This week's Parsha revisits content previously explored in the Parshiot of Terumah and Tetzaveh, detailing aspects related to the Mishkan and its vessels. The initial occurrence took place during the first forty days Moshe Rabbeinu spent atop Har Sinai, during which Hakadosh Baruch Hu instructed him to build a Mishkan below, like the one in the heavens. Up high there is Mishkan, and it was shown to Moshe as the blueprint for what was to be replicated below: כְּמִ שׁ ְ פָּטוֹ אֲשׁ ֶר הָרְ אֵיתָ בָּהָר – As shown to you on the mountain. The Gemara says (Menachot 110a), there was a Menorah lit in the higher Mishkan just as Aharon lit it down below (מוּל פְּנֵי הַמְּנוֹרָהאֶ ל), and parallel sacrifices were brought as well. There are two opinions as to the nature of these Korbanot, with one saying lambs of fire (כ ּ ְ ב ָ ש ׂ ִ י ם שׁ ֶ ל א ֵ שׁ) were sacrificed above, and the other saying the souls of tzaddikim (נ ִ שׁ ְ מ ו ֹ ת ֵ י ה ֶ ן שׁ ֶ ל צ ַ ד ּ ִ י קִ י ם) were offered (see Rav Rosenblum English Shiurim, Beha’alotcha 5783).
Moshe Rabbeinu received all the instructions atop Har Sinai, complete with visual cues, and he was meant to build the Mishkan upon descending with the Luchot, as they needed a home to reside in. However, everything changed with Cheit Ha'Egel and all plans were interrupted. As a result, Moshe set all the details aside, as there was no reason to convey them after he descended and shattered the Luchot. The topic of the Mishkan was moot until after Bnei Yisrael were forgiven and Moshe was commanded to construct two new Luchot similar to the original ones handed to him by Hakadosh Baruch Hu – details read last week in Parshat Ki Tisa. Only then – the day after Yom Kippur, according to Rashi – did Moshe gather everyone together and relay all the Mishkan’s details:
ֹאמֶר אֲלֵהֶם אֵלֶּה הַדְּבָרִים ּ ַקְהֵל מֹשׁ ֶה אֶת־כׇּל־עֲדַת בְּנֵי יִשְׂרָאֵל וַי ּ וַי א ֲ שׁ ֶ ר ־ צ ִ ו ּ ָ ה ה' לַעֲשֹׂת אֹתָם׃
And Moshe gathered all the congregation of Bnei Yisrael together, and said to them, These are the words which the Lord has commanded, that you should do them.
According to Tanna debei Eliyahu Zuta (4:8), throughout the final forty days Moshe Rabbeinu spent atop Har Sinai receiving the second set of Luchot, all of Bnei Yisrael fasted. On the last day, they went to sleep fasting as well, mirroring the practice we observe on Yom Kippur. This collective act of fasting was undertaken to ensure that the Yetzer Hara would not gain influence over them. The next morning, they gathered at the foot of Har Sinai to welcome Moshe, and as he descended towards them, both he and they shed tears. These tears ascended to Heaven, where Hakadosh Baruch Hu's mercy was aroused, and He forgave His children. Through Ruach Hakodesh, He consoled His children and promised their tears would transform into joy and happiness and that this day – Yom Kippur – would be one of forgiveness and atonement for them and their descendants forever.
On Yom Kippur, following the Avodah in Musaf, Bnei Ashkenaz describe the day in the following terms:
הָרַבִּים נָתַתָּ לָּנוּ אֶת יוֹם צוֹם הַכִּפֻּרִ ים הַזֶּה ָ עַל כֵּן בְּרַחֲמֶיך וְאֶ ת יוֹם מְ חִ ילַת הֶעָוֹן הַזֶּה... יוֹם שִׂימַת אַהֲבָה וְרֵעוּת. יוֹם עֲזִיבַת קִנְאָה וְתַחֲרוּת. יוֹם שֶׁתִּמְחֹל לְכָל עֲוֹנוֹתֵינוּ. יוֹם שׁ ֶתִּמְחֹל לְכָל עֲוֹנוֹתֵינוּ.
