This week’s dvar Torah is by R’ Binyamin Yudin, Rav of Congregation Shomrei Torah in Fairlawn, NJ, from his sefer of essays on the Torah Portions, with many emendations.

The word pekedei literally means an accounting. In Parshah Pekudei, Moshe does just that:  He gives an accounting of how the various precious items which were donated were dispersed and used on behalf of the Mishkan (i.e. the desert Tabernacle, the ‘Tent of Meeting’; precursor to the holy Temple). Why does he do this? Of all people, isn’t Moshe Rabbeinu trustworthy enough to be beyond even the slightest inkling of suspicion? The Torah itself testifies (in Parshas Beha’aloscha) that even G-d says regarding Moshe, “b’chol bai’see ne’eman hu – in My entire house, he is the trusted one” [Numbers 12:7]. So, why then is he – of all people – required to give an accounting of all the materials and donations that went into building the Mishkan?

The Midrash addresses this question: In the aftermath of the Golden Calf fiasco, the Torah tells us (in Parshas Ki Sisa) that the Shechinah would accompany Moshe when he went to and from the Tent of Meeting – and all the people would stand before him, watching as a pillar of cloud would accompany him wherever he went. Commenting of the words, “v’hee’bee’tu acharei Moshe – and they would gaze after Moshe” [Exodus 33:8], the Midrash tells us that some people would say, “Look at that Moshe is – isn’t it amazing that he is always in constant contact with G-d…” while others would say, “Look at that Moshe – he has access to all the gold and silver that was collected for the construction of the Mishkan; do you think it’s possible that he didn’t line his pockets with at least some of that gold and silver…” As soon as Moshe became aware of these whisperings, he resolved that he must make an “accounting” of everything [Shemos Rabbah 51:6].

Moshe Rabbeinu thus teaches us that even people and leaders that are ‘beyond reproof’ have a responsibility to be totally transparent and to make a meticulous accounting of everything that passes through their hands. What do we learn from this teaching? That we need to give a regular ‘accounting’ of everything we have been blessed with in our lives – not only to G-d, but also to ourselves and to our fellow man. There is a pasuk (in Parshas Mattos) that says, “vee’yee’sem n’ki’yim mai’Hashem u’mi’Yisrael – and you shall be free of guilt, both before G-d and before Israel” [Numbers 32:22]. A person must be free of guilt not only before G-d (Who, of course, knows everything that we do), but also before our fellow man, so that all of our actions will be beyond even the slightest hint of suspicion.

There is a Mishnah in Shekalim [3:2] that also follows along the lines of this key principle of Jewish hashkafah (philosophic approach to life): The Mishnah teaches us that when any person went in to the Temple confines to collect the money (gold and silver) which was placed in the communal collection boxes there [especially during this time of year, when each male over the age of twenty was commanded to deposit a machatzis hashekel – a half of a shekel – in annual contribution to Bais haMikdash], then that person was not allowed to wear a hemmed garment (such as cuffed pants); nor was he allowed to wear shoes or sandals (within which money could be carried); and he was prohibited from either donning tefillin or wearing an amulet (each of which were objects that contained an inner storage area!). Thus, if this person who collected the communal money subsequently became rich(er), no one should suspect that he helped himself to communal funds; and if this collector subsequently became poor(er), no one should suspect that he was being punished from Above for stealing from the mizbayach  (communal altar). In other words, all these precautions were so that he should beyond suspicion and thus “be free of guilt, both before G-d and before man.”

The Talmud also gives examples of priestly families who were in charge of producing or procuring special items for use in the Bais haMikdash – and who took extreme measures to make sure that no one suspected them of helping themselves privately to these consecrated things [Yoma 38a]. For instance, the Garmu Family was involved in to production of the lechem hapanim – the special consecrated loaves placed weekly on the Table of Showbread. The Gemara tells us that ‘refined bread’ (as opposed to the whole wheat, coarser variety) was never found on their tables or in the hands of family members. In another instance, the Avtinas Family, who were specialists in the production of the ketores (the holy Temple incense), would not wear any kind of perfume or scent on their bodies. When a bride from outside the Family married in, she was told up front the Avtinas Family rule: No Perfume.

