The Parasha starts by repeating information provided in the previous Parasha: “These are the records of the Tabernacle, the Tabernacle of the Pact, which were drawn up at Moshe’ bidding, the work of the Levites under the direction of Itamar son of Aaron the priest. Bezalel, son of Uri son of Chur, of the tribe of Judah, had made all that Hashem had commanded Moshe; at his side was Oholiab son of Achisamach, of the tribe of Dan, carver and designer, and embroiderer in blue, purple, and crimson yarns and in fine linen” (Exodus 38:21-23). The Zohar [Pikudei 221b] asks two additional questions: 1) why the word Tabernacle is repeated twice, following one another? 2) Additionally, the Tabernacle was described in details, in the past few Parashios, thus it was never referred as the “Tabernacle of the pact”, why is it? The Zohar answers, the word Tabernacle was repeated to inform us that whenever a person does an action in this world it’s immediately replicated in the upper world. When Bnei Yisrael built the Mishkan, automatically and immediately a Mishkan was erected in Heaven. The lower one was made from worldly materials while the upper one was made of all types of beautiful lights comprising all sorts of blessings. Furthermore, this is the very reason why it’s referred as the “Tabernacle of the pact”, since a pact can only be made between at least two parties, and so Hashem assures that the two Tabernacles will work in unison to provide all the needs of the Jewish nation. People would not get sick, People would not work hard, there was no misfortune, only happiness and peacefulness. Enemies would not even dare to attack us as Hashem’s will instill respect and reverence for the Jews rather than hate. The Midrash offers a different answer to the reason why the words Tabernacle are repeated. They hint the construction and destruction of the two Temples. What was the difference between the Temples and the Tabernacle? The Tabernacle is everlasting, it never felt in the hands of other nations, while the Temples felt afoul twice to our enemies. The Seforno (Exodus 38:21-24) links the outcome of the Temples with the people involved in their building. The first Temple was built by the righteous King Solomon; however, the workers were non-Jews from Tsur. Since the Temple was not built by righteous people, it was subject to corrosion and therefore needed to be maintained, unlike the Tabernacle. Moreover, because of its lower level of holiness it did ultimately fall into the hands of our enemies and was destroyed. The second Temple was of an even lower level of holiness; it was built by Cyrus, the Persian King, and the Tablets were not even there. Accordingly, it too fell afoul to our enemies and was destroyed. Three Verses later, the Torah informs us of the total value of the donations that were given for the building of the Tabernacle. The Seforno notes that the gifts’ value for the Tabernacle was far inferior to those of both Temples’; both of which were incredibly beautiful and expensive buildings. Yet, unlike the Temples, the humble Tabernacle continually had the Divine Presence in it. The Seforno concludes that the holiness of a building is not defined by its material value and beauty, rather by the spiritual level and the efforts of the people involved in its construction. In a similar vein, the explanation of the Seforno teaches us that the Torah attributes the value towards physical objects or buildings in a very different way than the secular’s assesment. In the secular world, the external beauty or market worth of an item define its ‘value’. In contrast, the Torah pays little heed to the external qualities, rather the internal spirituality that was invested into the item determines its true importance. Thus, the Tabernacle may have been far less physically impressive than the two Temples, but its true significance was far greater because of the intentions and efforts of the people who built it. The Talmud [Yoma 4b] describes the level of holiness present in the Mishkan: “Rabbi Zerika raised that there’s a seemingly contradiction between the Verses; One Verse states: And Moshe was not able to enter the Tent of Meeting because the cloud abode thereon… whereas another says: And Moshe entered into the midst of the cloud. It teaches us that the Hashem took hold of Moshe and brought him into the cloud”. Even Moshe who ascended the Heavens to bring us the Torah was unable to enter the Mishkan as Hashem’s spirit was residing therein. In Hashem’s Eyes the true beauty is directly linked to the efforts expended. It’s nice to help one another when it’s easy, though the true value of the Mitzva