Parshas Vayakhel-Pekudei - There's a Reason to Give... Even if They Don't Give a Reason

Parshas Vayakhel-Pekudei

There's a Reason to Give... Even if They Don't Give a Reason

By: Daniel Listhaus

וְהַנְּשִׂאִם הֵבִיאוּ אֵת אַבְנֵי הַשֹּׁהַם וְאֵת אַבְנֵי הַמִּלֻּאִים לָאֵפוֹד וְלַחשֶׁן

“The princes brought the shoham stones and the filling stones for the Eiphod and for the Choshen.”

-Vayakhel 35:27

Rashi¹ quotes Rebbe Nassan who points out that when it came to the dedication of the mizbeach (alter),² the Torah relates that the Nesi'im (“princes”) were the first to volunteer whatever they could to ensure that the grand opening of the mizbeach would be a tremendous event with plenty of (karbanos) offerings. However, earlier, when the Mishkan (Tabernacle) was being constructed in this week's parsha, the Nesi'im appear to have been very lazy in their offering to help. By the time the Nesi'im came around to ask how they could help in the building of the Mishkan, everything had already been taken care of. The contributions from every individual of B'nei Yisroel added up to a fund with more than enough needed to meet the expected cost of the Mishkan. The Nesi'im begged for to be something thought up of that was still needed in order that too should have a share in directly contributing the items needed for the Mishkan. They were told that the shoham and me'luim stones for the Eiphod (robe) and Choshen (breastplate) had not yet been contributed, and happily they donated exactly that.

As Rashi explains, the Nesi'im at the time of the construction of the Mishkan were not trying to get out of their dues, rather they had a very good reason as to why they did not contribute immediately. Their calculation was as follows. They were very wealthy individuals and figured that they would wait and let the B'nei Yisroel cover as much as they can – and they would pledge the rest. Rashi continues, though, and writes that because of this laziness to donate right away to the Mishkan, a letter was taken out of their name.³

This Rashi is difficult to understand. The Nesi'im's offer does in fact seem to have been made immediately and also appears to be the most generous offer of them all. After all, if the B'nei Yisroel would as a whole only be able to collect one-percent of the total needed, the Nesi'im were guaranteeing that they would make sure the other ninety-nine percent of expenses would be taken care of. What was wrong with their method? Imagine for a moment that you go out of town for one week in order to collect for an organization which is suffering from a one-million dollar deficit. You knock on the first door and you start describing to the man who answers about the organization you are collecting for and how they are in need of one-million dollars. He responds that you should work hard collecting money for the week and then come back to him and he will be happy to supplement the rest of the funds needed to reach the one-million dollar goal. Certainly one cannot argue that this person is not the most generous – even if it turns out that you were able to collect all the money needed without needing to return to him. Still, he was essentially willing to give you whatever you needed. He was willing to guarantee that your goal would be met no matter what. This seems to be precisely what the Nesi'im did. How could such a method be called lazy and considered as if they were not willing to give anything from the onset?

The Sifsei Chachomim⁴ brings from the Nachalas Yaakov that even though the Nesi'im's intentions were good, they made a fundamental mistake. They assumed that even after collecting from the B'nei Yisroel, there would still be something that would need to be taken care of. However, they underestimated B'nei Yisroel's incredible quality of nedivos (generosity). Jews are rachmanim (merciful) and gomlei chasadim (ones who perform acts of kindness. We are a people who have a desire to help others. The tremendous amount of chesed (kindness) and tzedakah (charity) that we are not only expected to give, but want to give is something that is a unique part of us as a nation. B'nei Yisroel share a deep connection with each other in such a way that we really view ourselves each as a part of the tzubbur (community). Each of us is really only a part of a bigger picture and the things that we are blessed – whether wisdom, skills, money, or any characteristic – are not meant for us alone but for the benefit of the entire B'nei Yisroel. Certainly this is something that we experience during this time of year between Purim and Pesach with mitzvos such as machatzis hashekel (half-shekel) – the idea that each of us is only a part of a bigger picture - matanos l'evyonim (gifts to the poor on Purim) and maos chittim (money given to the poor to buy matza for Pesach). The Nesi'im's mistake was that they assumed that after collecting funds from the B'nei Yisroel to construct the Mishkan, that there would still be some opportunities remaining. However, this was not the case. With the money collected, there was even more than was necessary to complete the Mishkan.