Later on in the same Talmudic Tractate [Yoma 86], the Gemara talks of the tremendous responsibility which one Jew has for another. On the one hand, each Jew is enjoined to be a role model for our People, taking great pains to avoid any situation which does not appear to be upright and yashar (straight) in the eyes of his fellow man. This would include not doing anything which would come under the category of maris ayin – i.e. even though he’s not actually doing anything wrong, nevertheless it ‘looks’ bad. One the other hand, if I see someone else doing something which appears to be wrong, I must find an excuse for his behavior and thus be “dan es kol ha’adam l’chaf zechus – to judge every person favorably” [Pirkei Avos 1:6]. Thus, I am enjoined to be painstakingly careful when it comes to my own behavior and how it will be perceived by others; but also to bend over backwards when it comes to judging my fellow man. I must be extremely careful when it comes to my own accountability, but take it easy when it comes to my neighbor’s. And that’s the Jewish way.

HaRav Moshe Feinstein zt”l was known to say that each individual must view himself as if he/she were a miniature Sanctuary. If one should want to shirk their own personal responsibilities and ask “What difference does it make how I live my life; of what significance is it whether or not I do the right thing?” Then the answer to this rhetorical question is that just as the Mishkan was built to be an abode for the Shechinah, so too each one of us has the capacity of becoming a merkavah (a chariot, an dwelling place of sorts) for the Shechinah.

In other words, R’ Moshe Feinstein’s guidance was that in the greater scheme of things, it’s really not about you; rather, it’s about what you represent. It’s about G-d; it’s about the way that people look at you and draw greater conclusions from your behavior. When the people gazed upon Moshe Rabbeinu – they saw the Shechinah. G-d forbid that people could entertain the idea that Moshe Rabbeinu stole from the materials which were donated to the Mishkan! Or that anyone involved in communal affairs would take anything that didn’t belong to them! G-d, of course, knows what we are made of and what it true and what is false. But each one of us must defend the honor and the glory of G-d and His Torah by personally making an accounting of our actions, so that we will all “be free of guilt, both before G-d and before man.”

A Sheva Brachos Vort – On Building a Mikdash Me’at

This past week I was zocheh to say over this Torah thought at the Sheva Brachos of my good friend Pesachia Neuman and his kallah, Devorah Bernstein – may they be zocheh to make their new home into a Mikdash Me’at! This vort might be fitting to say over at any Sheva Berachos, especially for one that occurs during the final parshiyos of Sefer Shemos.

It is a common bracha that we wish the chassan and kallah the ability to be able to make their new home into a Mikdash Me’at – a miniature Sancturary, patterned after the Mishkan which was built in the desert and which became a suitable dwelling place for the Shechinah. How is it possible to build your fledgling home into a miniature Sanctuary?

First and foremost we see that there must be a willingness to be a giver; every member of Klal Yisrael stepped forward and donated something that was necessary for the building. These were the terumos of the Jewish people, and they gave unstintingly. Also when it came to the upkeep of the Mishkan, each member of the tribe was expected to give a half shekel – not a whole shekel, but a half shekel – to indicate that the building of the Mishkan was a joint effort, everyone giving their half which would make the building whole. So, too with the the chassan and kallah and their efforts to build a Mikdash Me’at  - there must be a spirit of giving.

Secondly, they must be willing to work together, since it took teamwork to place the pieces of the Mishkan into a working unit. And sometimes, they people needed to ask sheilos as to how the pieces were supposed to come together. A spirit of teamwork and of asking advice is a prerequisite for building a Mikdash Me’at.

Once the Mishkan was constructed, it was a place of bringing karbonos – literally, sacrifices. These sacrifices were a means of coming closer to Hashem (as the name implies, karban from the root word kiruv, to come close). A spirit of sacrifice, of giving to the other, is necessary for building a miniature Sanctuary, for it is through this additional spirit of giving that the chassan and kallah can draw close to one another and closer to Hashem, as He comes to inhabit their new home.

And finally, there is the spirit of joy: When the new Mishkan was finally finished and all the pieces were in place, there was gilah, rina, ditzah v’chedvah, ahava v’achava, shalom v’rei’us. The spirit of joy that pervades all great endeavors and their beginnings should linger; the joy of the chuppah should never dissipate. IY”H through all these things, the the chassan and kallah will be zocheh to build a binyan ah’dai ahd!