Good Hearted

By Rabbi Pinchos Lipschutz

This week in Parshas Vayakhel, the Torah continues with the discussion of matters concerning the construction of the Mishkon. Though these topics have been discussed in the past few parshiyos, there are many lessons contained here, relevant to us in our daily lives.

The posuk (Shemos 35:27) states that the Nesi’im donated the precious stones that were needed for the Eifod and the Choshen. Rashi cites the Medrash Rabbah, which says that the Nesi’im were the last to donate to the Mishkon. They reasoned that they would wait until everyone else had made their donations and they would bring what was lacking.

Though it would appear that the intention to donate anything that was lacking was generous, and in fact their donation was the most expensive, the Medrash says that the thinking of the Nesi’im was born of laziness.

Rav Chaim Shmulevitz explains that when Hashem issued the request for the people to come forth with material that would be required for the Mishkon, they should have responded immediately and not made calculations. When Hashem says to do something, we do it first and make cheshbonos later.

This, perhaps, is included in the words of acceptance of Klal Yisroel when Hashem offered them the Torah. They famously responded, “Naaseh v’nishma - We will do and we will hear.” Included in that statement was the promise that when Hashem asks something of them, they would first rush to do it and leave the questions and rationalizations for later.

This is borne out by the Ramban (Shemos 35:21), who writes that the term “nesius lev,” which the posuk uses to describe the men who accepted upon themselves the task of building the Mishkon, refers to what drove them to undertake the task.

Nesius lev, the Ramban says, refers to their ability to raise their hearts above all else in order to fulfill Hashem’s directive. Though those people were neither trained nor experienced in any of the professions essential to the construction of the Mishkon, they dedicated themselves to the task anyway.

When a person is confronted with a task that they have never performed or know anything about, they can either say that it is not for them or they can devote themselves to studying the mission and learning how to go about carrying it out.

The people who say that it is not for them, and leave it for someone else to accept the job, are lazy. Those with nesius lev raise themselves above their natural inclination and set about accomplishing great things. They find within themselves abilities they never knew they possessed.

“Pischu li pesach kechudo shel machat,” Hashem declares. Your obligation is to exert yourself. And even if you are only able to open the door a tiny crack, “va’ani eftach lochem k’pischo shel ulam, I will open the door wide open for you.”

Our task is to appreciate what must be done and do what we can to accomplish the will of Hashem. We do hishtadlus and Hashem will help us accomplish the goal.

Betzalel and the people who worked with him had recently left Mitzrayim, where they and their people had been working as poor slaves making bricks and fashioning buildings from them. They had no experience with the finer arts and craftsmanship essential for working with silver, gold, copper and fine materials. Yet, when Moshe called upon them, they did not respond to him that they couldn’t be expected to do the job. “Niso’om libom.” They immediately acceded to his request.

This is the explanation of the posuk (31:6) which states, “Ubeleiv kol chacham leiv nosati chochmah - And into the hearts of those with wise hearts I have placed knowledge.” Many question that if they were wise, why was it necessary to provide them with wisdom?

We can explain that their wisdom consisted of the nesius lev. They were smart enough to jump at the opportunity to have a role in the Mishkon Hashem. They didn’t offer excuses and reasons why they could not be expected to be charged with putting together the Mishkon. And since they had the wisdom to accept to do the will of Hashem, He placed within them the ability to complete the task they had undertaken. Thus, they were able to craft the Divine instruments and the Mishkon itself.

In our lives, as well, when called upon, we mustn’t offer excuses, even good ones, for not getting involved, for not doing the right thing, or for not extending ourselves to help expand the gevulos hakedusha. Doing so certifies us as lazy. Were we concerned about the plight of Torah and Bnei Torah, if we cared about preserving the pach shemen tahor, the purity of Am Yisroel, we would not shirk our responsibility. We would open our hearts b’nesius lev, doing what is asked of us. It may be difficult, and we may think that it is beyond our ability, but as those whose hearts have carried them have demonstrated throughout the ages until this very day, those who answer the call benefit from Divine assistance and are able to accomplish the impossible.

Look at the number of yeshivos, schools and institutions of chesed started by regular people like you and I, who, blessed with nesius lev, undertook projects much larger than themselves and were granted heavy doses of siyata diShmaya. Look at the people who undertook to raise millions of dollars for Torah and good causes. They didn’t know how they would realize their goal, but along the way, Hashem set them up with many fine people, nedivei lev, who extended themselves to assist in the construction and maintenance of the Mishkon.

That is the secret not only of our endurance, but also of our unprecedented growth over the past years.

When given a job, we do it. We accept upon ourselves to get the job done. We begin with faith, with emunah and bitachon that Hakadosh Boruch Hu will help us in what it is that we are doing. Every step we take in life requires faith and determination - faith in our abilities and in Hashem, and determination not to fail and to see our way through.

From when we were young children taking our very first steps through all the stages of our physical and spiritual development, if we would have said, “I’ve never done this before. This job is not for me,” where would we be now? We would not have gotten too far in life.