Therefore, with Your great mercy You have given us this Day of Atonement and this Day of forgiveness of iniquity... A day for restoring love and brotherhood, a day of abandoning envy and strife, a day which You will forgive all our iniquities.
Everyone is in the same shape, in the same shul, fostering a sense of achdut – unity. Tanna debei Eliyahu teaches that the Aseret Yemei Teshuva correspond to the Aseret Hadibrot, with the first day of Rosh Hashanah corresponding to the mitzvah of אָ נֹכִ י, and the final day of Yom Kippur corresponding to ל ֹא תַ חְ מֹד – do not covet. On Yom Kippur, nobody covets what the other has or wants anything from their neighbor. Everyone stands in fear for their life, just like the person standing next to them, whether religious or not, rich or poor, healthy or ill. All they desire is a גְּמַר חֲתִימָה טוֹבָה, a blessing of life for the coming year. This predicament fosters an environment where everyone can coexist in love and brotherhood. The Kli Yakar explains that Moshe observed the elevated state they achieved on Yom Kippur and seized the opportunity, inviting them the very next morning to begin working on the Mishkan in full unity while it lasted, just as they were when they first approached Har Sinai כְּ אִ ישׁ אֶ חָ ד בְּ לֵב אֶ חָ ד.
The Ohr HaChaim Hakadosh adds, Moshe then chose to begin with the commandment of Shabbat because we're taught that one acknowledges the divinity of an idol is as though he denied the Torah in its entirety (Sifrei Devarim 54:4), while one who observes the Shabbat is as though he observed the entire Torah, even if he worshiped idolatry as in the generation of Enosh (Shabbat 118b). The presentation of Shabbat was to atone for Cheit Ha'Egel.
I’d like to now go back to a topic we began last week – that of the וֹר ּ כִּי (basin). As we reviewed, it was presented separate from the other vessels and not within either Teruma or Tetzaveh, due to its nature. The וֹר ּ כִּי did not serve as a first-degree vessel used for mitzvah but rather as a ה ֶ כ שׁ ֵ ר מִ צ ו ָ ה – an accessory to the mitzvah. The mitzvah was for the Kohanim to wash their hands and feet prior to performing their Avodah and the basin simply ensured there’d be water available for the act. Had the וֹר ּ כִּי not been in its place, the Kohanim would instead wash their hands and feet using water from a different source and then proceed, just as Kohen Gadol did from a קִיתוֹן שׁ ֶל זָהָב (golden jug) on Yom Kippur.
Along the way in reaching this answer, we also addressed why the מִ זְבַּח הַנְּחֹשׁ ֶת and מִ זְבַּח הַזָּהָב – bronze and gold altars, were presented separately in two different Parshiot. The answer, based on the Kli Yakar, is that there are two aspects of a sin and two parts of a person that participates in sinning. Firstly, there is the act of the sin itself, performed by one’s body, also known as their nefesh behemit – animalistic soul. Secondly, there is the participation of the Neshama in the sin. After all, it is the Neshama that powers the Guf, otherwise the body would lie motionless on the ground. The first element, committed by the animalistic soul, is atoned for by sacrificing an animal on the מִ זְבַּח הַנְּחֹשׁ ֶ ת. The second element, performed by one’s holy soul, is atoned for through the Ketoret on the מִ זְבַּח הַזָּהָב.
Why is the former performed on the מִ זְבַּח הַנְּחֹשׁ ֶת? Rashi says – and we will need this explanation later – it is because the name of its metal relates to the audacity of sinning: עַזּוּת מֵצַח, and there is a term for sinning: בְּמֶצַח נְחוּשׁ ָה – with an obstinate brow. Hakadosh Baruch Hu gives man eyes and ears, hands and feet, all to serve in his Avodat Hashem and for the sake of performing mitzvot, and man as the audacity to turn around and use them for destruction and sin? That is the definition of chutzpah, and the metal of bronze is considered חֲצוּפָ ה. I saw in a few sources that bronze earns this depiction by way of it pretending to be like gold. When polished and shined, it can imitate gold just as cubic zirconia can imposter a diamond. However, neither are the real thing. Perhaps we’ll come back to this aspect a bit later.
