroel here after Yom Kippur to make sure no one would donate or use property that did not belong to them when the Mishkan was built. Pulling in the perspective of the Ramban, the Kli Yakar offers that the clarification of property rights could best be accomplished immediately after Yom Kippur when all the Jewish people had just come through the (joint) passage of teshuvah.

Vayakhel Moshe Es Kol Adas Bnei Yisroel. - Seven words (if you count the "Es") Six if you don't, and our Mephorshim offer multiple lessons through their explanation of the words of the Torah. From these few words, we learn the importance of close emotional bonds (with one another and with HaShem), the sanctity of the Mishkan and how important it is to respect the property rights of our fellow Jews, and perhaps the hardest lesson of all, that Moshe recognized we are ripe for learning and accepting these lessons perhaps only on the day after Yom Kippur, when we are in the mood to be careful with our fellow Jews. Room for improvement? You bet. Hopefully the lessons in these few words can bring us to the point where we can wake up every day with concern for the sanctity of our fellow Jews property and regard for one another with the care and affection of a newly married couple.

Guest posting by
David Katzenstein

Parshas VaYaKeil-Pekudei - an itemized list

The beginning of part II of this week’s double Torah reading is the sort of thing that my brother, the CPA, probably relishes. The parsha of Pekudei starts: “And these are the accountings of the mishkan, the mishkan of testimony, that were drawn up on Moshe’s command, for the work of the Levities, under the direction of Itamar, son of Aharon the Kohein.” (38:21). Then the parsha lists the different supplies used in the construction, by amount, and explains how each resource was used in the project. This detailed accounting goes on … for 41 verses.

As a non-accountant, I do not get much of a thrill from such a detailed report. So I have to ask: Was this really necessary?

In an essay on this Torah portion in his book “Table Talk,” Rabbi Raphael Pelcovitz asserts that this accounting is essential, as it reflects the standard that Moshe teaches the Jewish people towards the end of his life: “And you shall be clean from God and Israel.” (Numbers/Bamidbar 32:22). This verse, and our Torah reading, are telling us that it is not enough to be convinced of your own ethical standards – a proper Jew must ensure that his activities appear appropriate to his fellow man as well. This imperative is underscored as well by a verse in the Grace After Meals, which we recite far more frequently than we read this week's Torah portion: “And may we find favor and understanding in the eyes of God and man.” (at the end of the BaMoRom paragraph).

The directive of these two verses, and the example in Pekudei, is that we are only acting appropriately when our actions reflect a sensitivity to God and to the concerns of our family, our neighbors, our co-workers, and our community members in mind.

Parshas Tezaveh - can you get the light?

Last week’s Torah portion was focused on the details of the construction of the Mishkan, the traveling sanctuary. This week’s Torah portion is focused largely on the creation of the clothing for the kohanim, the priests of the Mishkan, and the details of their investiture ceremony.

Yet in the middle of all this, there are three verses at the start of this week’s Torah portion that are concerned with securing olive oil and setting up the eternal light in the sanctuary. Why? With all the major details in front of us, why is our attention diverted to the lighting system?

Nehama Leibowitz, echoing earlier commentators, draws a parallel between the instructions for the creation of the Mishkan and the story of the creation of the world. In both instances, light plays a prominent and early role in the respective  narratives. Nehama Leibowitz notes, as well, that light is often employed as a metaphor for Divine wisdom and instruction: “The Lord is my light and salvation” (Psalms 27:1), “For the commandment is a lamp and the Torah a light. (Proverbs 6:23).  We see then that the description of the eternal light is placed here to deliver an essential message - that we should not get lost in the description of a grand structure and the awe-inspiring nature of its attendants. While these details are important, the ultimate objective is to develop a greater awareness of, respect for, and commitment to God’s glory.

I welcome comments on this Dvar Torah. The best way to reach me is through this email address: donlegofzechut@yahoo.com   

Parshas Terumah - mystery supplies

God instructs Moshe to take up a collection, from among the people of Israel, for items needed for the construction of the Mishkan (the portable sanctuary the Jews used in the desert, for 40 years). “This is the offering that you shall take from them: gold, silver and copper. Greenish-blue wool, dark red wool, crimson wool, fine linen, and goats’ hair. Red-dyed ram’s skins, tachash skins, and acacia wood. Oil for the lamp, spices for the anointing oil, and for the incense of aromatic spices. Onyx stones and filling stones for the ephod and breastplate.” (Exodus 25:3-7).

Of all the requested donations, one strikes the commentator Rashi as problematic – the acacia wood. He asks: Where did they get this wood in the desert? He answers the question by quoting from the Midrash Tanchuma, which asserts that the patriarch Jacob prophetically understood that the Jews would build a sanctuary in their desert journey centuries later. So Jacob brought cedar trees with him when he relocated his family to Egypt (towards the end of the book of Bereishis/Genesis), planted the trees there, and instructed his children to take them when they left.

Though the midrash answers an apparent discrepancy quite neatly, I’m left with more questions. One problem I have is that there is another element on the list of donations that is also puzzling, which Rashi does not address. We learn later in the parsha that the artisans working on the Mishkan were to make a large menorah out of one solid block of pure gold (25: 31, as explained by Rashi). Where did the Jews get such a large block of gold? While it is true that the Jews requested and received from their Egyptian neighbors all sorts of valuables, including “gold articles,” right before they departed Egypt (Exodus 12:35), it seems unlikely that any Egyptian would have a large block of solid gold in his home to offer. So where did the Jews get this block of gold?

There are other items on the donation list that may appear as unlikely supplies of a people that rushed into the wilderness after centuries of slavery (such as the incense). The fact that none of the other items receive the same attention from Rashi accentuates the question: Why does the acacia wood alone get this attention from Rashi and the midrash? One possible answer – the wood represents the framework, of both the ark that carried the tablets and the walls of the Mishkan itself. The midrash illustrates the value of our leaders exercising foresight, to plant the seeds (both literal & figurative) for the framework of the next generation’s basic needs.

That answer may work. But are there others?

I welcome comments on this Dvar Torah. The best way to reach me is through this email address: donlegofzechut@yahoo.com