Way back when, we were handed our Alef-Bais book in primary. We were overwhelmed. How could we ever be expected to know all those letters by heart? And when we finally mastered all the letters and were celebrated with a grand party, we were then given a siddur. It was confounding. And so it went when we first studied Chumash and so it continued. At every step of the way, we were overwhelmed, but because we accepted the challenge, we continued to increase our knowledge and ability. And so it is as we advance through life. Those who fear taking the next step are left behind, as the others step into the unknown with resolve and faith.

Leibel Kutner, a Polish chossid, was imprisoned by the Nazis in a work camp. After working twelve hours straight in a munitions factory, the machine that powered the enterprise gave out and sputtered into silence. Everything stopped. The Nazi commandant searched around the large room, finally settling upon Leibel. “You, fix the machine.”

Leibel protested, “How can I fix the machine? What do I know about machines, especially a complicated one with many moving parts such as this one? How can I be expected to get it in working order?”

The wicked commander barked at him, “Du bist ein Jude. You are a Jew. Kunst du – You can figure it out.”

That night, Leibel worked feverishly on the machine, taking it apart and putting it back together, as the rest of the camp stood by nervously, unsure of what would happen if he would not be able to get the gears turning once again.

Suddenly, it gave a jerk and began roaring to life. The astounded Nazi returned to the room and was just as surprised as everyone else.

Poor Leibel in the work camp is an extreme example, but we must all know that as long as we are proud bnei Avrohom, Yitzchok and Yaakov, we can do it. We can move on to the next level as long as we recognize that it is Hashem who is holding our hand as we advance.

The following may be a simple story, but as I began thinking of returning to Eretz Yisroel now that it is “opening up,” this anecdote about a man’s faith in Hashem guiding him popped into my head.

During a previous visit to Yerushalayim, I stood on a street corner in an unfamiliar neighborhood and waited in vain for a taxi to drive by. It was a stifling hot day and there was no place to hide from the sun.

There is no better place to be reminded of the beauty of Jews than in Yerushalayim, and quite often, it is a taxi driver who delivers that reminder.

I saw a car slowly rolling down the hill and stuck out my hand to signal for him to stop. The driver of a gleaming new car stopped next to me and asked me to come inside and sit down next to him. I looked into the car and saw someone in the back seat. I asked the driver if the other passenger was okay with me joining. He assured me that it was fine, so I entered and sat down.

The driver had a huge smile on his face as he welcomed me into his car.

He laughed out loud and said that Hashem had sent him to pick me up. “Ha’Elokim shalach oti eilecha.”

I certainly agreed and was happy to be ensconced in a gorgeous air-conditioned car, but the driver didn’t seem religious and I wondered what possessed him to announce that Hashem sent him to me.

He was taking the other passenger to an office on a different street, but made a wrong turn and ended up on the street where I stood.

With typical Israeli taxi-driver bravado, he told me, “Never before have I made a wrong turn. I never get lost. So if I’m on this street, I’m clearly not lost. Clearly, ha’Elokim shalach oti lepo lakachat otcha. Hashem sent me here to pick you up.”

After he dropped off the passenger, he explained the reason for his happiness. The car was brand new; I was the fourth person to sit in it. It was a fancy vehicle, and his wife was very annoyed with him that he spent so much money on the car.

“Atah ro’eh? See how Hashem is looking out for me? I was thinking that maybe she is right. But now I see once again how ha’Elokim ozer li. He sent me here to pick you up while I still had another passenger in the car. Ha’Elokim wants to show me how He provides for me. He made me get lost in order to find you and be reminded that everything comes from Him.

“Ha’Elokim shalach oti eilecha to remind me that every passenger I get is from Him and that He is always looking out for me and helping me.

“He sent me on a mission to pick up a Jew who was hot to teach me that lesson.”

I know you were expecting a better story, a better moshol, to drive home the point, but I think that it demonstrates the faith of a simple person that Hashem assists him as he goes about earning his living. He overextended himself for his business and rejoices as “ha’Elokim” puts more shekels in his pocket.

All of us, no matter what it is that we do - from real estate investors and nursing home owners to rabbeim and moros and people trying to get through school - need to know that what we have is from Hashem hu ha’Elokim.

We need to be reminded that when spiritual opportunities present themselves and require us to go where we have never gone before, we must not be lazy. If we undertake to accomplish good things, Hashem will be there for us, assisting us and providing the strength and ability to persevere and succeed.

Peace, Brother.

By Rabbi Pinchos Lipschutz

Parshas Ki Sisa contains apexes of glory and splendor, depths of catastrophe, and a cataclysmic blow, followed by the greatest message of forgiveness in the Torah.

The tragic error and climb back to teshuvah resound through the ages.

The Bnei Yisroel were counted, and they learned of the ketores and its powers. Hashem told Moshe that he had selected Betzalel to construct the Mishkon, its keilim, and the bigdei kehunah. The gift of Shabbos was granted to us, and Moshe was presented the luchos that Hashem had written.

But then the people sinned and constructed the Eigel, changing the trajectory of history until this very day. Moshe descended from atop the mountain with diminished greatness. Witnessing the scene of depravity, he shattered the luchos Hashem had handed him to present to the Jewish people.