Why is the latter – i.e., atonement for the spiritual element of the Neshama driving the sin – performed by Ketoret on the golden altar? What does the element of a desirable scent have to do with this aspect of sinning? Because the Neshama entered man’s body via the nostrils: ִים ּ ִפַּח בְּאַפָּיו נִשְׁמַת חַי ּ וַי – and He blew into his nostrils the breath of life. Chazal (Berachot 43b) ask how we know that one recited a Bracha over scent, and they answer it is from the pasuk: כֹּל הַנְּשׁ ָמָה תְּהַלֵּל יָ - הּ. What is it from which the soul derives benefit, and the body does not? Scent. Scent is connected to the Neshama, and therefore the Ketoret and its pleasant scent is brought to atone for the role of the Neshama in sinning. The Kli Yakar adds, the Neshama is called yechida – singular, and thus the golden altar was constructed as a square, with the singular dimensions of one amah wide by one amah long.
I’d like to add a piece shared by the Ba’al HaTanya as to why the Ketoret is added to the process of atonement. Sacrificing the animal on the מִזְבַּח הַנְּחֹשׁ ֶת involved opening up its body and burning its meat, and this produced an unpleasant stench in the Beit Hamikdash. Thus, the Rambam says (Moreh Nevuchim 3:45), the Ketoret was added to counteract this stench and fill the air of the Beit Hamikdash with a pleasant scent twice each day. A chasid once challenged the Ba’al HaTanya, asking how the holy Ketoret could be understood literally this was – i.e., as a room freshener to overpower the smell of burning meat – rather than something spiritual and sacred in nature. He answered with a parable which can be easily adapted to our everyday life.
Two neighbors lived next door to one another in a building, each with a very different personality. The quiet and humble Yechezkel encountered the impulsive Shlomo in the hallway, and the latter launched at him, “I'm shocked! Three months have passed since Succot and these wall panels are still sitting here next to the elevator! Everyone who walks by gets banged and nicked by them. Put them away already! How long does it take for you to put them away or throw them out?” He really laced into him, yelling בְּקוֹלוֹת וּבְרָקִים וְעָנָן כָּבֵד עַל הָהָר, as they say. All the neighbors came out to see what the commotion was about, and quickly realized it was about the panels. After Yechezkel endured the tirade, he turned to Shlomo and said, “Sir, I heard everything you said and pledge to do better. I just want to say, however, these panels aren’t mine. Mine are on the roof already.” Shlomo snapped back, “So whose are they?” Yechezkel responded, “I’m not a Navi and not entirely sure but I think they belong to an old tenant, and when the crew took out all the Succah material from the storage room downstairs, it was also taken out but then never dealt with. That’s all.” Shlomo became all apologetic, “Sorry, sorry, sorry. I didn’t know. Please forgive me. Do you forgive me?” His plea was accepted, they walked away as friends and peace was returned to the building.
A few months later, the same story repeated itself, but this time Shlomo scolded Yechezkel for not teaching his children how to properly place garbage bags in the bins. His wrath was truly בְּשׁ ֶצֶף קֶצֶף: "They place the bags on the ground at the side, and Baruch Hashem, you eat a lot of meat, and the cats love your leftovers! After the cats rip open the bags and feast, the rats show up and take care of what’s left. We end up with half a zoo in there, and that's before ‘jookim’ and worms show up for the rotting and smelly mess! And all this because you don't educate your children properly and don't make the effort to personally come downstairs to ensure your garbage is disposed of properly!" Yechezkel listened patiently and then responded, "Thank you. I hear what you're saying, and I'll do my best to improve. That said, just know that we don't use garbage bags. We use special boxes, so it's clearly not my kids causing this mess." Shlomo pushed back, "Not your kids? Then whose kids are doing this?" Yechezkel calmly answered, "I’m pretty sure the culprits are the kids of the tenants you illegally rented your second apartment to. You know, the one downstairs in your parking and storage areas. I witnessed them doing it the other day and suffice to say that those who rent illegally also dispose of their trash illegally." Shlomo was as apologetic as ever, "Sorry, sorry, sorry. Do you forgive me?" Forgiven. They walked away as friends and peace was returned to the building.
