Actoverts

Parshas Vayakhel Pekudei

Posted on March 11, 2021 (5781) By Rabbi Label Lam | Series: Dvar Torah | Level: Beginner

 

 

And he made poles of acacia wood and overlaid them with gold. And he inserted the poles into the rings on the sides of the ark, to carry the ark. And he made an ark cover of pure gold, two and a half cubits long and a cubit and a half wide. (Shemos 37:4-6)

 

There’s a helpful writing tool that is good for giving children feedback on writing and it creates beautiful word art. It’s called WORDLE. When one plugs in a given text the most often used words are amplified and made larger in proportion to the frequency of use. Right away the theme of an essay can be detected or the over usage of a word is on open display. I’ve applied it to the Megillah and you won’t be surprised to discover that “HaMelech” is the BIG WORD of that document! Now if we were to insert the Parshios of this week, verbs would dominate by far, the words, HE MADE and THEY MADE would crowd the Word Cloud by far. Why!?

 

There a few dynamics at play here. The entire Jewish Nation is collaborating harmoniously to create a place for HASHEM in this world. It is unique in its unanimity and maybe only comparable to the time of the giving of the Torah when the all of Israel said, “Naase v Nishma”. The construction of the Mishkan follows the Sin of the Golden Calf, and after Moshe broke the Tablets and went back up to Har Sinai twice to pray for his people for 40 days and 40 nights.

 

Only then after Yom Kippur were the instructions for building such a structure that would invite HASHEM into their midst was delivered. The building of the Mishkan is an exercise in Teshuvah. Everyone is doing whatever it takes to realign himself with The Creator! Nothing is more uncomfortable and dangerous for a person or a nation than to be out of sync with his Maker!

 

I once heard a clever phrase like this, and I find it to be very practical, especially when dealing with children in school, and trying to carefully measure out consequences so that mistakes can become converted to lessons learned. “You can’t talk your way out of a problem you acted your way into!” Doing an offensive act does not lend itself to being mended by a mere expression of “Sorry!” If somebody broke something he has to fix or build it anew! If a relationship was shattered by action it makes sense that it has to be rebuilt with action!

 

Here’s another phrase I find particularly meaningful and practical, and it has backing from the Ramchal and the Sefer HaChinuch. The Ramchal says, “External actions arouse the internality.” The Sefer HaChinuch gives most often for the reason-flavor of a Mitzvah, “A person is affected by his actions”. So the agreeable quote is, “It’s easier to act your way into a better way of feeling than to feel your way into a better way of acting.” The best way to create change with ourselves is to get up and do. Actions speak louder than words, even to ourselves!

There’s an old time debate that’s probably still alive and well. The question is, “Is it better to be an introvert or an extrovert?” A mentor of mine recently explained to me that defining whether or not one is an introvert or an extrovert is a matter of asking one’s self, “Where do I get more energized!” If being still and reading a book or being contemplative juices your life, then maybe you are an introvert. If interacting with people and working a crowd jazzes your day then maybe you are an extrovert. I heard recently that a study was done and the most successful people are “ambiverts”. They get excitement from both, like a tree that has roots in the private realm and branches reaching out to the world, being both intro and extro symbiotically and healthfully feed each other.

 

I would like to propose a 4th category, “Actoverts”. I meet kids that love to help and do. Being active gives them life. This is more so if the task they perform is seen as truly meaningful. Building the Mishkan awakens in us aspects of a nation of actoverts.

 Something From Nothing

Parshas Vayakhel

Posted on February 23, 2022 (5782) By Rabbi Shlomo Jarcaig | Series: Kol HaKollel | Level: Beginner

 

When commanding us to observe the Shabbos (Sabbath), the Torah says, “On six days, work may be done, but the seventh day shall be holy for you, a day of complete rest for G-d; whoever does work on it shall be put to death.” (Shemos/Exodus 35:2) Just as G-d created the world in six days and rested on the seventh, similarly we emulate Him by “creating” for six days and resting on the seventh. The Torah’s “work” is not an issue of effort, exertion, or difficulty. The Talmud explains to us (Shabbos 70a) that the work the Torah prohibits are the 39 categories of creative labor utilized in building the Mishkan (Tabernacle). Why did G-d tell us specifically to refrain from the activities of building the Mishkan in order to emulate him?

 

Rabbi Chaim Friedlander (1) expounds that when G-d created the universe He created something from nothing. There had previously been no physical properties, but with creation G-d generated them. In contrast, when we create physical edifices we are creating something from something. We are merely manipulating the preexisting physical properties to generate a new functionality. But mankind, in its own way, is also capable of creating something from nothing. When the Jews built the Mishkan, they used physical devices and created a spiritual home for the Divine. The process of building the Mishkan is the paradigm of how we can use the physical world to foster spiritual growth.

 

We say in our Shabbos prayers that the Shabbos is the purpose of creation. On Shabbos we cease from our creative activities and focus on the spiritual goals behind them, just like G-d ceased His mundane creating and focused on the purpose behind it all. Shabbos, therefore, is a time to focus on the creative activities we normally perform throughout the week, and to think about the real reasons for doing them. In this way the Shabbos can affect all of our physical activities throughout the week, and turn them into spiritual ones.