Moshe summoned all who cared about the rapid degradation of Am Yisroel. Alas, it was only the tribe of Levi that rallied with him to wage war against the sinners.

Hashem wanted to destroy the Jews, but relented after Moshe’s pleas and quick action. Moshe was allowed to climb the mountain once again and transcribe the luchos. Hashem revealed the 13 Middos to Moshe and promised to allow the nation to enter The Promised Land.

It is apparent that as those who gave birth to the Eigel strengthened and accomplished their goal, Moshe weakened. The instigators of the Eigel, which they said would lead the Jews as they believed Moshe’s return from the mountain had been delayed, were the Eirev Rav, who had joined the Jewish people as they exited Mitzrayim. When they succeeded in persuading Aharon to tentatively accede to their plan, Moshe was commanded, “Lech reid.” He was instructed to go down and return to his people.

Chazal say (Brachos 32a) that in commanding, “Lech reid,” Hashem was saying, “Go down from your greatness, for I have only made you great because of Yisroel, and now that Yisroel has sinned, of what use are you?”

Very strong words.

The Peirush HaGra on Chumash (Shemos 32:7), quoting the Tikkunei Zohar, says, “Ispashuta d’Moshe bechol dor vador. In every generation, there is a nitzutz, a part of the neshomah, of Moshe Rabbeinu present in one great man.” Through him, the light of Torah is transmitted to the talmidei chachomim of the generation. All the chiddushei Torah that are nischadeish in the world is through the “hashpo’as ohr,” influence, of Moshe Rabbeinu.

Several times a week, we say, “Vezos haTorah asher som Moshe lifnei bnei Yisroel…beyad Moshe.” We extend our fingers and try to see the holy letters on the parchment, proclaiming not just that the words form our Torah, but that the Torah was given specifically through Moshe.

The repeated testimony to this fact - not just that the Torah is ours, but that Moshe is the one who gives it to us - underscores the fact that we are recipients. “Tov ayin hu yevorach - One who has a bountiful eye will be blessed” (Mishlei 22:9). This, Chazal teach us, refers to Moshe, who had the ultimate ayin tovah: He gave us the Torah and the ability to plumb its depths. He gave us the koach to “own” Torah.

The chet ha’Eigel put that whole gift in jeopardy.

At the time of the Eigel, Moshe became weakened to such a degree that the luchos were broken, causing a diminution of Torah knowledge and leading to all the exiles our people have since endured.

The Vilna Gaon writes (Even Sheleimah 13:8) that in our time, the Eirev Rav is basically composed of five groups of people: baalei machlokes and lashon hora, baalei ta’avah, hypocrites, people who seek honor to make a name for themselves, and people who crave money. He continues: “The worst are those who cause machlokes, and they are Amaleikim. Moshiach will not arrive until the world is rid of them.”

The Torah, in the opening of this week’s parsha, teaches us what we can do to help deter those practices from our people and help bring about the arrival of Moshiach. The parsha opens with the commandment of counting the Jewish people following the sin of the Eigel (Rashi). Instead of counting the people individually one by one, each person donated a half-shekel coin to the Mishkon and the coins were counted. 

The posuk states that by conducting the census in this way, the act of counting would not bring on a plague, and each person’s donated coin would help forgive him for his sins.

Many commentators discuss what it is about the counting of Jews that causes a plague and why counting coins is better.

A simple explanation is that when all people are counted equally, it shows that each person is as important as the next. No one should view themselves as being better than others, and no person should ever consider themselves worse than everyone else. Similarly, even if someone has made mistakes in their life and is not doing well, they shouldn’t feel as if they are destined for failure and life as a second-class person. Everyone can come back. Everyone can improve and get back to where they ought to be.

People try tracing what happened to someone they know who left the path, and they find that it wasn’t one major step that sent them tumbling. It was small things that followed each other, each one minor by itself, but as they occurred, the person began feeling like a loser. They gave up on ever being able to rectify themselves and get back into the good graces of those in whose eyes they would have wanted to find favor. So instead of working to climb back to where they could have been and belonged, they slipped further and further away.

The Torah’s census demonstrated to all that even though they may have hit a rough patch and veered off, they are still loved by Hashem and their path to return is waiting for them.

Rav Tzadok Hakohein of Lublin writes (Tzidkas Hatzaddik 154) that just as a person is obligated to believe in Hashem, a person is obligated to believe in himself. No one should ever give up on himself and feel that all hope is lost and he is too far gone. In whatever position a person finds himself, he has what it takes to climb back up and excel once again. Everyone counts.

The most often quoted explanation is from the Alshich, who quotes Rav Shlomo Alkabetz, author of Lecha Dodi and the classic sefer Manos Levi on Megillas Esther, who says that each person contributes a half-shekel to demonstrate that every individual on their own is not whole. We only become complete and worthy of being counted as a member of Klal Yisroel when we live b’achdus with our brethren. If we are aloof, apathetic and alone, we don’t count, so to speak.

Rav Yitzchok Eizik Chover explains that the counting was not to determine how many separate people there were, but rather to bring the people together and count them all as one unit.