Sure enough, the same story repeated itself yet again a few months later. This time, Shlomo confronted Reb Chatzkel about a shopping cart tied to the railing downstairs. "It cannot be that a Rosh Kollel like you, with thirty Choshen Mishpat talmidim, allows his children to steal a shopping cart from the makolet and use it to schlepp branches and wood scraps for Lag Ba'omer, and then lock it up downstairs in the stairwell. You must know it’s forbidden to steal!" Yechezkel calmly responded to this frontal assault that not only targeted him and his children but the Torah too. "Can I calm my dear friend down a bit? I will try to do better, but the shopping cart is not ours. We didn't steal it, and my kids don't use it. My children's school takes care of the Lag Ba'omer bonfire for them and has a partnership with the nearby junkyard that provides tons of scrap wood, so they don't need to run around looking for any." Shlomo once again needed to know who the culprit was. "Just by chance, it happens to be your youngest son, Dudi. We see him with that cart every other day!" Shlomo knew he had really crossed the line this time and begged, "Sorry, sorry, sorry. Do you forgive me?" This time, however, the answer was negative: "I don't forgive you. You have a short fuse. First lengthen it, then we can talk."
Rabbotai, three relatable stories that may have occurred, or not. The Ba’al HaTanya asks why Yechezkel didn’t accept Shlomo's apology the third time. After all, there was a fresh start after forgiveness was given for the Sukkah panel tirade, and another when forgiveness was granted for the garbage room fiasco. If indeed there was a clean slate, why would he not forgive him after debunking the misdirected shopping cart accusation? Why did he instead pass along a message of short and long fuses?
We learn that something remained behind from those first two incidents and Shlomo wasn’t fully forgiven. Reb Yechezkel said he did, and he may have even purged the incident from his memory, but the sins also produced a stench, a stench the neighbors smelled each time they heard a commotion and opened their doors to find the quiet and humble man being scolded in the hallway. The sin was gone, but its foul stench lingered in that hallway. A “sorry” is sufficient to get rid of the sin, but not the foul stench that lingers from it. This is what the Rambam was referring to, according to the Ba’al HaTanya. The stench in the Beit HaMikdash was not that of the burning meat. It was the stench of sins! The מִזְבַּח הַנְּחֹשׁ ֶת eliminates the sin itself, but to clear the foul stench produced by it, the Ketoret and its pleasant scent emanating from the מִ זְבַּח הַזָּהָב are required.
Let’s now return to the subject of the וֹר ּ כִּי – the basin. How large does it need to be? There are no dimensions provided, as there are for the other vessel of the Mishkan, but Chazal learn it needed to be large enough – i.e., hold enough water – to wash the hands and feet of four Kohanim at a time. The Midrash (Midrash HaGadol) learn this requirement from the Pasuk: וְרָ חֲצוּ מִ מֶּ נּוּ מֹשׁ ֶה וְאַהֲרֹן וּבָנָיו אֶת־יְדֵ יהֶם וְאֶת־רַ גְלֵיהֶם – indicating Moshe and Aharon, together with Elazar and Itamar were to wash from it. The Gemara (Yoma 37a) says the וֹר ּ כִּי constructed for the Mishkan had two faucets, and in the Beit Hamikdash, a Kohen Gadol named Ben Katin constructed one with twelve spigots so twelve Kohanim could wash and be ready in unison to light the Tamid. None should have to stand around waiting for someone to wash.
