Surf A Little Torah
Yeshivat Har Etzion

by Rav David Silverberg

Parashat Vayakhel tells of Benei Yisrael's meticulous compliance with God's commands regarding the construction of the Mishkan. A team of artisans, led by Betzalel, gathered the materials collected from the people and built the Mishkan and its accessories.

Notably, throughout the narrative describing the construction of the Mishkan, the Torah employs the singular form, as if only one individual constructed the Mishkan, despite the fact that an entire team of craftsmen worked on the project. The exception to this rule is the first verse that tells of the work: "Vaya'asu kol chakham lev…" (36:8), which is written in the plural form. (Another exception is the aron, which the Torah explicitly mentions was built by Betzalel personally; see 37:1 and Rashi.) How do we explain this shift?

The Or Ha-chayim suggested that this transition alludes to the miraculous nature of the Mishkan's construction. Normally, when different people work on different areas of a project, each finished product will bear the specific imprint of its maker; the homogeneity of the entire project will almost invariably be compromised. Given the individual style of each artisan, a joint project will often lack some degree of consistency. Regarding the Mishkan, the Torah wishes to emphasize that this was not the case. Although many different workers participated in the project, no single part of the Mishkan bore a particular imprint. It was as if one individual personally constructed the entire Mishkan and all its vessels.

Rav Moshe Feinstein suggested a different answer. Often, projects requiring the cooperation of many different people take the most time to complete. Each participant expects the others to shoulder the burden, and the work goes unfinished. The Torah here emphasizes the diligence that characterized the individual work of each artisan in the construction of the Mishkan. Despite the many participants, each one took responsibility as if the entire enterprise depended solely on his efforts. In this sense (as well as in many others), the Mishkan becomes the supreme example of the proper attitude towards religious responsibility. Torah and mitzvot cannot be looked upon as "for the other guy"; one cannot exempt himself on the grounds that others will do the work for him. Building the collective "Mishkan" of Am Yisrael - even in the absence of a physical Temple - demands the active and diligent participation of every member. Even though we are many, each of us must see the nation's "Mishkan" as his personal responsibility.

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Towards the beginning of Parashat Vayakhel, the Torah tells of Moshe's successful appeal for donations of materials for the construction of the Mishkan. Benei Yisrael respond by bringing too many materials for this project. The Torah records that the craftsmen in charge of the project complained to Moshe that they have received beyond that which was necessary for the Mishkan and its accessories. Moshe immediately announces the end of the appeal.

At first glance, it appears strange that too many materials were contributed. Was there nothing that could be done with the excess? Couldn't it have been used to add more beauty, to enhance the Mishkan, for some purpose?

The Seforno, sensitive to this question, writes (36:5) that no deviation whatsoever was permitted in the Mishkan's construction. The entire project, including the dimensions, weight, and quantity of all the Mishkan's components, had to correspond precisely with God's instructions to Moshe. In this sense, the Seforno adds, the Mishkan differed from the two Temples built in Jerusalem. Shelomo and Herod designed the two Temples, respectively, with their own intuitive plans with an eye for beauty and grandeur. In the Mishkan, this was not permitted. Therefore, there was nothing to be done with the excess donations.

The Seforno does not, however, explain the basis for this distinction between the Mishkan and the Temples. Why couldn't Benei Yisrael further glorify the Tabernacle by adding more gold and silver than God required?

Rav Yehuda Leib Ginsburg, in his "Yalkut Yehuda," offers an explanation on the basis of a comment in the work, "Rabbotenu Ba'alei Ha-tosafot" in Parashat Teruma. The Ba'alei Ha-tosafot there write that essentially, the ark should have been made entirely out of gold. An item of such sanctity and importance deserved to have no other material involved in its constitution. But God instructed that it be made from wood with gold plating, instead, out of consideration for the Levi'im, who had to transport the ark when the nation traveled. Carrying an ark made entirely of gold was too difficult a burden to charge upon the Levites, and so God ordered that the ark be made of wood. (Rabbotenu Ba'alei Ha-tosafot apply the same idea to the two altars, as well, which were also made of wood and plated with metal.)

