INSPIRED INTENTIONS: PARSHIOT VAYAKHER/PEKUDEI
Shira Smiles shiur 2015/5775
Summary by Channie Koplowitz Stein
Parshat Pekudie includes a review of many of the components of the Mishkan
as they were being completed. When all is ready, the people try to erect the Mishkan
but are unsuccessful. Then the Torah states: “They
brought the Tabernacle to Moshe, the tent and all its utensils: its hooks, its
planks … the
cover … the
partition curtain …
the Ark of Testimony …”
The question our Commentators asks is that it appears from the list that Bnei
Yisroel brought all the components of the Mishkan to Moshe, yet the verse seems
to begin by saying that they brought the completed Tabernacle (Mishkan)
to Moshe. If they brought all the separate parts to Moshe, as Ramban
understands it, why does the Torah say they brought the Tabernacle, seemingly
already built, especially since the Torah later states that the Mishkan was
erected, in the passive voice, having miraculously built itself, as Rashi
understands it?
Medrash Tanchuma begins to shed some light on this subject, but raises
additional questions in the process. Moshe was saddened because, although he
delivered all the instructions for the Mishkan as per Hashem’s instructions, he
had no personal involvement in the construction itself. Hashem understood that
Moshe wanted to be part of this great mitzvah. When the workmen couldn’t erect the
Tabernacle on their own they brought it to Moshe. Even though Moshe was not
physically strong enough to erect it himself, Hashem told Moshe to start the
process and Hashem would then “lend
His hand” and
complete the process. Moshe would nevertheless be credited for building the Mishkan
based on his deep desire to serve Hashem in this capacity.
Our first question concerns Moshe. When Moshe saw that the workmen couldn’t erect the Mishkan,
why did he wait for the materials to be brought to him rather than go to the
different artisans himself to collect the components? Citing Tanchuma
and then the Maharil Diskin, Rabbi Frand writes that Moshe was trying to
preserve the peace and prevent strife. If Moshe had gone from one person to
another, perhaps someone who was approached later in the process would feel
insulted that he was not approached earlier. By waiting for the workmen to come
to him, no one would feel demeaned and insulted.
One can still ask why it was necessary for Moshe to erect the Mishkan
when he too needed Hashem’s
help to do so. Hashem could have helped the workmen just as easily. Rabbi Zev
Leff, citing the Meshech Chochma, notes that no object or time has
intrinsic holiness except that which is conferred upon it by Hashem through the
Torah and its teachers. Moshe represented the Torah, and only he could invest
the Mishkan with the holiness it needed to serve as a dwelling place for
Hakodosh Boruch Hu. In doing so, Hashem taught us that Torah directives are
given to us through the sages and rabbis of each generation, and that we cannot
sacrifice Torah law to achieve something sacred, whether it’s building the Beit
Hamikdosh or preserving the sanctity of Shabbos. Further, sometimes it is
necessary to deconstruct in order to reconstruct, according to God’s command as taught
to us by our sages and as demonstrated by Moshe’s
building and dismantling the Mishkan each day for seven consecutive days as the
Mishkan was being consecrated.
Along these lines, Rabbi Meislish notes in Sichot Ba’avodat Hashem
that the intention at the beginning of any activity or timeframe will imbue the
entire time with that essence. For this reason, we recite Kiddush on
Friday night, at the onset of Shabbat, rather than during the day so that the
entire Shabbat will be invested with sanctity, and the New Year will begin as a
holy day devoted to Hashem’s
service. The early Christians, lehavdil, understood this concept and
therefore decided to make the first day of the week their “holy day” devoted to their
god and undermine our concept of holiness for the week. What they neglected to
remember, however, was that we begin our day at night, and we do not end
Shabbat at the exact moment it should conclude, but add at least a few minutes
to Shabbat to extend its sanctity to the next day, thereby investing the
beginning of the following week with sanctity.
Here Rabbi Meislish offers a unique interpretation to the adage, “Kol hatchalot
kashot”.
