In the beginning of Parshas Pekudei, the Torah shifts the story from creating a space for G-d in this world to the realm of bookkeeping. Moshe, at this point, presents a detailed account of all the wealth contributed to him for the construction of the Tabernacle. He reports to the people how many pounds of gold, silver, and copper he received and how exactly they were used in the structure. He gives an account for every last piece of jewelry and metal that came into his hands.
Why? The Midrash relates that some Jews murmured about Moshe stealing some of the money, using charity funds for his own purposes. Thus, Moshe gave a detailed account of the destination of every “dollar” collected in the grandiose “building campaign.”
This is a simple but very telling scene. Moshe, let us recall, is the spiritual giant of history, whom Maimonides defined as the greatest human being to ever walk the Earth. “G-d would speak to Moshe face to face, as a man would speak with his friend,” the Bible says. “Not so my servant Moshe,” G-d thunders at Aaron and Miriam after they had gossiped about him. “In My entire house, he is the trusted one. Mouth to mouth, do I speak to him, in a clear vision and not in riddles; he gazes at the image of G-d. Why do you not fear to speak against My servant Moshe?”
Does a man who speaks to G-d face to face really need to prove that he is not using money for a cruise in the Caribbean, for a new Lexus, or to build his portfolio? The Jews, observing Moshe’s unparalleled devotion and love for them in the most trying of circumstances, knew full well that Moshe was no charlatan. If G-d trusts him, they could trust him too. Even if some Jewish rabble-rousers murmured about Moshe stealing some of the money, we would expect Moshe to ignore them.
“Who do they think they are to question my integrity?” we would expect Moshe to think to himself. “I gave my life for these rebels when G-d wanted to destroy them. After all, it was G-d Himself who appointed me to my present position, against my will. How dare they challenge my honesty?”
These feelings would be understandable. Yet, astonishingly, without even being asked or instructed to do so, Moshe, in total humility, stands up and gives an accounting for every last penny that came into his hands. One of the great halachic authorities, Rabbi Yoel Sirkish (1561-1640), known as the “Bach,” derives a law from this episode: Even the most beloved and believable collectors of charity are obliged to give a detailed account to the community of the destination of every cent they collected for charity. Nobody, writes the Bach, could be trusted more than Moshe, the man whom G-d Himself trusted. Yet even he felt compelled to give an accounting of all the contributions.
This is one of the great moral messages of Judaism. When it comes to somebody else’s money, be accountable for every dollar. Don’t cover up, don’t lie, and don’t deceive. You can’t lie to people and then be honest with G-d, with your wife, with your children, with your friends.
We all need and thus appreciate money. Some of us love money. Even spiritual leaders need money and often cherish it deeply. Rabbis are also only human beings. That is not evil. The story turns ugly when we become dishonest with our money. We must learn from Moshe to always be able to give an account for every dollar that comes into our hands.
RABBI YY JACOBSON
