For the second week in a row the women will lead the men. During last week’s episode of the Golden Calf, they refused to relinquish their Jewelry and warned their husbands that it would not end well. They were correct and none had sinned. In this week’s Parasha the men have an emotional letdown as due to their sin with the Golden calf, Hashem’s spirit will only reside in the Tabernacle, instead of residing among the people. Again, the women will lead and immediately offer their jewelry to the Mishkan. They lecture their husband to stop look back and fulfill Hashem’s will. Again, they were on target. The Shulchan Aruch [O”C 417:1] relates: that the women were rewarded with the festival of Rosh Chodesh, on which women, but not men, customarily refrain from work. In what aspect is Rosh Chodesh a reward to the valiant decisions made by the women? The Shemen Tov offers a beautiful interpretation based on another Midrash. The Torah states [Shemos 38:8], “And he made the washing basin of copper and its stand of copper from the mirrors of the multitudes who thronged the entrance to the Tent of Meeting.” What was the history of these mirrors? The Midrash Shir Hashirim, quoted by Rashi, explains that during the worst times of the Jewish bondage in Egypt the men gave in to despair. They lost hope, and they separated from their wives. What was the point of bringing children into this world if their lot would be endless suffering and misery as slaves of the Egyptians? But the women refused to give up. They had faith that the bondage would end someday, that the Jewish people would be redeemed, that a future of freedom and opportunity awaited any children they would bear even in the darkest hour of their enslavement. And so, the women beautified themselves in front of their mirrors and went out into the fields where their husbands were laboring. Thus, beautified and made up, they drew their husbands back to them and convinced them that it would be good to have more children. The mirrors these women used to make themselves up were the symbol of the survival of the Jewish people. Had it not been for those mirrors, there would not have been any more Jewish children. Therefore, Hashem said, “These mirrors are more precious to Me than anything else. Use them to make the washing stand of the Mishkan.” The women were the strong ones among the Jewish people. When the men were ready to surrender to despair, the women were the steady anchor of the people, the ones that kept the faith strong, the ones that never gave up hope, the one that insisted, “We must go on.” When the Mishkan was constructed, the men once again were overcome by depression. As long as the construction of the Mishkan did not begin, the men held out hope that perhaps there would be a last[1]minute reprieve. Perhaps things would revert to the way they were, the way they should have been. Perhaps the Shechinah would yet dwell among all the people. But when the construction got under way, the writing on the wall was clear. The damage caused by the sin of the Golden Calf would be everlasting. There would be no reprieve. This was a very depressing thought, and many of the men fell into despair. They could not be themselves and contribute to the Mishkan. But the women, rocks of stability, once again came forward and saved the situation. “This is not a time to despair,” they said. “What’s done is done, and no matter how much we’ve lost, it cannot be undone by being depressed. Now is the time to look to the future, to embrace this holy Mishkan enthusiastically, to bring about a renaissance of the Jewish people.” In Egypt, the faith and hope of the women had saved the Jewish people physically. At the construction of the Mishkan, the faith and hope of the women saved them spiritually. It gave them hope to reach for a new closeness with the Master of the Universe. And for this, they were rewarded with a special status regarding Rosh Chodesh. According to our Sages, Rosh Chodesh, the festival of the new moon, celebrates the concepts of rebirth and renewal. The moon is always waning and waxing. Even in its darkest phase, we know it will once again recover its full illumination. It is the symbol of faith and hope for the Jewish people who also go through cycles of darkness and light. Therefore, it is the Jewish women, who have shown themselves most sensitive to the ideas of faith and renewal, that are most closely connected to the festival of Rosh Chodesh. Here’s is inspiring story! Excitement was palpable on every street and corner as the residents of Opatow, Poland, readied themselves for the wedding of the son of their cherished leader, Rabbi Avraham Yehoshua Heshel. Hoping to return their beloved rabbi’s year-round devotion, the townspeople all sought to help in