For the same reason, Rav Ginsburg suggests, nothing could be added to God's specifications concerning the Mishkan. Unlike the two Temples, which were permanent structures that never required transportation, the Mishkan was made to be a mobile Sanctuary. Out of consideration to the Levi'im, who bore the burden - quite literally - of transporting the Mishkan, no extra materials were allowed.

Rav Ginsburg adds that an important lesson emerges from this explanation. As laudable as it is to strive to perform beyond the strict letter of the law and take on additional, voluntary measures of piety, one must take into account the effect these measures might have on others. One should not take upon himself unnecessary measures of stringency - however intrinsically noble they may be - at the expense of those around him. The Almighty forbade additional beautification of His Sanctuary if this would unduly intensify the Levi'im's workload. Similarly, we may not take on personal measures of piety that cause others inconvenience.

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Yesterday we looked at the Seforno's explanation regarding the excess materials brought by Benei Yisrael for the construction of the Mishkan, as told in Parashat Vayakhel. The Seforno cryptically remarks that unlike the two Batei Mikdash, the Mishkan could not feature any additional trimmings or decorations beyond the precise specifications outlined by God in Parshiyot Teruma and Tetzaveh. Yesterday we saw one possible explanation for this distinction; today we will suggest another, perhaps more obvious, approach.

According to many commentators, including the Seforno, the construction of the Mishkan served as an atonement for the grave sin of the golden calf. We find many Midrashic passages to this effect, including one which associates the "gathering" with which Parashat Vayakhel opens, during which Moshe instructs Benei Yisrael with regard to the Mishkan, with the "gathering" for the purpose of making a calf (see Shemot 32:1). As we discussed last week, many commentators saw the golden calf not as actual pagan worship, but rather as a misguided attempt to serve the Almighty. According to some views, Benei Yisrael's innovation in this regard itself constituted their sin. The Bet Ha-levi, for example, explains that Benei Yisrael sought to introduce a new medium for hashra'at Ha-Shekhina - to bring God's presence into their midst. While intrinsically a noble endeavor, this attempt overlooked a fundamental tenet of Jewish faith: we can bring God's Shekhina into our midst, we can connect to the Almighty, only by following His rules. We cannot independently decide, based on our own, personal inkling or intuition, how and where God will enter our lives. He gave us a Torah for this very purpose, and any attempt to innovate other means towards that end is akin to making a golden calf. The Bet Ha-levi adds that for this reason, throughout Parshiyot Vayakhel and Pekudei, the Torah concludes its record of each stage of the Mishkan's construction wthe phrase, "ka'asher tziva Hashem et Moshe" - "as God commanded Moshe." The Torah emphasizes that the construction of the Mishkan indeed served its purpose of correcting the fundamental flaw of the Mishkan; Benei Yisrael understood once and for all that spirituality is attained strictly by following God's commands, not by following our own intuition and feelings.

We can now return to the Seforno's comment with which we began. While normally further enhancement and beautification of God's Sanctuary would be encouraged, as we see during the time of King Shelomo, the specific context of the Mishkan's construction did not allow for any contribution beyond the particular dictates given to Moshe. This entire project was intended to rectify the sin of the golden calf, for Benei Yisrael to demonstrate their unwavering obedience and submission to God. This, therefore, was not a time for otherwise laudable enhancements and "personal touches." The circumstances surrounding the construction of the Mishkan mandated the strict adherence to the very last detail of God's instructions. Therefore, once the materials needed to comply with God's commands were supplied, no further donations could be accepted.

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Parashat Vayakhel tells of Benei Yisrael's enthusiastic response to the appeal for donations for the construction of the Mishkan. The Torah tells, "Everyone whose heart stirred him came, and everyone whose spirit moved him brought the offering of the Lord for the work of the Tent of Meeting… " (35:21). This verse appears to describe two groups of individuals: "kol ish asher nesa'o libo" - "everyone whose heart stirred him [literally, 'lifted him']"; and "kol asher nadeva rucho oto" - "everyone whose spirit moved him." What precisely do these two phrases denote?

The Ramban claims that these two groups consisted of the craftsmen and the donors, respectively. Those who came forth to work on the project are referred to as "everyone whose hearts stirred him." The Ramban explains based on his comments earlier in Sefer Shemot, to 31:2, where he writes that the artisans who built the Mishkan were blessed with supernatural gifts and talents. Clearly, as slaves in Egypt, nobody was professionally trained in the skills necessary for the intricate work required for the construction of the Mishkan. This ability came as a special, miraculous gift from Above, and to this the Torah refers when it speaks of "nesa'o libo" - those whose hearts "carried" them. The second group, consisting of "everyone whose spirit moved him," included those who contributed the materials.

