The Heart Before the Force

Parshas Tetzaveh

Posted on March 4, 2020 (5780) By Rabbi Mordechai Kamenetzky | Series: Drasha | Level: Beginner

 

It takes a lot to build a Sanctuary in the desert. And it takes perhaps, even more to adorn the Kohanim (priests) who serve, in beautiful vestments that both symbolize deep spirituality while depicting splendor and glory. You need more than golden threads and fine tapestry. You need more than the ability to weave and design ornate garments. You need devotion, and you need heart. Not ordinary heart. Not the heart that pennant winners have or athletic coaches call for. You need a special type of heart. You need a heart filled with wisdom — Divine wisdom. That is why Hashem commands Moshe to gather “all the wise-hearted people whom I have invested with a spirit of wisdom” to make the priestly garments (Exodus 28:1).

 

But the Torah is unclear. Were these select people Divinely ordained with a spirit of wisdom for this particular mission, or were intrinsic “wise-hearted” people imbued with an extra “spirit of wisdom”?

 

If the former is correct, then what did Hashem add? And if all their wisdom was divinely-gifted, then why didn’t Hashem simply ask Moshe to “gather all the people in whom I have invested a spirit of wisdom”?

 

Rav Sholom Shwadron, the Magid of Jerusalem, of blessed memory, once told a story about the famed Dubno Magid, Rabbi Yaakov Kranz.

 

The Dubno Magid once spoke in a town and a few maskilim (members of the enlightenment movement) attended. After the talk one of the cynics, who was totally unaffected by the warm and inspiring message, approached the famed Magid. “The sages tell us,” began the skeptic, “‘that words from the heart, penetrate the heart.’ Rabbi,” he snickered, “I assume that you spoke from your heart. Your words, however, have had no impact on me whatsoever! How can that be? Why didn’t your words penetrate my heart?”

 

Rabbi Kranz smiled. In his usual fashion, he began with a parable. “A simpleton once went by the workplace of a blacksmith, who was holding a large bellows. After a few squeezes, the flames of the smith’s fire danced with a rage. The man, who always found it difficult to start a fire in his own fireplace, marveled at the contraption. He immediately went and purchased the amazing invention. Entering his home, he smugly announced, “I just discovered how to make a raging fire with the simple squeeze of a lever!”

 

He set a few logs in the cold fireplace and began to push the two ends of the bellows together. Nothing happened. The logs lay cold and lifeless. Embarrassed, the man returned to the blacksmith and explained his predicament. “I want a refund!” he shouted. This blower doesn’t work!”

 

“You yokel,” laughed the experienced blacksmith. “You were blowing on cold logs! You must start a small fire on your own! If you don’t start with a spark, a fire will never erupt!”

The Magid turned toward the maskil and sadly shook his head sadly. “If there is no spark, the largest bellows will not make a fire.”

 

In telling Moshe whom to choose for the sacred task of designing the Mishkan, the Torah tells us how G-d invests. He wants people that were imbued with a ruach chachmah – a sprirt of wisdom. But he prefaces the statement by telling us how one receives spiritual wisdom. The gift of spiritual wisdom does not go to just anyone. Hashem looks for those who have wisdom of heart. Those who understand what it means to be kind, compassionate, and loyal. Those who have the devotion to His will and the desire for more enlightenment get His ordination. The people who were imbued with Hashem’s Divine spirit previously had a spark. And from that spark grew a force – a Divine force – that propelled wise hearts into a Divine spirit of wisdom.

Hashem tells us that we must begin the process on our own. If we supply the heart, He will supply the power to have deep, spiritual, even holy insight. He will supply the force. We must make sure, however, that we put the heart before the force.

 The Eternal Flame of Creativity

Parshas Tetzaveh

Posted on March 5, 2020 (5780) By Rabbi Berel Wein | Series: Rabbi Wein | Level: Beginner

 

The Torah reading of this week establishes for us the commandment of having an eternal flame burn in the Mishkan and later in the Temple in Jerusalem as well. This commandment is repeated regarding the Alter in the Mishkan and in the Temple where an eternal flame was also to be present on the Alter of sacrifices. The concept and symbol of an eternal flame has been repeated throughout Jewish history and is found to be present in all Jewish synagogues throughout the world and throughout the ages.