 

Have a Good Shabbos!

 

Ceding Control

Parshas Ki Sisa

Posted on February 15, 2022 (5782) By Rabbi Pinchas Avruch | Series: Kol HaKollel | Level: Beginner

 

As Moshe beseeched G-d to restore His closeness and intimacy with the Children of Israel after the Sin of the Golden Calf, he appealed for a greater insight into the G-d’s ways. “And now, if I have indeed found favor in your eyes, make your ways known to me that I may know you…” (Shemos/Exodus 33:13)

 

The Talmud (Tractate Yevamos 7) expounds that Moshe sought to answer the question that has been asked throughout the generations: Why does bad befall the righteous and why do the evil experience good fortune? In general, we find ourselves looking at others and wondering why one businessman succeeds and another – by all appearances equally astute, equally kind, and equally righteous – fails. We are even more unnerved when the one who fails is more virtuous. We are frustrated, even angered, by the apparent injustice of it all.

 

The Chofetz Chaim (1) pondered the visit of a traveler at a guesthouse. In the morning, as the guest prepares to leave and return to his travels, he berates the proprietor for the furniture arrangements around the residence: the heat is too close to the beds, the closet and dresser are on the wrong walls and numerous other such criticisms of planning decisions. The owner replies, “My dear guest, you have never been here before and you came to spend one evening. You expect to be able to intuitively understand all the rationales for the decisions I have made in establishing this inn, and to then submit the requisite corrections for all that you believe I have done wrong? Your limited experience does not equip you with the breadth of view to make substantive recommendations that I should implement.”

 

Rabbi Kagan explains that we in our lifetimes are travelers. In the spectrum of history we are here for a few fleeting moments, yet we insist on having all the answers. Were we to live for a span of centuries with an awareness of every event, conversation and experience in people’s lives we might begin to understand the sequence of events. We would see the family blessed with generations of wealth – funds they used so selflessly for chesed (kindnesses), tzedaka (charity) and beautification of mitzvah observances – lose it as an opportunity to strengthen their G-d consciousness. Meanwhile, the family that lived so faithfully through generations of poverty finds itself grappling with the reality of an unexpected windfall. But without the generations of perspective and the knowledge of the minutiae of the lives of all the involved parties, there is no way for us to even begin to contemplate why G-d presents each person with his lot in life.

 

This reality is not only relevant to viewing other people’s lives, but is germane to appreciating the travails of one’s own existence. Rabbi Avrohom Pam (2) related the story of a Jew who, in spite of having lived his entire life in dire poverty, remained steadfast in his faith, and prayed with intense concentration. Someone once overheard this man reciting the morning blessing, “Blessed are You…who has provided me my every need,” with great joy. Asked the passerby, “Can you really say that your every need has been provided for? You are among the poorest of the poor!” The man replied, “Can one really know, on his own, what his particular needs are? If G-d has made me poor, then obviously this condition is necessary for me to fulfill my purpose in life. Poverty is what my soul needs, and I have been granted this in full measure!”

 

Man has immense difficulty relinquishing control over aspects of his own life, no less conceding a complete lack of control of the circumstances of his life and those around him. But there is one facet over which we DO have complete and absolute control: our response to those circumstances. Every person’s affairs are personally tailored by the Master of the Universe to facilitate the growth he needs to maximize his spiritual potential; our responses determine the growth we glean from each of these experiential opportunities. The more we focus on our charge and trust G-d to manage His realm, the greater we will grow and the happier we will be.

 

Have a Good Shabbos!

 

 

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

 

 

Asking the Impossible

Parshas Terumah

Posted on February 26, 2020 (5780) By Rabbi Naftali Reich | Series: Legacy | Level: Beginner

 

What is the point of asking someone to do the impossible? What is to be gained by having a person make the attempt and fail? In bringing up our children, we are always careful to demand of them only what they can realistically accomplish. Otherwise, we would be setting them up for failure. Yet in this week’s parashah, we find that Hashem does exactly the opposite.

 

“And you shall make a menorah of pure gold, hammered,” Hashem told Moses, “the menorah will be made.” The Midrash observes that at first Moses was commanded “to make a menorah,” but much as he tried, he was unable to produce it according to the Torah’s specifications. Finally, Hashem told him to throw the gold into the fire and “the menorah will be made” by itself – miraculously.

 

We can safely assume that Moses, the greatest man who ever lived, made the most valiant attempt to fulfill the commandment of making a menorah, that he exerted himself to the full extent of his considerable talents and abilities. And yet he failed. Surely, then, it was not humanly possible to create such a menorah by any means short of a miracle. If so, why did Hashem command Moses to produce a menorah when He knew failure was guaranteed? Why didn’t Hashem produce the menorah miraculously right from the beginning?