The Or Ha-chayim explains the verse differently, that both phrases refer to donors, but to two different types of donors. The second clause, "kol asher nadeva rucho oto," consisted of the "normal" donors, meaning, those who contributed what they could afford. The first group, however, was made up of those who went beyond the standard limits of generosity and donated more than they would normally be considered able to. The verse therefore refers to these people as "everyone whose heart carried [or, lifted] him." These people, in their overwhelming desire to contribute to the Mishkan, saw themselves as wealthier than they really were; they inflated, so-to-speak, their perception of their financial status in order to donate more than others in their situation would.

A third approach, cited in Rav Yehuda Leib Ginsburg's "Yalkut Yehuda," explains based on distinguishing between "lev" (heart) and "ru'ach" (spirit). Man's natural instinct leads him to hold on to what he has rather than share it with others or donate it for worthy causes. Those in the second group are described as "nadeva rucho oto" - meaning, their "spirit," or desire for spiritual excellence, overcame the selfish human instinct and led them to make donations towards the construction of the Mishkan. The first group, however, went even further. The verse describes that their "hearts" were "lifted." This refers to a fundamental transformation of instinct, to the point where they no longer needed the weight of conscience to subdue their innate selfishness. Their hearts naturally responded to Moshe's appeal with fervent generosity, overcome by an instinctive desire to take part in this holy endeavor of bringing the Almighty's presence into the nation's midst.

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Among the articles in the Mishkan whose construction is described in Parashat Vayakhel is the kiyor - the faucet from which the kohanim would wash their hands and feet before entering the Mishkan to perform the service. The verse (38:8) tells that the kiyor was made from the brass mirrors donated by the women of Am Yisrael. Rashi brings a Midrash that fills in the details regarding the history behind these mirrors. Back in Egypt, the men, broken physically and emotionally by slavery, lost interest in maintaining their marital lives. The wives would therefore beautify themselves in an effort to entice their husbands, thereby ensuring that Benei Yisrael would continue to propagate and flourish even during the period of bondage. The mirrors used by the women for this holy purpose were then donated to the Mishkan, and from them the kiyor was fashioned. The Midrash relates that Moshe initially refused to accept these mirrors, the tools for arousing the evil inclination, for use in the Mishkan. The Almighty, however, told Moshe that these mirrors helped sustain Benei Yisrael during their exile and should therefore be used for the kiyor.

Why did God ordain that specifically the kiyor would be made from these mirrors?

Rashi, based on the Midrash in Bemidbar Rabba (9:14), explains that the water from the kiyor was used not only for the kohanim's washing, but for the sota ritual, as well. As described in Bemidbar 5, a woman suspected of infidelity was "tested" by drinking a special potion which included water from the kiyor. Appropriately, then, the mirrors used to enhance the relationship between husband and wife later served this same purpose by freeing the husband of any suspicions he may have had concerning his wife's fidelity.

A different passage in the Midrash, however, suggests a different perspective. The Midrash Tanchuma (Pekudei 9) records God telling Moshe as follows: "These mirrors were what sustained these multitudes in Egypt; take from them and make from them the brass kiyor and its stand for the kohanim." This Midrash focuses not on the sota ritual, but rather on the purpose served by the kiyor "for the kohanim," presumably referring to the requirement that the kohanim wash from the kiyor before performing the service. The question thus arises, wherein lies the connection between these mirrors and the kohanim's preparations for their service?

Rav Moshe Feinstein, in "Derash Moshe," explains that the relationship involves the mindset required of the kohanim as they prepare for their service. These mirrors served to sustain Benei Yisrael through their exile; they ensured the nation's continued population growth when it otherwise may have subsided or stopped altogether, Heaven forbid. Likewise, the kohen service in the Temple is meant to atone for Benei Yisrael and thus enable their continued growth and prosperity. To help focus the kohanim's attention on this important role served by their activity in the Mikdash, they washed from the laver made from these mirrors before beginning their work.