After Moshe Rabbeinu gathered the people, they brought their gifts over the course of two days. Picture one of them approaching the גּ ִ ז ְ בּ ָ ר (treasurer), and saying, “I brought you 50 kilograms of gold. My neighbor in Egypt was a successful gold dealer and graciously provided me eight bars from his safe. You can weigh them. Fifty kilograms from me and my wife – my name is Shlomo ben Yisrael.” Wonderful, his gift was accepted, his name inscribed, and he was blessed for a life of nachas. Did Shlomo ben Yisrael know what would become of his gold? Did anyone stepping forward know how their gift would be directed? No. It was placed in the storage room and one person alone knew. Betzalel knew the intentions of each person and directed the gifts accordingly.
I once read that Rav Chaim Volozhin, when building his Yeshiva, sent people out to collect donations and would then receive a list of each gift along with the name of the donor. Once, one of the donors gave a thousand rubles – a very large sum at the time and much more than the typical gift. When an emissary went to visit this donor a little later to collect again, he sat down at the table and was handed a check for 500 rubles. Surprised, he asked, "Is this the total amount, or do you want to give another check for next month?" That was the amount. He thanked the donor, gave him a receipt, and moved along. When he returned to Rav Chaim and showed him a list that contained their big donor giving only half his usual amount, they both wondered why that was. A little while later, the donor visited the Yeshiva, and Rav Chaim asked, "Is everything okay? Is business going well? Why did you cut your donation in half?" The donor responded, "Yes, everything is great. But I only give larger amounts to Yeshiva students so they can learn Torah." Puzzled, Rav Chaim asked, "Nu? And what happened?" He replied, "I saw that your envoy came with a carriage and four horses. They used to come from the Yeshiva with only two horses! I’m supposed to fund his Lexus? The Subaru was good enough! So, I lowered my donation." Rav Chaim had an important message for him: “Listen, my friend. When one makes a donation, only Hakadosh Baruch Hu directs to where it should go. If it comes from a pure heart, all of it goes to talmidim who study in purity. And if the heart is only so-so, it goes to feed the horses!” The same was true for the Mishkan. The pure of heart had their gifts emerge in the Menorah and Mizbe’ach and so forth.
There was one lone exception to the above rule. There was one gift that everyone knew to where it was earmarked.
ֹבְאֹת אֲשׁ ֶר צָבְאוּ ּ וֹר נְחֹשׁ ֶת וְאֵת כַּנּוֹ נְחֹשׁ ֶת בְּמַרְאֹת הַצ ּ ַעַשׂ אֵת הַכִּי ּ וַי פֶּתַח אֹהֶל מוֹעֵד׃
He made the basin out of bronze and its base out of bronze, from the mirrors of the women who had gathered at the entrance of the Tent of Meeting.
The וֹר ּ כִּי was constructed from mirrors which were brought by the women of Bnei Yisrael, the only ones who knew where their gift would wind up. The וֹר ּ כִּי was in essence a bronze-mirrored basin (or laver), reflective in nature. Rashi says, the women possessed mirrors of bronze into which they used to look when they adorned themselves, and they did not hesitate to bring even these to build the Mishkan. (First things first, notice how Rashi specifically says בְּנוֹת יִשְׂרָאֵל had mirrors. This is because men have no business with mirrors.)
