|
After an entire
portion filled with commandments regarding man’s obligation toward his
fellow man, the Torah focuses on a very spiritual aspect of our existence.
Hashem commands His nation to build a Tabernacle in which He would
figuratively dwell. Thus the Torah begins this week’s portion with a
mainstay of Jewish life — the appeal.
The Torah instructs
the Jewish nation to contribute gold, silver, and an array of other
materials to the great cause of erecting and furnishing a Mishkan
(Tabernacle). However the appeal is worded very strangely. Hashem does not
ask the people to give; he asks them to take. Exodus 25:2: “Speak to the
children of Israel and let them take a portion for me.” The question is
obvious. Why does the Torah tell the people to take a portion when in
essence they are giving a portion? What is the message behind the semantic
anomaly?
Max and Irving
went fishing on an overcast afternoon. About two hours into their
expedition a fierce storm developed. Their small rowboat tossed and tossed
and finally flipped over into the middle of the lake. Max, a strong
swimmer, called to save Irving, but to no avail. Irving did not respond to
any plea and unfortunately drowned. Max swam to shore to break the terrible
news to Irving’s poor wife.
“What happened?” she
screamed. “Tell me the whole story!”
Max recounted the entire
episode in full detail.
“But what did you do
to try to save my Irving?” she shrieked. Max explained once again. “I kept
screaming to your husband, ‘Irving, give me your hand — give me your hand —
Give me your hand! But Irving just gave me a blank stare and drifted
away.”
“You fool!” shouted
the widow. “You said the wrong thing. You should have said, ‘take my hand.’
Irving never gave anything to anybody!”.
We often make the
same mistake that Irving made. When we hear the word “give” we recoil. In
its first solicitation, the Torah is teaching us a lesson. When you give
with true heart, you are not giving anything away. You are taking a share
for yourself. Materialistic pleasures in which many people indulge are
eventually digested and forgotten. The new cars become old ones, the
glorious homes fall to disrepair, and the newest gizmos become outdated.
The only items that remain are those that we give. They remain in a
storehouse of merits and eventually will repay us and our descendants. The
Montefiores and the Rothschilds are not forever cherished for opulence and
indulgence. They are remembered for their great benevolence and charity.
They not only gave for eternity. They received for eternity as well
Good Shabbos!
Dedicated In loving memory of our mother,
Edith Gluck of
blessed memory by the Gluck Family
Text Copyright © 1996
by Rabbi M. Kamenetzky and Project
Genesis, Inc.
The author is the
Dean of the Yeshiva of South Shore.
Drasha is the e-mail edition of FaxHomily, a
weekly torah facsimile on the weekly portion. FaxHomily is a project of the
Henry and Myrtle Hirsch Foundation
|
Comments
Post a Comment