one way or another. With the wedding set to take place in the bride’s hometown, local wagon drivers believed they held a pivotal role. The rabbi would surely hire a driver for the journey, and with the many Chassidim and extended family expected to join, the drivers reckoned dozens of wagons would be required, which they were more than happy to provide. Of course, none could overlook the tidy sum bound to end up in their pockets. So, in the weeks leading up to the wedding, the drivers began their preparations. They greased their axles and reupholstered their seats. They thought about the best places to stop, planned where to stay overnight, and carefully considered how best to tend to their horses. But two weeks before the big event, impatience soured their anticipation. The drivers waited, almost breathlessly, for the rabbi’s invitation to discuss the journey and payment, but nothing emerged. Nor was any reason given for the delay. This sentiment was reflected in the rabbi’s own home too, as members of his family also wondered why he hadn’t made arrangements for the journey. Puzzled as they were, no one approached the rabbi to question him directly, preferring to occasionally hint instead. And arrangements for the journey weren’t the only thing that had stalled. None of the family— not even the groom—had clothes for the wedding. Yet, the rabbi merely dismissed any hint of concern with a cheerful, “All in good time.” But he wasn’t oblivious. He simply lacked the necessary funds to pay for the wedding expenses. Well known for giving all he had to others, the rabbi had not a kopek to his name, much less the requisite gifts for the bride, the journey, or clothing for his family. Still, he held tightly to his belief that trust in the Almighty, together with prayer, would engender a positive resolution. Meanwhile, time for a punctual arrival to the distant town was running out. One day passed, followed by another, as the wedding drew nearer and still the rabbi made no plans with the wagon drivers, prompting them to act. They selected three representatives, hoping to finally cement a plan with the venerable rabbi. “Why are you worrying?” chuckled the rabbi. “Heaven directs everything, and there isn’t a person alive who knows what needs to happen or when.” “Rabbi,” insisted one of the drivers, “although we are simple people, we are the experts in this particular field. We have experience. And we’re telling you, unequivocally so, that even if we left tomorrow, it would be a miracle were we to arrive even a day before the wedding. Unless, of course, you intend to employ some miraculous shortcuts…” Moments after the driver finished speaking, hurried footsteps sounded from the front door. Two men had arrived, one much younger than the other. With a heavy clunk, the older man tossed a heavy pouch onto the rabbi’s desk. “One thousand gold coins,” he announced. “One thousand gold coins?” replied the rabbi, turning to the visitor. “What? Why? How?” Now it was the visitor’s turn to look confused. “Have you forgotten? Around 20 years ago, I came to you for a blessing for offspring. I was miserable. Hoping to perhaps bolster my favor in G-d’s eyes, I pledged then and there that on my child’s wedding day, whenever it would be, I would bring you 1,000 gold coins. “As you can see,” he gestured excitedly at the young man, “your blessing bore fruit. This week my son will marry, and I came here to fulfill my long-standing pledge.” “Bless the Almighty Who has not forsaken me,” breathed the rabbi with relief. After the pair parted with more blessings, the rabbi turned to the drivers, smiling widely. “Perhaps you are right. The journey is a long one, and we’re losing time. In two days, with G-d’s help, we will leave.” The minutiae of the journey, such as the number of required wagons, the stops along the route, and payment, were discussed and determined. Hands were shaken all around, and the drivers quickly left for the market to share the word with the others. The rabbi then presented his wife with the money for the rest of the expenses. A flurry of preparations followed, and two days later the long caravan of wagons rolled out of Opatow. Only once he was seated in the jostling carriage did the rabbi confess the reason for his unusual silence to his companions. “If the Rebbe perhaps hinted that something was wrong, we would’ve been able to raise the entire sum ourselves,” protested his loyal students. “I’m aware of that as well,” said the rabbi. “However, as always, my trust in G-d has never failed me in a wonderful outcome.”

By Rabbi Fridmann * [email protected] * 305.985.3461

Have A Question? Ask The Rabbi and he will Answer

990 NE 171 Street  –  North Miami Beach, Florida 33162  –  (786) 405-9692  –  www.badatzmiami.com