Sanctify the Moment
By Rabbi Pinchos Lipschutz
The parsha this week begins with the words, “Vayakhel Moshe es kol adas bnei Yisroel.” Moshe descended the
mountain the day after Yom Kippur and
all of Klal Yisroel flocked to him to
hear his message.
There is an immediate lesson
here for us, which is relevant throughout the year. The Jewish year, just like
Jewish life, is composed of peaks and valleys, moments of joy and times of pain.
Every moment has its specific avodah,
whether it is a day that is spent entirely in shul or one that is spent
eating and drinking. Even on a more routine day, each moment in a Jew’s life is
laden with opportunity and meaning. Unfortunately, certain times, such as those
that call for more intense avodah may be perceived as more significant than
less intense periods.
The reality is, that time
that passes will never return, and every moment that arrives is unique.
Mimochoras
Yom Kippur
is the day following the most exalted twenty-four hours of the year. How can
you top that? Any day that follows must be a downer, maybe even a day off,
without its own specific recipe for growth.
Our parsha opens on
that day, Mimochoras Yom Kippur, when Moshe Rabbeinu gathered the
nation. As they stood listening to him, they were once again together, b’achdus, and they merited the Mishkon.
The people flocked to listen
to Moshe. They had learned the lesson of the day and understood. Following his
return from Har Sinai after the chet ha’Eigel, Moshe called out,
“Mi laHashem eilay. Everyone who remains with Hashem come to me.” Only
the bnei Levi answered the call. But following their repentance, all the
people recognized that just as every moment has its obligation, so does every
individual have a mission and they came to hear what it was.
After falling and failing in
the mindlessness of the chet ha’Eigel,
after having done teshuvah, the enthused, newly-cleansed nation gathered
around Moshe, the fountain of direction.
We can now appreciate the
power of Moshe Rabbeinu’s message to them.
The parshiyos of Vayakhel
and Pekudei conclude the five parshiyos that discuss the
construction of the Mishkon and its design. The building of the Mishkon
began after Yom Kippur and continued until Rosh Chodesh Nissan.
The work required hundreds of
workers and large amounts of material. To facilitate its construction, there
was a fundraising campaign, in which everyone participated. When the Mishkon
was completed, the festivity lasted twelve days.
Rav Yaakov Kamenetsky points
out the incongruity between the effort exerted into building the Mishkon
and the original intended duration of its existence. The Bnei Yisroel
left Mitzrayim on Pesach and were to travel in the desert until reaching
the Promised Land. Had the sin of the meraglim not taken place,
they would have entered Eretz Yisroel in a matter of months and would not have
wandered in the desert for thirty-nine extra years. Why, then, was so much
effort and expense invested in constructing a temporary edifice? Why all the
specifics, precise merasurements and exhaustive work?
In fact, they teach us a
vital lesson.
Rav Moshe Mordechai
Shulsinger of Bnei Brak maintained a written correspondence with many great men.
He once commented that when gedolei Torah
would respond to his letters during the bein
hazemanim period, they would indicate in their letters that it was bein hazemanim. He noted that Rav Elazar
Menachem Man Shach, however, had a term all his own. He referred to the
intercession as “zeman habeinayim,” or “the in-between zeman.” This, said Rav Moshe
Mordechai, was part of the secret of Rav Shach’s growth and leadership. Each
moment, each day, had a role and mission. Nothing was temporary or without
meaning. The days of relaxation from the frantic yeshiva pace were a zeman of their own.
The Mishkon, epicenter
of holiness, repository of Hashem’s presence on this world, defied time. Although the Mishkon
would be temporary, its effect would be eternal. While it was only meant to
last for several months, it represented the ideal that every day could be spent
in the presence of Hashem. No day, or even part of it, should be taken for
granted or wasted. Every minute is precious and can generate greatness. We know
nothing about which day or which moment in it is most important.
We value rest and relaxation.
We know the value of bein hazemanim and
a change of pace. Everyone needs to relax in their own way, but there is never
off-time.
He
told her to ensure that even though they would be on the run, moving from place
to place, she should do what she could to give each day a sense of permanence
and create a feeling of home. The rebbetzin
would recount how, during the long journey across Europe to what felt like the
end of the earth, she made sure to serve the future rosh yeshiva “breakfast”
- whatever meager food there was - on a plate. She understood that by investing
the day with a feeling of stability, her husband would follow by learning as if
he was back in yeshiva in Telshe.