Moshe was hesitant to accept these gifts, however, because מִפְּנֵי שׁ ֶעֲשׂוּיִם לְיֵצֶר הָרָע – they were made to pander to their vanity. A person gets all dressed up and made up, and this attracts the Yetzer Hara upon them. Where is this learned? In the Gemara (Nedarim 9b):
ָמַי לֹא אָכַלְתִּי אֲשׁ ַם נָזִיר טָמֵא אֶלָּא אֶחָד. ּ ַדִּ יק: מִי ּ אָמַר )רַבִּי( שִׁמְעוֹן הַצ פַּעַם אַחַת בָּא אָדָם אֶחָד נָזִיר מִן הַדָּרוֹם, וּרְאִיתִיו שׁ ֶהוּא יְפֵה עֵינַיִם וֹתָיו סְדוּרוֹת לוֹ תַּלְתַּלִּים. אָמַרְתִּי לוֹ: ּ וְטוֹב רוֹאִי וּקְווּצ בְּ נִ י, מָ ה רָ אִ יתָ זֶה הַנָּאֶה? ָ לְהַשְׁחִית אֶת שְׂעָרְך אָמַר לִי: רוֹעֶה הָיִיתִי לְאַבָּא בְּעִירִי, הָלַכְתִּי לְמַלּאוֹת מַיִם מִן הַמַּעְיָין וְנִסְתַּכַּלְתִּי בַּבָּבוּאָה שׁ ֶלִּי, וּפָחַז עָלַי יִצְרִ י וּבִקֵּשׁ לְטוֹרְדֵנִי מִן הָעוֹלָם. אָמַרְתִּי לוֹ: רָשׁ ָע! לָמָה אַתָּה מִתְגָּאֶה בְּעוֹלָם שׁ ֶאֵינ, ב ּ ְ מִ י שׁ ֶ ה ו ּ א ָ ו ֹ שׁ ֶ ל ּ ְ ך לַשָּׁמַיִם! ָ עָתִיד לִהְיוֹת רִמָּה וְתוֹלֵעָה? הָעֲבוֹדָה, שׁ ֶאֲגַלֵּחֲך יִרְבּוּ נוֹזְרֵי נְזִירוּת ָ ָד עָמַדְ תִּי וּנְשׁ ַקְתִּיו עַל רֹאשׁ וֹ, אָמַרְתִּי לוֹ: בְּנִי, כָּמוֹך ּ מִי בְּ יִ שְׂ רָ אֵ ל.
Rabbi Shimon HaTzaddik said: In all my days as a priest, I never ate the guilt-offering of a ritually impure nazirite except for one occasion. One time, a particular man who was a nazirite came from the South and I saw that he had beautiful eyes and was good looking, and the fringes of his hair were arranged in curls. I said to him: My son, what did you see that made you decide to destroy this beautiful hair of yours by becoming a nazirite?
He said to me: I was a shepherd for my father in my city, and I went to draw water from the spring, and I looked at my reflection in the water and my evil inclination quickly overcame me and sought to expel me from the world. I said to myself: Wicked one! Why do you pride yourself in a world that is not yours? Why are you proud of someone who will eventually be food in the grave for worms and maggots, i.e., your body? I swear by the Temple service that I shall shave you for the sake of Heaven.
I immediately arose and kissed him on his head. I said to him: My son, may there be more who take vows of naziriteship like you among the Jewish people.
It was clear that Shimon HaTzaddik had no mirror at home, otherwise seeing a reflection of himself would not have been a surprise or shock. By the way, this means he didn’t have one for Tefillin either. He used his fingers to position his Tefillin Shel Rosh in the center, just as Moshe Rabbeinu did! We learn from this Gemara that as soon as one stands at the mirror to fix himself up, the Yetzer Hara has an open invitation. The Gemara in Taanit (7a) goes a step further. The daughter of the Roman emperor said to Rabbi Yehoshua ben Chananya: אִ י חׇ כְ מָ ה מְ פו ֹאָ רָ ה בִּ כְ לִ י מְ כו ֹעָ ר – Woe to glorious wisdom such as yours, which is contained in an ugly vessel. In other words, she told him how ugly he was. He responded: Does your father keep his fine wines in simple clay vessels? The emperor’s daughter indicated they were in the wine cellar, stored in specially dried and aged oak casks, at a precise specific temperature for an even more precise period of time. (All the fancy words found on our wine bottles to try and extract more money from us.) Rabbi Yehoshua ben Chananya told her: You keep the wine in dry old wood? You, who are so