 

A similar question arises earlier in the parashah, where we find an interesting paradox. The Torah commands that the Holy Ark be carried by long wooden rods inserted through golden rings in its sides, and that these rods never be removed; other Tabernacle furnishings were also carried by similar means, but there is no prohibition against removing the rods. Why was it so important that the rods of the Holy Ark never be removed? After all, our Sages tell us that the Holy Ark traveled under its own power and actually carried its bearers with it. The act of carrying was only an illusion. In real terms, however, the bearers of the Holy Ark contributed nothing to its transportation, and yet, here in particular, special emphasis is placed on keeping the rods of the bearers in place. Why is this so?

 

The commentators explain that a profound lesson is being taught here. Every person in the world is obligated to accomplish as much good as he possibly can. He is obligated to provide for his family, help those less fortunate than himself, support institutions of Torah and charity. This is called hishtadlus. Although a person knows that in the final analysis Hashem controls the world and everything that happens in it, he should not say, “Why should I bother when it is all up to Hashem anyway?” Hashem wants all people to exert themselves to the full extent of their abilities, as if it were all up to them. Then – and only then – does Hashem reward their efforts.

True, the Holy Ark carried itself, and it is for this very reason that the rods must never be removed. Don’t delude yourself, says the Torah, into thinking you don’t need to lift up the rods because it won’t make a difference anyway. The omnipresent rods are there to remind you that you are always obligated to do your utmost – no matter what.

 

For this same reason, Hashem commanded Moses to make the menorah, even though He knew it was impossible. Again we are being taught the same lesson. A person is required to try to the best of his ability, regardless of whether he can assume that his efforts will be crowned with success. Moses was rewarded for all his exertions in the attempt to make the menorah, even though in the end it took a miracle to produce it.

 

In our own lives, we too are sometimes overwhelmed by the daunting tasks that face us, whether in our private lives, the workplace or our obligations to the community. We sometimes cannot see how we will ever achieve success, and therefore, we become discouraged and lose heart. Let us draw on the lessons of the golden menorah and the Holy Ark. Let us reflect on the deeper truths of existence, that success and failure are never in our own power, that all we can do is try. And let us pray to Hashem that He look kindly upon our sincere efforts and bless them with success – even if it takes a miracle.

 

Text Copyright © 2007 by Rabbi Naftali Reich and Torah.org.

Rabbi Reich is on the faculty of the Ohr Somayach Tanebaum Education Center.

 

 

The Wealth Challenge

Parshas Terumah

Posted on February 26, 2020 (5780) By Rabbi Berel Wein | Series: Rabbi Wein | Level: Beginner

 

One of the greatest problems that has dogged religious life throughout the centuries is the place of material wealth and money in the structure of religious life. It is obvious to all that wealth corrupts and sullies noble programs and plans., The question boils down to the eternal issue as to whether the noble ends – Jewish education, synagogue worship, social charitable endeavors — justify the means, as the process often borders on the unethical procurement of money.

 

Monetary scandals have plagued all religious projects and ambitions from time immemorial. The fact that the goal trying to be achieved is so noble and morally necessary, makes the temptation to deviate from correct probity and proper behavior in fund raising and monetary conduct all the more tempting. Unfortunately, the history of religion is littered with monetary scandals driven by poor decisions.

 

The prophets of Israel decried this situation during First Temple times, but apparently to little avail. Religion sadly has a tendency to transform itself into a business, a commercial enterprise. And this always leads to the desecration of G-d’s name and catastrophic disasters. Many commentaries and scholars have stated that this monetary corruption was the real basis for the destruction of the Temples themselves, and the continued cessation of Temple service even until our very day. Even buildings and programs conceived in holiness and founded by the most righteous of people are susceptible, over time, to fall into the trap of monetary scandal. I need not and will not enumerate specific examples of this weakness, but all of us are aware of their existence and sad influence.

 

Yet, despite all of this, these dangers are almost inevitable.  This week’s Torah reading combines the ideas of holy service to G-d with the necessity of fund raising and material wealth. The Torah apparently is of the opinion that the benefits of channeling and using money for noble good outweighs the dangers inherent in combining religion with wealth and money.

In fact, this is the pattern of the Torah in all natters of everyday life, events and society.

 

Judaism does not allow for excess ascetism or hermit-like lifestyles. We are always somehow to be engaged in this world, tawdry and flawed as it may be. Yet the challenge is to somehow remain a holy people, a kingdom of priests, while dealing with these challenges that mark our daily lives and society. The holy tabernacle/mishkan is to be constructed through heartfelt donations of material wealth and personal volunteerism. Though religion and faith are corrupted by monetary issues, wealth applied correctly and through a generous hand can enhance and even ennoble religion.

 

Moshe was shown a coin of fire in Heaven. It could burn and destroy, but it could also warm and light the way. The word Terumah itself, in its literal sense, means to uplift and raise. Wealth properly used and applied can be the engine that propels all holy endeavors forward. As it was in the time of Moshe, so, too, does it remain one of the greatest challenges in Jewish life.

 

Shabbat shalom
Rabbi Berel Wein