 

I have often wondered as to the significance of a flame of fire somehow representing eternity. I think that this has to do with the fact that the Torah instructs us to imitate our Creator to the extent that is humanly possible. The first creation of G-d, so to speak, was light, energy, fire if you will. The first invention of man according to Midrash was at the conclusion of the Sabbath when human beings first learned how to create fire. It is the origin of our custom in the Havdala service to have a fire lit, over which we bless G-d for allowing us to create this most necessary of all human inventions.

Fire is a double -edged sword. It warms and lights and it damages and destroys. Like all human inventions, especially those of our modern world over the past century, the use of all inventions contains ambivalence. The invention can be used for great and good things and it also can destroy all that has been accomplished.

 

Fire therefore represents the human capacity for good and for evil. The Torah teaches us that this capacity is an eternal one and that the challenge of having good triumph over evil never disappears. Good provides eternal energy and drives the engine of morality and holiness. Evil also contributes to the advancement of civilization though it must always be controlled and dominated by the good sense of morality that is innate within us.

 

Most advancements in medicine have occurred through discoveries made in trying to heal the wounds of war and violence and the prevention of the spread of plagues and epidemics. In effect, the fire of creativity that is the hallmark of human beings, from infancy onwards, is an eternal gift that the Lord has bestowed upon us. This is perhaps part of the symbolism of the eternal flame described in this week’s Torah reading.

 

Our sense of creativity is symbolized by the eternal flame that burns in our houses of worship. But that flame also burns deep within the the soul of human beings. It is that internal flame that can and should be converted to an eternal flame by good deeds, moral values, and good intentions. Human beings require symbols to actuate noble values and ideas. All the symbols that appear in the Mishkan come to reinforce the value system that the Torah teaches us. An eternal flame represents much more than the burning wick of a candle.

 

Shabbat Shalom
Rabbi Berel Wein

Lost Opportunity

Parshas Tetzaveh

Posted on February 8, 2022 (5782) By Rabbi Moshe Peretz Gilden | Series: Kol HaKollel | Level: Beginner

 

When G-d asked Moshe to assume the mantle of leadership of the Jewish nation, Moshe demurred. “Please, my Lord, I am not a man of words, not since yesterday, nor since the day before yesterday, nor since You first spoke to Your servant, for I am heavy of mouth and heavy of speech.” (Shemos/Exodus 4:10) G-d responded, “Who makes a mouth for a man…is it not I, G-d? So now go! I shall be with your mouth and teach you what you should say.” (ibid 11-12)

 

Moshe, nevertheless, objected and, in His “wrath”, G-d appointed his brother Aaron as Moshe’s interpreter. In the Talmudic analysis of this exchange (Zevachim 102a) Rabbi Yehoshua ben Karcha said that any time the Torah expresses G-d’s “wrath” there is a punishment that befalls the subject of the wrath. But no punishment is mentioned. Rabbi Yosi explains the punishment is alluded to in G-d’s response, “Is there not Aaron your brother the Levite? I know that he will surely speak…” (ibid 14) Aaron was destined to be a simple Levite and Moshe was to be the patriarch of the Kohanim (priests); because of Moshe’s resistance, Aaron “the Levite” was elevated to Kohen in his place. But G-d’s punishment is always “measure for measure”, corresponding directly to the offense. Why, for refusing to speak directly to Pharaoh, did Moshe lose the holy merit of serving as the first Kohen Gadol (High Priest) and fathering the Kehunah (priesthood)?