This lesson that we must be like the B'nei Yisroel in the midbar (desert) and view our G-d given abilities – whatever they may be – as things that we must bring to the table to help the tzibbbur, is something that is very true and must be internalized. However, the problem with this Sifsei Chachomim and Rashi is that they seem to conveniently forgetting about the outcome of the story. The story continues that the Nesi'im's donations were actually very much needed because not only had the B'nei Yisroel not gathered the shoham stones, but they as a whole could not even afford to do so if they tried. These precious stones were so expensive, only the Nesi'im had the means to get them.⁵ If so, what was wrong with their method of donation? It all worked out perfectly!

When Hashem decided it was time to bring the makkos (plagues) upon Mitzrayim, the Torah⁶ relates that Aharon had to be the one who brought the makkos because, as Rashi⁷ explains, Moshe was unable to hit the water or sand. The water had protected him as a baby floating in a basket on the Nile River, and the sand had cooperated with him when he needed its help to bury the mitzri that he had killed. In order to express proper hakaras hatov (literally – “recognition of the good [deed]”) to the water and sand, he could not be the one to hit them to bring forth the makkos.

The obvious question on this is two-fold. First, neither the water nor the sand did anything extraordinary. The water just did its job of flowing and the sand did nothing more than just be there on the ground. Why did Moshe need to show hakaros hatov to the sand and water when they really did nothing for him particularly? Furthermore, why was Moshe expected to show gratitude to inanimate objects which do not know that anything is being done for them?

Perhaps the lesson to be learned from here is an insight as to what hakaras hatov really is. Hakaras hatov means recognizing the good. Not necessarily what your friend had to do in order to do the good deed for you, because it is very possible that he did not have to do anything extra at all. For example, imagine someone sees you walking in the rain on the way to shul – where he is heading anyway – and picks you up in his car. In such a case no excertion was necessary on his side, but for you an incredible favor was done nonetheless. So rather, the hakaras hatov comes from recognizing what you received and the fact that he was the one who brought the favor to you. How easy or hard it was for the person to do you a favor is not a reason to appreciate it less, only more. The fact that it may have been easy for him to do you the favor should be independent to the value that you place on having received it.

The Torah⁸ tells us that the Mishkan was built through the highest form of giving – nediv leebo (generous of heart). The B'nei Yisroel did just that and put forth the effort to give what they wanted to give, regardless of what was on the sponsorship opportunity list for the Mishkan. As a matter of fact, the Torah tells us that more than was needed was given. Each person gave all he was able, whether it be his time, advice, or money. The Nesi'im, though, with their approach were perhaps lacking slightly in their nedivos lev. They were more concerned on being able to collect all the funds, when they should have just given according to what they felt they were able to give. How could one give less? Just like when expressing hakaras hatov it is a reflection not on what the other party went through, but rather what you are thankful for and the benefit you received, so too a gift given purely from the heart does not change in size even if others are giving as well. The money towards the Mishkan was more of an expression of love of Hashem and building a house where his shechina could dwell. Such a reason to give resources should have been unaffected by the amount others chose to give.

The Nesi'im, who were the leaders of the shevatim (tribes), were called to task that they should have better understood what was expected of them to be nedivei lev. Fortunately, they learned from this experience and when it came time later for the Chanukas Ha'mizbeach (dedication of the alter), they were the first to volunteer everything that they could.

May it be the will of Hashem to quickly bring the third Beis HaMikdash so that we could all have the ability to join as a world-wide tzibbur and each contribute whatever we can with nedivos lev.

1Shemos 35:27

2Bamidbar 7:1-3

3This is why the word for princes here in the Torah is spelled asנשאם instead of the conventional way of spelling it as follows:נשיאם

4Shemos 35:27

5See Kli Yakar 35:27

6Shemos 7:19, and Shemos 8:12

7Ibid. in both places.

8Shemos 35:5
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