Pashas Vayakhel-Pikudei
Usually when Moshe taught Torah, he first instructed Aharon, then Aharon’ s sons, then the leaders of Israel and only then the general population of Israel. Here, however, when it came to teaching the laws of Shabbos, Moshe addresses everybody altogether, at the same time, “Es kol adas Bnei Yisrael”
The word “adas” comes from the word “eidus” which means testimony. By refraining from pursuing our materialistic ambitions on Shabbos, we bear witness to the fact that G-d also rested on that day. And by commemorating His rest day, we also bear testimony to the fact that He created the world.
Each of us has his or her personal story about how this concept of an undisturbable day of rest, so counterintuitive to the ideals of the society we live in, has enriched and prolonged our lives. For some of us, we have seen other human-revved-up engines overtake us at work or even replace us on Shabbos only to crash and burn further down the road of life, while we return each week spiritually and physically refreshed after having taken an enforced break to spend quality time with ourselves, our families and our loved ones. Others, like those early Jewish immigrants who refused to work on Shabbos and opted instead to sell textiles from wheelbarrows on the street corners of the Lower East Side, can testify to how their faith rewarded them as these wheelbarrows developed into chains of department stores around the country. All of us in our own way can attest to the fact that more than we have kept Shabbos, Shabbos has kept us. And so when it comes to survival, no one story is more important than the other. We are all equal and the message of Shabbos is given to us all, on one level playing field.
Shabbos is defined by the boundaries of time. To carve out an oasis in the endless horizons of time, Shabbos needs to be ring-fenced by sundown at its inception and by nightfall at its end. Postponing the onset of Shabbos at sunset would kill the whole concept. It would relegate Shabbos to just another chore in our lives that we cope with by postponement.
But Shabbos cannot get ready by itself. It needs our help both psychologically and physically.
On the psychological level we have to accept that our work for the week is finished at sundown, even though we know it isn’t. That is the message of the words “Sheshes yamim te’aseh melachah” (35:2) in the passive sense, which means that by the end of the week one’s work must be considered done rather than “ta’aseh melachah,” shall be done. We have to internalize the reality that however much time we allocate to it, our work will never be fully done. Nobody can postpone the curtain of death when it decides to descend just because one’s life’s work is not complete, and no-one can postpone the Shabbos when it descends just because one’s week’s work is not complete.
Physically too, it takes work throughout the week to bring Shabbos in on time. That is what Shammai meant when he said that whenever he found something delicious in the market, he would put it aside for Shabbos. That is also the meaning of the words “Work should be done six days a week so that the seventh day shall be holy,” because like everything precious in life, Shabbos needs planning and forethought. No show goes up on stage on time without backstage work.
“You shall not burn fire in all of your dwelling places on Shabbos” (35:2). Why is lighting fire the only one of the thirty-nine forbidden activities on Shabbos singled out here? We are told that although the 39 activities are forbidden, thinking about them is not. So whereas one is not allowed to go to work on Shabbos, one is not precluded from thinking about it. This is G-d’s concession to mankind. He may be able to control our actions, but He cannot control our thoughts. That is up to us. How can we do that?
There is the fire that we can light on Shabbos. That is called “eish das,” the fire of Torah. We have been given the most intricately beautiful mosaic of laws called the Torah. This is the only preoccupation that can replace one’s weekday thoughts. Just as one cannot work out a mathematical problem while hurtling down a ski slope, one cannot think about business when learning Torah. This is so for two reasons. First, it takes up all of one’s concentration. Second, it is the only way to connect to G-d – by thinking His thoughts in His language. That exercise lifts one temporarily out of this world and gives one a preview of the world to come. What was all consuming during the week now becomes irrelevant on Shabbos. So by singling out the prohibition of fire, what G-d is telling us is that while one may not light a fire on Shabbos for one’s physical needs, there is a fire one should light on Shabbos for one’s spiritual needs.
“And every man with whom was found [nimtzah ito] turquoise, purple and scarlet wool,” etc. (35:23), donated these rare items to the building of the Mishkan. “Nimtzah ito,” these valuable items happened to be found in his possession. How did these wandering desert nomads come to possess these luxury items?
We are told (Yoma 75a) that rare and precious items landed with the manna from heaven. But they landed for a purpose. They did not belong to the finder. They were entrusted to him for the sole purpose of donating them to the Mishkan.
Turanus Rufus asked Rabbi Akiva, “If your G-d loves the poor, why does He not feed them?” And Rabbi Akiva answered that G-d gives the wealthy money for one purpose only, to merit them with the mitzvah of charity (Bava Basra 10a). That is the concept of “nimtzah ito.” Whatever one may have is a Divine windfall of wealth that just happens to find its way to you as G-d’s payment agent for the Mishkan and for the poor.