 

The primary issue – the understanding of which will shed light on the question above – is why G-d insisted on having Moshe, WITH his speech defect, as the spokesman of the Jewish people. Ran (acronym of Rabbeinu Nissim of Gerona, Spain; c.1290-c.1375; famous for his Talmudic commentary) explains in his Drashos HaRan (Discourses of the Ran) that Egyptian society accepted witchcraft as the supernatural force with which the naturally impossible became possible. In G-d’s mission of revealing Himself to the Jews, the Egyptians and the entire world, He strove to have every detail of every facet of the Jewish redemption speak to the fact that G-d and G-d alone is the force that controls everything – natural and supernatural – that exists. Had G-d sent Aaron, a gifted, persuasive orator, to speak to Pharaoh, some would claim that the Jews and the Pharaoh were simply seduced by the lies of a powerful speaker and that this leader was the true liberator of the Jews. Thus, G-d specifically wanted Moshe to have impaired speech and as such to serve as the agent for deliverance. One could only conclude that a great, powerful force was really behind the events, none other than G-d Himself.

 

Parshas Tetzaveh describes the manufacture of all of the priestly garb, clothes that are created “for glory and splendor” (ibid 28:2) Sforno (classic commentary on Pentateuch by Rabbi Ovadiah Sforno of Rome and Bologna, Italy; 1470-1550) expounds that these vestments were worn to glorify G-d. Thus, one of the functions of the Kohen Gadol is to bring the glory and splendor of G-d to our world of the mundane. In contrast, Moshe’s refusal to address Pharaoh directly, which would have brought great honor and splendor to the Divine Name, indicated a lack of preparedness to capitalize on this opportunity. Therefore, Moshe, who in some small measure was unwilling to honor G-d by serving as His spokesman, was punished with losing a lifetime and legacy of glorifying Him.

 

The role of every Jew is to bring the glory of G-d into this world through our mitzvos (fulfillment of Divine commands) and incorporation of G-dliness into our daily conduct of business and interpersonal interaction. Let us heed the lesson that our every action is an opportunity to bring glory to the Divine Name and let us rise to the occasion.

 

Have a Good Shabbos!

  

The Eternal Flame of Creativity

Parshas Tetzaveh

Posted on March 5, 2020 (5780) By Rabbi Berel Wein | Series: Rabbi Wein | Level: Beginner

 

The Torah reading of this week establishes for us the commandment of having an eternal flame burn in the Mishkan and later in the Temple in Jerusalem as well. This commandment is repeated regarding the Alter in the Mishkan and in the Temple where an eternal flame was also to be present on the Alter of sacrifices. The concept and symbol of an eternal flame has been repeated throughout Jewish history and is found to be present in all Jewish synagogues throughout the world and throughout the ages.

 

I have often wondered as to the significance of a flame of fire somehow representing eternity. I think that this has to do with the fact that the Torah instructs us to imitate our Creator to the extent that is humanly possible. The first creation of G-d, so to speak, was light, energy, fire if you will. The first invention of man according to Midrash was at the conclusion of the Sabbath when human beings first learned how to create fire. It is the origin of our custom in the Havdala service to have a fire lit, over which we bless G-d for allowing us to create this most necessary of all human inventions.

Fire is a double -edged sword. It warms and lights and it damages and destroys. Like all human inventions, especially those of our modern world over the past century, the use of all inventions contains ambivalence. The invention can be used for great and good things and it also can destroy all that has been accomplished.

 

Fire therefore represents the human capacity for good and for evil. The Torah teaches us that this capacity is an eternal one and that the challenge of having good triumph over evil never disappears. Good provides eternal energy and drives the engine of morality and holiness. Evil also contributes to the advancement of civilization though it must always be controlled and dominated by the good sense of morality that is innate within us.

 

Most advancements in medicine have occurred through discoveries made in trying to heal the wounds of war and violence and the prevention of the spread of plagues and epidemics. In effect, the fire of creativity that is the hallmark of human beings, from infancy onwards, is an eternal gift that the Lord has bestowed upon us. This is perhaps part of the symbolism of the eternal flame described in this week’s Torah reading.

 

Our sense of creativity is symbolized by the eternal flame that burns in our houses of worship. But that flame also burns deep within the the soul of human beings. It is that internal flame that can and should be converted to an eternal flame by good deeds, moral values, and good intentions. Human beings require symbols to actuate noble values and ideas. All the symbols that appear in the Mishkan come to reinforce the value system that the Torah teaches us. An eternal flame represents much more than the burning wick of a candle.

 

Shabbat Shalom
Rabbi Berel Wein