Additionally, the posuk states, “He’oshir lo yarbeh vehadal lo yamit,” the rich man should not give more than a half-shekel and the poor man should not give less. The count is conducted to remind the Jewish people to rectify the sin that causes the Shechinah to be removed from among them, namely machlokes and peirud.

At the root of every machlokes is ga’avah, when one person feels that he is better than the other. Such feelings lead to squabbles among Jews and the departure of the Shechinah.

Therefore, the Torah calls for everyone to contribute the same small amount to signify that nobody knows their value in the eyes of Hashem and people should view each other as equals. This leads to forgiveness of sins through the census, for the feelings of equality remove sinas chinom and machlokes, and thus leads to achdus. When there is achdus among the Jewish people, the Shechinah returns.

Rav Chover adds that when there is achdus among Jews, they are able to help each other improve. When people despise each other, they cannot offer reproach or help. When two people are squabbling and one of them sees the other doing something wrong, he smiles, fantasizing about how he can spread virally what he saw and cause the person much pain and anguish. Even were he to reprimand the person who acted wrongly, the person wouldn’t accept the tochacha and suggestions for improvement, because he would feel that the other person is mocking him and seeking his downfall.

If we cannot be mochiach each other, then people won’t improve, and we will stray further and continue to act foolishly.

In the spirit of Purim Koton which falls this week, we can offer that Mordechai Hayehudi was a champion of achdus and searched for ways to bring the Jewish people together to counter Haman. As a grandson of Amaleik, Haman’s ability to destroy the Jews would only be effective if the Jews remained divided. He enacted decrees and sought to scare and divide them further, but because Mordechai worked to bring the Jews together, Haman’s plot failed.

In our day, as well, we have to work to bring people together, to end acrimony, hatred and jealousy.

We need to connect to our brethren and understand what lies in the hearts of the members of our nation and what keeps them awake at night. And then we need to do what we can to help them.

What are their worries? What are their concerns? What do they want from life? Do they learn? Do they daven? Do they have any ambition? Do they want to excel at anything? If not, why not? Are they making ends meet? Do they have a decent place to live? Can they afford their rent or mortgage? Are they happy with the way their children are turning out? How is their health?

If you care about them, and you should, figure out how to reach and affect them, to inspire and offer direction and support in trying times.

We live in a very dangerous time.

Russian President Putin sees President Biden’s weakness as an opportunity to rope in a reluctant neighbor. He ramped up his army and surrounded Ukraine on three sides at he threatened a war which would cause untold human misery and harm to the Western world, to elicit a promise that Ukraine would not join NATO. The world quaked in fear and the threat remains.

The American people have tired of lockdowns, mandates, masks, and other failed government policies nobody any longer believes have anything to do with science. Inflation is worse than it’s been since the days of Jimmy Carter, as people have little trust in government anymore.

Iran is rapidly closing in on obtaining a nuclear weapon than ever, and once again, nobody seems able to stop them, preventing the world from becoming much more dangerous. China also sensing American weakness is up to no good, as American threats don’t intimidate them from their expansionist desires.

The reshoim who conned their way into controlling the Israeli government have no positive accomplishments to point to. They shamelessly try to create more hatred and division in the country, going so far as to blame rising inflation on the chareidim, as if the chareidim have anything to do with the failing government’s many missteps.

The gang in power is going to great lengths to destroy everything religious in the state. You would think that kosher phones are of no concern to them. Why should they care if certain people want to connect with limited technology? But nothing is beneath those who are evil.

Every day, they target another facet of religious life, from dumping rabbonim chashuvim, to destroying kashrus and marriage, to corrupting conversion until it becomes a meaningless fictitious ritual. That’s not enough. They want to defile the holiest place on earth, starve children of kollel families, and close yeshivos.

Their plans are reminiscent of the days of the evil czars my great-grandfather writes about in his classic Zichron Yaakov. Gedolim traveled from across the Jewish world to hold meetings in St. Petersburg and other capitals, working together to quash the plans conspired to crush religious Jewry.

What are we to do? Three times a day, in the final brocha of Shemoneh Esrei, we daven for peace: Sim shalom. Shalom rov.

The Yaaros Devash says that this is what we should be thinking as we are about to recite the tefillah. The only receptacle that can hold brocha is peace, shalom. We should daven that there be no machlokes, jealousy, hatred and rivalry among Klal Yisroel; that everyone should love each other, united in the strongest way possible with love, brotherhood and friendship, and all of Klal Yisroel should be as one nefesh. And we should daven not to have the middah of kaas, anger, but rather be humble to all, because where there is anger, there is no peace. 

We have our work cut out for us. The world is a powder keg, ready to blow up at any time. As we engage in tefillah and teshuvah as is incumbent in times such as these, let us work to bring about peace amongst us so that this period of chevlei Moshiach will end quickly with the arrival of Moshiach speedily in our day.

A Giving People

By Rabbi Pinchos Lipschutz

The Chofetz Chaim would invest much effort into choosing the right people to raise funds for his yeshiva. He would explain that the posuk in last week’s parsha states, “Veyikchu li terumah,” meaning that the appointed people shall collect contributions to the Mishkon. It doesn’t say, “Veyitnu li terumah,” that the people should donate to the Mishkon.