We may perhaps suggest a different explanation. The women in Egypt used these mirrors to beautify themselves, to adorn themselves and improve their appearance. The kiyor was used for a similar purpose - for the kohanim to clean themselves before beginning the service. The mirrors symbolized - in the starkest way - that tending to one's appearance need not be associated with arrogance, self-absorption, or an exaggerated sense of self-importance. Our preoccupation with our looks can be used for spiritual goals and sublime purposes. When tending to his appearance, the kohen is reminded that this has nothing to do with his ego, with his image, but rather with kevod Shamayim - divine honor. He must cleanse himself not to impress otherpeople, but rather to show respect to the Almighty in His Sanctuary. Just as the women used these mirrors for a higher purpose - to sustain Am Yisrael, so do the kohanim wash themselves for the purpose of glorifying the Mishkan and the God whose Shekhina resides within it.

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In response to Moshe's call for volunteers to perform the work for the Mishkan's construction, skilled women came to spin the goats' wool used for the "yeri'ot" - the cloths that covered the Mishkan. Rashi (35:26) quotes a Midrash that the women actually spun the goats' hair before it was even sheared; they spun the wool while it was still attached to the goats. Several different reasons have been suggested as to why this was necessary. Rav David Pardo, in his "Maskil L'David" (a work on Rashi's commentary) explains that this helped ensure the highest standard of cleanliness; the less the wool is handled, the less soiled it will become. A much different approach is suggested by Rav Yehonatan Eibshitz, in his "Tiferet Yehonatan," who claims that many of the women were likely to be ritually impure. In order that the cloths for the Mishkan do not contract tum'a, they were spun while still on the goats, since wool is not susceptible to tum'a until after it has been sheared.

We will focus on a different aspect of this topic, one which emerges from a revealing passage in a rather uncommon source. A verse in Divrei Hayamim I (2:18) tells about the wife of Kalev, the great-grandson of Yehuda, who is best known for his heroism in resisting the other scouts during the infamous incident of the meraglim. The verse tells that his wife was named "Azuva." (The verse actually refers to her as his daughter, but see Rashi who shows that in truth she was his wife.) According to the Gemara in Masekhet Sota (11b-12a), "Azuva" was another name for Miriam, Moshe's sister, who married Kalev. Now the Targum Rav Yosef on that verse in Divrei Hayamim tells us that this woman, Azuva, spun the wool directly from the goats in preparation for the cloth coverings of the Mishkan. Apparently, she led the team of women in charge of this task. Combining this Targum Rav Yosef with the aforementioned Gemara in Masekhet Sota yields a fascinating conclusion: it was Miriam the prophetess, who led the women in song and dance after the splitting of the sea (Shemot 15:20), who now led the team of women in their work for the Mishkan.

On this basis, Rav Dov Meir Eisenstein, in an article published in the memorial volume for Rav Yaakov Betzalel Zolti zt"l, suggests an explanation for an otherwise difficult passage in the Yalkut Shimoni (Shemot 164). Back in Parashat Shemot, we read of the heroic refusal of the two Hebrew midwives, identified by Chazal as Yokheved and Miriam, to comply with Pharaoh's order to kill the newborn males. As a reward, the verse tells, Hashem made for them "batim" - "homes" (Shemot 1:21). The Yalkut Shimoni comments that Yokheved was rewarded with the kingship and priesthood - her two sons were Moshe, the king, and Aharon, the high priest - whereas "Miriam was rewarded with wisdom; from her came Betzalel, who was wise." At first glance, it appears as though Yokheved earned two rewards - kingship and the kehuna gedola - while Miriam received only one - Betzalel, who led the work for the Mishkan. Based on what we have seen, however, it is clear that the Yalkut refers to two rewards. First, Miriam herself earned "wisdom," the skill to spin the goats' hair, and she led the women in this project. In addition, she begot Betzalel, who led the entire building project.

We might add that according to this approach, a parallel of sorts emerges between the reward granted to Yokheved and that received by Miriam. The Gemara in Masekhet Shabbat (99a) indicates that this unique method of spinning the wool, straight from the goats' backs, was necessary only for the "yeri'ot elyonot" - the outer layer of the Mishkan's cloths. The lower layer, however, did not require this method. Thus, Miriam and her group of women were responsible for preparing the outermost layer of the Mishkan. Betzalel, though charged with the general responsibility to oversee the Mishkan's construction, was particularly involved in the building of the innermost object in the Mishkan - the Ark of the Covenant, which he himself built (see Rashi to 37:1). Miriam's two rewards thus involved the outermost and innermost aspects of the Mishkan.