Instead of translating it as “all
beginnings are difficult (hard),”
Rabbi Meislish teaches that “everything
must begin with hard and strong resolve,”
meaning that before performing any mitzvah, from simply reciting a blessing to
observing the most difficult mitzvah, one must first focus and resolve to do
the mitzvah properly for the sake of Heaven, so that even if one falters, that initial
resolve and intention remains in place.
With these two concepts in mind, one can understand why it was necessary that
Moshe be the one to erect the Mishkan. As Rabbi Moshe Goldstein explains
in Shaarei Chaim, Moshe possessed the spiritual strength in additional
to physical strength that Hashem gave him for the task of erecting the Mishkan.
In addition, he was also the humblest of all men so he could nullify his ego
completely to erect the Mishkan totally for Heaven’s sake. Thus only Moshe could imbue
the Mishkan with the proper sanctity from the moment of its inception.
All this, in addition to the emotional pain Moshe felt at not having the
opportunity to participate in the physical construction of the Mishkan, prompted
Hashem to choose him as the perfect person to build the abode for His presence
to rest on earth.
We can now ask an additional question. If Moshe’s
passion to participate in the physical building of the Mishkan, was so
strong that Hashem rewarded him by crediting him with building the Mishkan,
why did Hashem then require Moshe to act on this desire? Rabbi Moshe Egbi in Chochmat
Hamatzpun answers this question by referring to Bnei Yisroel’s preparations for
the first Pascal sacrifice. Bnei Yisroel were commanded to draw the sheep to
their homes in front of the Egyptians, tie it to the bedposts, and slaughter
it. Wasn’t
their belief in Hashem after so many plagues enough to prove their loyalty to
Hakodosh Boruch Hu? Since intention is so important, why go through such a
tedious, demeaning and perhaps dangerous process before slaughtering the sheep?
But in Judaism, intention alone is not enough. Action is required to actualize
thoughts, thereby giving them permanence. Just as Bnei Yisroel were required to
act on their faith, so too was Moshe required to act on his passion before
Hashem would help him complete the process.
Rabbi Wolbe in Aleh Shor concretizes this idea for our own lives. Hashem
wants us each to build a sanctuary within ourselves as a place where He can
dwell. It is not enough just to believe in God and pray that He be near to us;
it is equally important that we act in ways that will create sanctity in our
lives, to perform the mitzvoth that He commanded, and to do so with love,
intent and focus. This may seem overwhelming to us, but, as Rabbi Gamliel
Rabinowitz notes in Tiv Hatorah, the task of erecting the Mishkan
was certainly daunting for Moshe. But Hashem demanded that Moshe begin the
task, and only afterward did Hashem help him complete the job. Similarly, we
must begin our daily battles with the yetzer horo, even if we feel weak,
and count on Hashem to help us. This is true of any task set before us. Hashem
requires us to begin, to act to the best of our ability, writes Rabbi
Wachtfogel, while we nevertheless understand that success is in the hands of
Hashem. For that reason, continues Rabbi Rabinowitz, if we have indeed put in
our best effort, we should not berate ourselves and despair if we don t
succeed, for Hashem alone determines whether the project will be successful or
not.
It seems appropriate now to return to our original verse that implies that Bnei
Yisroel brought a completed Tabernacle to Moshe. In light of what we have just
discussed, Bnei Yisroel had fully intended to erect the Mishkan. They
put in their best effort, but Hashem prevented them from succeeding. But the
effort was not wasted for, as Rabbi Frand points out, Hashem rewards our effort
in learning or in doing good deeds even if circumstances and ability prevent us
from completing the task.
An often successful tactic of the yetzer horo is to make us perceive
ourselves as unworthy of success, or as failures for being unable to complete a
task successfully. But knowing the tactics of our enemy, writes Rabbi Egbi,
will help us defeat him. When we internalize the idea that Hashem determines
the success or failure of our efforts but rewards us for our effort in either
case, we can defeat the yetzer horo. We know how much Hashem values our
inspired intentions, whether in building the communal Mikdash or in building
the personal Mikdash within our own souls.