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Thoughts on the Parsha ~
Parshas Vayakhel
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
Rashi[1]
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 there 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
Chachomim[4]
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 Torah[6]
relates that Aharon had to be the one who brought the makkos because, as
Rashi[7]
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 extra exertion
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
Torah[8]
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.
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