This is because the Jewish people are generous and understanding, and they respond to appeals for financial assistance. What is needed are proper, qualified, trustworthy, and energetic people to collect money from the masses.

He would add that the primary qualification for a fundraiser for a yeshiva is someone who is adept at battling the yeitzer hora. This is because the yeitzer hora abhors seeing people donate to Torah causes, for he knows that doing so reaps many rewards for the donors, enabling them to overcome his efforts to mislead them.

It is much more effective for the yeitzer hora to target the fundraisers, seeking to weaken their resolve, than going after individual donors to convince them not to give. By demoralizing one fundraiser, he can accomplish more than by working on one hundred people and trying to convince them not to give. It is much harder work, and just as he endeavors to make people lazy, he also looks for the easier way to get the job done.

There is a common expression, “Yisroel nitboim venosnim,” Klal Yisroel generously responds when solicited, (based on a Chazal in Yerushalmi Shekolim 1a). The roots of the thousands of shuls, yeshivos and mekomos haTorah from Israel to Spain, Egypt, Morocco, Poland, Lithuania, Russia, the United States, Australia, Hungary, Poland, Brazil, Argentina, Canada and everywhere in between are found in the parshiyos of these weeks.

There are many firsts celebrated in our world, many events that are termed historic. The parshiyos of Terumah and Tetzaveh are the first recorded campaigns of any type. The first construction campaign was for the Mishkon, as we learned in Parshas Terumah last week. The Bnei Yisroel, with generous hearts, contributed more than enough of the supplies that were required to construct the first home for the Shechinah.

In this week’s parsha of Tetzaveh, the opening appeal was for shemen zayis zoch, the first drop of oil squeezed from olives, which was used to fuel the menorah. Moshe Rabbeinu is told, “Ve’atah tetzaveh…And you shall command the people to bring donations of pure olive oil” (27:20).

The donations for the Mishkon, as described in last week’s parsha, were not actively solicited, but were accepted from people who, on their own volition, chose to donate them. In this week’s parsha, Hashem told Moshe to command the Jewish people to donate the specially pressed olive oil. Several explanations are offered as to why regarding the contribution of shemen zayis zoch, the posuk uses the word “tzav,” which denotes that it is a command, not a suggestion. One is that preparing the menorah’s oil was a cumbersome and time-consuming task; hence the term “tzav.” Another explanation is that the donations to the Mishkon were a one-time occurrence and the need for oil for the menorah was ongoing for generations.

A few pesukim later (28:3), Moshe is told, “Ve’atah tedaber el kol chachmei lev asher mileisiv ruach chochmah – And you shall speak to the wise of heart whom I have filled with the spirit of wisdom,” and discuss with them the obligation to fashion the special clothing the kohanim wore as they performed the avodah in the Mishkon.

When it came to the bigdei kehunah, Hashem didn’t tell Moshe to demand that the capable people tailor the clothing the kohanim would wear in the Mishkon. Rather, He directed Moshe to tell them what was needed. This is because when addressing perceptive, insightful people, implicit speech is sufficient. They get it. They are able to perceive the opportunity to contribute and appreciate the role they can play in the house of Hashem. They don’t have to be cajoled and persuaded.

Throughout our long history, any time a need arose, there were two reactions. There were people who had to be forced to participate, prodded and embarrassed into contributing. Then there were those who were smart and good enough to be generous, kind and giving. When the Moshe Rabbeinu of the generation asked for something, the people came forward.

It is thanks to goodhearted people that we have been able to survive through the ages and thrive in times such as today, when, thankfully, we are blessed with people who understand their role in sustaining others and supporting Torah mosdos at historic levels. Look at all the good that goes on in our world. Look at the people who write large checks, one after another, on a regular basis, enabling our community to grow and flourish at unprecedented levels. They have been blessed by Hakadosh Boruch Hu with financial success and appreciate that their gifts come with responsibilities.

The theme of recognizing our obligations resonates throughout the parsha.

Moshe Rabbeinu’s name does not appear in Parshas Tetzaveh, even though he took a very active role in everything described in the parsha, for reasons connected to this theme.

When Hashem saw that Moshe stopped to gaze at the phenomenon of the burning bush (Shemos 4:14), He saw in him the potential for greatness and leadership, and told Moshe that He would be sending him to lead the people out of servitude. However, Moshe demurred and Hashem became angry with him. The posuk states, “Vayichar af Hashem,” Hashem was very upset with Moshe, but the posuk doesn’t expound on the effect of the anger.

Rabi Shimon bar Yochai (Zevochim 102a) suggests that Moshe was in line to receive kehunah as well as malchus. He forfeited the opportunity for kehunah when he initially did not respond positively to Hashem’s request that he lead his enslaved brethren into freedom.

As a result of that “charon af,” divine anger, Moshe lost the kehunah that was to be entrusted to him. His family was replaced by Aharon and his sons to serve as kohanim, whose task was to serve in the Mishkon and create harmony between Hashem and his nation.