In this sense, perhaps, her reward parallels her mothers'. Kingship and priesthood are institutions that work on the outermost and innermost layers of the nation, respectively. The king is responsible for the general concerns of the country, particularly in areas of diplomacy and foreign policy. The kohen gadol, by contrast, works in the nation's innermost sanctum, dedicating his life to the Temple and the service of God within the Sanctuary. If the king bears responsibility for the "outer limbs" of the national body, the kohen gadol is in charge of the heart and soul.

Herein, perhaps, lies the significance of the reward granted to Miriam and Yokheved for their heroism. God blessed them with both types of national leadership, with the outer layer of the "Mishkan" - both literally and figuratively - as well as the "ark," the power of the spirit and the ability to bring God's Shekhina into Benei Yisrael.

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Earlier this week, we looked at Rashi's comment (based on the Midrash) concerning the construction of the kiyor, the faucet used by the kohanim to wash themselves before beginning their service in the Mishkan. As the verse (38:8) tells us, the kiyor was made from mirrors. According to the Midrash, these were the mirrors used by the Israelite women back in Egypt to beautify themselves and thereby encourage their husbands to maintain marital life even under the brutal conditions in which they lived.

We find in halakhic literature some discussion as to whether the fashioning of the kiyor establishes a precedent for transforming mundane items into sacred ones. The Tosefta in Masekhet Megilla (2:10) states: "Utensils that had initially been used for mundane purposes may not be used for sacred purposes." This ruling is codified by the Rambam in the context of the building of the Temple (Hilkhot Bet Ha-bechira 1:2). The question then arises as to how Moshe could use these mirrors for the fashioning of the kiyor.

The Magen Avraham (O.C. 147) writes that once the original item has undergone a physical transformation, one may then use it for the Mikdash. Only when a mundane item remains physically unchanged is there a prohibition against turning it into something sacred. These mirrors lost their initial, physical identity once they were transformed from mirrors to a laver; hence, no prohibition is involved.

Others have suggested a different approach, based on the comments of the Chatam Sofer in one of his teshuvot (O.C. 40). The Chatam Sofer there addresses a different question which arises from the story told about Yaakov Avinu in Parashat Vayetze. Recall that as he makes his way to Charan, Yaakov uses several stones as a pillow on which to sleep, and the following morning, after experiencing a prophetic vision, turns those stones into a monument for God. Here, too, we must ask what allowed Yaakov to turn the stones used as a pillow into a monument dedicated to God. The Chatam Sofer answers by first posing an even stronger question. According to one passage in the Midrash, these stones had been part of the altar erected by Noach upon his departure from the ark, and upon which Avraham placed Yitzchak at the akeida. If so, then how could Yaakov have used them as a pillow in the first place? Would this not violate the prohibition of me'ila - using sacred property for mundane purposes? (This question obviously assumes that Yaakov was somehow aware of these stones' illustrious past.) The Chatam Sofer cites an answer from the "Zayit Ra'anan," who claims (based on Rashi's interpretation of Bereishit 28:11) that Yaakov did not, in fact, use these stones as a pillow. Rather, he arranged them around him to protect himself from wild animals and thelike. Therefore, the prohibition of me'ila did not apply. A violation of me'ila requires direct benefit from the object; indirect benefit, such as here, when Yaakov merely shielded himself with these stones, is permitted. The Chatam Sofer applies this rule to the reverse situation, where one wishes to use a mundane object for a sacred purpose. If the original mundane use involved indirect benefit from the object, such as Yaakov's use of the stones, then there is no prohibition against using that item later as a sacred object. Yaakov was therefore justified in using these stones as a monument to God.

The same theory would apply to the mirrors used for the kiyor. The use of a mirror is, by nature, indirect. One simply looks at the mirror; he does not come in any more direct contact with it when using it for its intended purpose. Therefore, no halakhic problem was involved in later turning these mirrors into a sacred item to be used by the kohanim in the Mishkan.

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