The rebbetzin said
that she felt that her husband shteiged during
the multi-year journey in a way that others had not because of her father’s
wise directive.
Klal Yisroel, newly-cleansed
from the chet ha’Eigel, desirous of a proper relationship with Hashem,
appreciated the opportunity to construct a dirah batachtonim. And they knew that in a relationship, there
are no off moments. For however long it would stand, they would ensure that the
Mishkon would be a place where Hashem would, kevayachol, be
comfortable.
They understood that building
the Mishkon was an act of teshuvah for their sin and they
immediately responded to the appeal. They engaged in a labor of love,
determined to begin again with a cleansed slate. It did not matter that the Mishkon
was to stand for only a short period of time, for they would take advantage of
the opportunity to become closer to Hashem, and in that zechus they
would enter Eretz Yisroel and
build the permanent Bais Hamikdosh.
They toiled and labored in
joy. They understood that even one moment of hashro’as haShechinah
was worth everything.
As the Mishkon was
completed, Moshe Rabbeinu blessed the Jewish people, stating, “Viyhi noam
Hashem Elokeinu aleinu.” Rav Simcha Scheps explained that they were
blessed upon the completion of the work and not when they began it, because
Moshe knew that there would be an initial burst of enthusiasm for the project.
He didn’t have to bless them at the outset. He feared that the initial euphoria
would wear off and they wouldn’t be able to maintain the proper spiritual levels
to merit the Shechinah remaining among them. It was at the end, with the
task completed and the Mishkon erected, that he was able to look on with
pride at the lesson his people had learned.
In the great mussar yeshivos,
every talmid was infused with an awareness of the greatness inherent in
man, referred to as gadlus ha’adam.
Rav
Shlomo Freifeld would tell of the time he stayed at a Tel Aviv hotel and was eating
breakfast. He noticed a distinguished looking woman enter the hotel dining room
and begin looking around, as if for something in particular. After a while, she
found it: a vase, holding a single flower. She proudly carried the flower to
her table, where she sat down to wait for her husband, who came a few minutes
later.
Her
husband was the Ponovezher Rov.
Rav
Freifeld would say, “When I saw that flower on the table, I understood how the
Ponovezher Rov was able to accomplish so much every day of his life and just
how much of a partner the rebbetzin was.”
Every day is a gift from Hashem and worthy of expending the effort to
construct a Mishkon - a place for Hashem
- in our hearts. Every day presents new opportunities to grow, learn and
achieve greatness. Every day deserves cleanliness and preparation for Godliness.
The posuk states, “Vayavo’u
kol ish asher nesa’o libo” (35:21). Every man “whose heart lifted him” came
to work on the construction of the Mishkon.
The Ramban states that
none of the people who were engaged in building the Mishkon had learned
that trade, nor did they have any previous experience. They were the people who
responded to the call of Hashem. Niso’om libom, their hearts lifted them.
They were consumed with the desire to fulfill the wish of Hashem. They didn’t
say that they weren’t trained for anything that the Mishkon required.
They didn’t say that the work was too difficult. They didn’t say, “Leave it for
someone else to do.” The Mishkon was built by men of greatness who
ignored their shortcomings and pushed themselves to do what they didn’t know
they could, to serve Hashem.
Perhaps, in light of our
understanding, we can appreciate the lesson. Nothing is random. Our year
doesn’t consist of “on-days” and “off-days,” and our nation doesn’t boast
capable people and those who are absolved of work. Every day has its special
light, shone into it by the Master of us all. Look for something positive in
each day and you will find motivation.
They achieved greatness. They
brought the Shechinah to this world. They received the brochah of
Viyihi Noam and the Mishkon lasted much longer than anyone
thought it would. In fact, the Mishkon was never destroyed. It lies in
hiding, waiting for the day when we can appreciate our blessings, the potential
that lies in each moment, and all join together and summon the inner strength
we all possess to put aside differences and work together to reestablish a dirah
laHashem batachtonim.
B’Nissan nigalu ubeNissan asidim lehigoel. Nissan is a month of
redemption. Redemption of time, of people, and of our nation. If we would all
appreciate the gift of time, our personal gifts and the gift of our nation,
singular in the world, we would be redeemed.
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