The Baal Haturim explains that the Torah was sensitive to Moshe’s feelings and therefore omitted his name from the parsha that details the particulars and measurements of the bigdei kehunah. He was hurt by the loss of the position that required the special clothing prescribed in the parsha. In a show of sympathy, and not to cause him more aggravation, his name is not mentioned as these halachos are transmitted.

Tetzaveh reinforces the timeless truth that we are all expected to fulfill a mission. When the orders come our way, we must seize them. Otherwise, we risk losing everything. Moshe was a melech meant to serve as kohein gadol as well. When he demurred, although well-intentioned, he caused charon af to enter the world and his malchus was weakened. The opportunity for serving Hashem via kehunah was taken from him.

Within every one of us, there is a measure of royalty, malchus. We all have within us the ability to make a difference, to take responsibility, and to master a mission. There are people who need help. Some need a shoulder to cry on and some need a listening ear, a friendly message and brotherly warmth. Or, we can shirk the responsibility, make believe we didn’t notice, and be too busy and too involved with ourselves to bother with others. We can either rise to the occasion or slither away. It’s up to us whether we claim the mantle and rise or sink into selfish oblivion.

It can be difficult and time-consuming, but most of the time, we can be lifesavers just by showing up. Other times, it can be more complicated, but we must do the right thing anyway. People who show strength and determination in the face of bullies and bloggers earn eternal blessings and gratitude. Those who are scared to get involved in helping a good person when he needs friends show themselves to be small people.

Those who have the strength and determination to stand up to scoffers and leitzim are rewarded with the bris of shalom. The ones who seek peace for themselves by ignoring the evildoers and those who spread vindictiveness, hatred and machlokes in our world are just as guilty as the perpetrators. If you take a stand when you can make a difference, you awaken the malchus within you. Those who sit off to the side and chuckle as they scroll through the latest meshugas and discuss the lashon hora of the day diminish internal, inherent malchus of bnei and bnos Yisroel.

In this parsha, we can hear a harbinger of the upcoming Yemei Purim and the defining question of the Megillah: Umi yodeia, who knows, im l’eis kazos higa’at lamalchus? Esther Hamalkah feared approaching the king to ask him to save her people. Mordechai admonished her, saying, “Who knows if the reason you were put in the position of queen was to save the Jews at this very moment?” (Esther 4:14).

Every one of us has moments when we hear this posuk, when we know that we can make a difference. When instances such as those occur, we need to accept the responsibility and rise to the challenge.

Maran Rav Elazar Menachem Man Shach would recall the hanochas even hapinah of the yeshiva in Kletzk, where he served as a maggid shiur. The rosh yeshiva, Rav Aharon Kotler, delivered an impassioned drosha about the centrality of Torah and the great merit of hosting a yeshiva in their town. When he finished speaking, gabboim set up two large barrels at the site where the future yeshiva would be constructed.

The townspeople, who had stood transfixed as Rav Aharon spoke about the yeshiva that would be erected at this site, hurried home. The men came rushing back holding money in their outstretched hands. The women came bearing jewelry and silver. Like their ancestors in the midbar following the call of Moshe, with tears of joy running down their faces, they threw their valuables into the barrels, ecstatic about the merit to build Torah in their town.

When the barrels were overflowing, the people returned home. But almost as soon as they had left, they returned with shovels. They began to dig, eager to create the hole where the yeshiva would establish its home.

The Jews of Kletzk who came running with their jewelry and shovels were the paradigm of eternal chachmei lev who build Torah in every generation.

This week’s parsha teaches us that everyone can be a chacham lev. We don’t need to be forced. We don’t need to be challenged. We don’t need to be embarrassed to do what is right. We hear the voice of Hashem call out to us as we learn Torah and mussar. We are reminded by our parents and rabbeim of what is important and what is not.

Every time we are presented with an issue, we must say to ourselves, “Umi yodeia im l’eis kazos higata?” Maybe the reason Hashem blessed you with what you have is so that you can help out this rosh yeshiva or rov who is in need of assistance, or the hardworking professional who can’t make ends meet, or the lonely person who doesn’t know which way to turn for help or support or just plain old friendship.

Every person has unique gifts that make them special. Maybe you are the type of person the Chofetz Chaim sought as a fundraiser. Although you have a different position, or no position at all, maybe you were blessed with charm and the personality needed to raise money for good causes and good people. Maybe you were blessed with the ability to speak publicly. Sometimes you have to overcome shyness and the natural fear of public speaking in order to use your gift to inspire and be mechazeik people.

Or maybe you are a dentist, like the kind person who took care of me this week when I was in excruciating pain. He went into his office on a Sunday, and worked on me for an hour, diagnosing the problem and doing what he could to alleviate the pain and identify its cause. Not only that, but he reached out to me several hours later to check up on me and to find out how I was doing. He went way beyond what is expected. I had never met him before and he had no obligation to help me.

He could have easily said, “You’re not my patient, and besides, everyone knows that all dentist offices are closed on Sunday.” But because he is a gutteh Yid, a chacham lev, he gave up time on his off day to help a fellow Yid who was in pain.

We live in a time when people are caring and sharing and doing so much good. We live in a time when Torah is growing by unprecedented numbers. And no longer are yeshivos and Bais Yaakovs housed in run-down facilities. Thanks to the kindness and generosity of today’s chachmei lev, the buildings – mishkonos – in which Torah is studied are befitting.

In the zechus of the tremendous scope of the chesed that is done, and the tzedakah that is given, and the Torah that is learned, may we be zoche to the coming of Moshiach and the construction of the greatest building ever, soon in our day.

Pure & Holy

By Rabbi Pinchos Lipschutz

As this week’s parsha of Terumah opens, Hashem tells Moshe to speak to the Bnei Yisroel and tell them “viyikchu li terumah,” to collect donations for the construction of the Mishkon. Rashi explains that the extra word “li” is there to delineate that the donations should be given “lishmi,” which ostensibly means lesheim Hashem, that the donations should be given for the sake of Hashem.

Targum Onkelos explains it differently, saying, “Veyafrishun kodomai afroshusah,” that they should separate what they are planning to give before they give it. Rav Meir Soloveitchik explained that this indicates that there was an obligation to set aside and be makdish – consecrate – the donation before it was given.

This was a special din only applicable to donations for the construction of the Mishkon. Other contributions did not have to be sanctified before being given to the Mishkon and the Bais Hamikdosh.

Why was that? What was different about the Mishkon that it necessitated only “holy” contributions?

Until this week, the parshiyos of Shemos dealt with our slavery in Mitzrayim, our redemption from there, and our formation as a people at Har Sinai with the acceptance of the Torah and the laws described last week in Mishpotim.

This week, we come to the purpose of it all, the construction of the Mishkon, which returned the Shechinah to rest upon the Bnei Yisroel. The Ramban, in his hakdomah to Shemos, writes that Seder Shemos discusses the first golus and the geulah from it. The geulah is not complete, however, until the Bnei Yisroel return to their rightful place and to the heights that their forefathers achieved. Therefore, although they left Mitzrayim, they were considered in golus until they arrived at Har Sinai, erected the Mishkon, and the Shechinah returned to them. With that, they returned to the heights of their forefathers upon whom the Shechinah rested.

Although they were camped in the desert, far from their country, they were not considered in golus, because they were connected to the Shechinah, which was among them.

Analyzing the posuk, “Ve’osu li Mikdosh veshochanti besocham – And they shall make for Me a Mikdosh and I will dwell amongst them” (Shemos 25:8), the Alshich writes that “ikar hashro’as Shechinah b’adam velo babayis,” ­­the main place where the Shechinah rests is among the people, “…ki nafshosam heim haMishkon ha’amiti, umeihem mispasheit el hamakom hahu – because in the souls is the real Mishkon where the Shechinah rests, and from there it spreads out to the building,” because Hashem only seeks to dwell in the neshamos of Klal Yisroel. When they are unworthy of that, the Shechinah will also depart from the Mishkon or Mikdosh where Hashem chose to house the Shechinah.

The Vilna Gaon (Shir Hashirim 1:17) also says that the Shechinah resting among the Bnei Yisroel refers to it being in the hearts of the Bnei Yisroel.

Rav Dovid Cohen (Meirosh Tzurim 14:4) writes that the Torah is what connects Klal Yisroel to Hashem. He brings that Matan Torah on Har Sinai was akin to an engagement. When they received the Torah, they dedicated themselves to Hashem through Torah. The Mishkon was the completion of the cementing of the relationship with Hakadosh Boruch Hu through Torah. It is through the strength of Torah that the Shechinah rested amongst Klal Yisroel following the construction of the Mishkon, which was, so to speak, the final phase of Kabbolas HaTorah that began at Har Sinai.

With this, we can understand why the donations to the Mishkon had to be consecrated before being donated.

It is said in the name of the Vilna Gaon that if a shul would be built totally with pure intentions, the tefillos said in that shul would also be pure. Success in spiritual matters is dependent upon the degree to which they were done purely lesheim Shomayim, without any impure or outside considerations.

The Brisker Rov would relate that during the lifetime of the Chofetz Chaim, the yeshivos went through a rough period. The Chofetz Chaim remarked that the reason for the weakness of Torah study was because the money that was arriving from overseas for the support of the yeshivos was raised from people without pure intentions. The philanthropists who donated the money were motivated by a desire for attention and honor, not by concern and appreciation for Torah and Torah study. Because the contributions were defective, the Torah study in the Lithuanian yeshivos suffered.

Thus, because the Mishkon was the second phase of Kabbolas HaTorah, the contributions had to be lishmah so that the Mishkon and its keilim would be able to perform their function and connect the Bnei Yisroel and Hakadosh Boruch Hu. Had the money that was given not already been set aside for kedusha, it would be defective and unable to achieve its enduring objective.

People work and toil in learning, and in observance of mitzvos, and wonder why at times they don’t feel that they are succeeding. Everything in life that we accomplish is through siyata diShmaya. When our intentions are not pure, it is more difficult to merit Divine help in what we do. It is incumbent upon us when undertaking an endeavor to ensure that our motives are pure, and that not only is what we are doing correct, but it is being done for the correct reasons.

We must always be sure that we are unfailingly honest and upright in all our financial dealings, as well as in conversations with others, especially with people who trust us and turn to us for advice and direction. The worst thing we can do is to betray a trust and steer people wrong, taking advantage of them or acting in an abusive manner when we think we can get away with it.

If we want to merit aliyah in Torah, financial success, nachas from our children, and being fulfilled, satisfied and content with life in general, we have to ensure that we work and engage without ulterior and tainted motives.

I have known Rav Zvi Schvartz for more than three decades. I consider him one of the secret tzaddikim of the generation. When you meet him, he seems like an ordinary Eretz Yisroel type of Yid. He is a man with a short beard, a hat that has seen better days, and a beautiful smile. He has a very unassuming air about him, but when he begins to speak, his words are poetic, seasoned by a lifetime of Torah. He is totally lesheim Shomayim and seeks neither fame nor financial riches.

I know Rav Zvi through my involvement with Lev L’Achim, as he heads the Lev L’Achim division in Rechovot.

Twenty years ago, I had the honor of hosting the first Monsey Lev L’Achim parlor meeting in my home. Rav Zvi came a week before the event to help drum up support and seek out donations for the cause. The parlor meeting was to be held on a Sunday night. I spent the week before going around with him every night, knocking on people’s doors and making little headway. I was dejected. It had all the earmarks of a disaster. We knocked on tens of doors and rang many bells, but only got admitted to one home. At that one house, we didn’t do well. We stood at the door, made our pitch, and were politely rebuffed.

But while the apathetic responses we received put a complete damper on my own expectations, they didn’t make the slightest dent in Rav Zvi’s. Despite the clear signs that the parlor meeting would be a flop, he remained supremely optimistic. Every time I said something negative or advised him to return home to his wife and kehillah, he promised me that the evening would be a tremendous success. “Natzliach, natzliach,” he said. “Atah tireh.”

Every time I asked him how he was so confident of a successful evening, he gave the same answer: “Im ani omer shezeh yatzliach, zeh yatzliach. If I say that it will be a success, then it will be a success.” I had already known him for ten years, and he was unfailingly humble and normal. It was totally out of character for him to speak that way, with an abundance of self-confidence. But not wanting to hurt his feelings, I didn’t say anything about his newfound hubris.

The day of the parlor meeting, he insisted that we rent and set up 250 chairs for the crowd he was anticipating. The chairs came, and I attempted to hide them in the garage. I knew that the worst thing is to have a roomful of empty chairs. It would be embarrassing enough that no one would show up. We didn’t have to advertise it.

He caught me. He found the chairs and set them up himself.

No matter how I tried to brace this ardent baal bitachon for an evening of disappointment, he was having none of it.

At the appointed hour, streams of people began appearing, until there was no place to park and the house was overflowing. Hundreds of people came.

Rav Zvi approached me halfway through the program and said with much love, “So you see now, I told you that it would be a hatzlocha and it is! We don’t even have enough seats!”

I said to him, “But my dear Rav Zvi, it is true that there are many people here, but there is little money. What good is it without making money?”

He repeated his mantra: “Im ani omer shezeh yatzliach, zeh yatzliach.”

I laughed.

He said, “You still don’t trust me. Stand right here, in this spot, next to the gentleman who is writing out receipts at a small table. In two minutes, someone will walk over and say that he wants to give a sizeable donation. When you hear that, call me. I’ll be outside welcoming the people who are still arriving.”

I smiled in disbelief at his confidence in the impossible. I stood where he placed me, dreading the moment when reality would dawn on Rav Zvi.

But when reality dawned, I was the one in shock.

I didn’t have to wait long. A rebbi from a local yeshiva walked over to the table and said that he’d like to make a donation. The receipt writer said, “Sure, write the check. I’ll give you a receipt.”

“Actually, I want to talk to someone about giving something substantial,” the man said. “I came here to see Uri Zohar, and I became so inspired that I want to give something big.”

Startled, I ran to get Rav Zvi and brought him in to speak to the man. The conversation netted $50,000. (The parlor meeting netted another $50,000.)

I was shaken to the core by what happened. When I finally regained my composure, I sputtered to Rav Zvi, “How could you do that? How could you know that something like that would happen?”

He didn’t respond. I said to him, “Rav Zvi, how could you have known? How can you say something like that and really believe it would happen?”

“Im ani omer shezeh yatzliach, zeh yatzliach,” he answered with a smile. “If I tell you that we will succeed, we will.”

Then, he added, “I don’t know how it happened.” With much humility, and with a nonchalant smile, he continued, “I work lesheim Shomayim and have special siyata diShmaya, so I took the liberty and Hashem helped me.”

I have never forgotten that story and its lesson. When a person works lesheim Shomayim – like Rav Schvartz, who was shlepping around in a foreign country for no other purpose than to raise money to be able to bring Yidden tachas kanfei haShechinah – that person is blessed with special siyata diShmaya. Hashem ensures his success.

If we want to be successful in whatever it is that we are doing, we can all be Rav Schvartz and work faithfully lesheim Shomayim, with pure intentions and without ulterior motives. We should ensure that our money is pure, our thoughts are pure, and our actions are pure, and Hashem will do the rest.