is when it requires an effort! Here’s a moving Shabbos story: Faint snatches of conversation floating through the tiny house caught Avraham Simcha’s attention. Although he was in a hurry to return to his studies at the yeshivah, the exchange between his elderly hosts momentarily held him back. “Today is erev Shabbat,” he heard the wife say. “Please be back on time.” “Of course,” reassured her husband. “I’ll do some shopping and will return home soon. Don’t worry.” “Please don’t be late,” urged the woman. A few hours later, as he returned from yeshivah, Avraham Simcha noticed a silhouette occupying the small, front window. It was his elderly hostess, her face lined with worry as she stared into the distance. Even when he stepped inside, she continued to look through the window, absentmindedly muttering to the glass, “Who knows what might have happened? It’s almost Shabbat, it’s almost Shabbat…” Avraham Simcha was puzzled. “But Shabbat is still far off. I’m sure he’ll be back by then.” The elderly woman smiled, and without looking away from the window, said, “Let me you tell you a story, and perhaps you’ll understand.” “For many years, we were childless and felt a gaping hole in our lives. We slogged through misery every day. Finally, our prayers produced a miracle: I gave birth to a beautiful boy. “But our troubles soon returned. We noticed that our son was growing rather slowly. Anxious, we took him to a doctor who diagnosed him with a heart defect. He suggested we travel to Vilna, where the medicine was more advanced, if we wanted to save him. “We set off at once and found a renowned cardiologist in Vilna. After countless examinations and tests, the cardiologist took us aside and revealed the horrible truth: There was no cure for our son’s condition; he probably wouldn’t survive for more than a few years. “We stumbled back to our inn, biting back tears, but the moment we closed the door to our room I burst into uncontrollable wails. Imagine having to hear such news about a child you were barely blessed with! “Suddenly, we heard a knock. It was one of the neighbors sharing our floor. They heard me crying and suggested that on our way back we stop in Radin, Poland, home of Rabbi Yitzchak Meir Kagan— “the Chafetz Chaim”—to request his blessing. “We left for Radin and we soon stood on the Chafetz Chaim’s doorstep only to be turned away. We were told that due to the Chafetz Chaim’s deteriorating health, he wouldn’t be granting any private audiences. We felt dazed, our last hope dashed, and barely managed to keep our balance. “But then we caught sight of a familiar face inside the house. It was the Chafetz Chaim’s grandson who had once boarded with us while learning at the Mir yeshivah. Emotionally, we explained to him why we had come, and he beckoned the three of us to enter his grandfather’s room. “‘Why did you come to me?’ asked the Chafetz Chaim. We repeated our story again. “‘How can I help?’ shrugged the Chafetz Chaim, looking around his room. ‘I don’t even have the money to allow you to see greater doctors.’ “I couldn’t handle it and broke down in tears. The grandson stepped in between us. “‘This is their only son,” he said, pointing at my boy. The Chafetz Chaim stared, his expression poignant. Then he looked at me. “‘I would like you to welcome Shabbat earlier than usual.’ “‘What must I do?’ “‘By Friday noon,’ said the Chafetz Chaim slowly, making sure I understood, ‘the dining room table should already be adorned by a tablecloth, candlesticks, and candles. After the candles are lit at the proper time, make certain that all work ceases.’ “‘I accept,’ I said, while thinking that if he had asked me to fast for two years, I would’ve happily done that as well. “The first signs of recovery were already apparent by the time we arrived home. My son’s condition improved from day to day, and as he began to eat healthily, he regained the much-necessary weight. Our local doctor was so astounded by our son’s recovery that he himself funded an additional trip to Vilna so the cardiologist there could witness the miracle. “After seeing the boy’s improvement for himself, the cardiologist kept asking whether this was the same boy he had examined not long ago. “‘Perhaps you took the boy to the doctors in Vienna?’ “‘We did not.’ “‘So, who did you take him to?’ “‘The Chafetz Chaim,’ we said, swelling with pride. ‘We follow his instructions.’ “The doctor shook his head in amazement. ‘Doctors are limited to healing existent phenomena, but to create something from nothing is impossible.’” The old hostess finished her story and turned her glance to Avraham Simcha. “Now you can understand why I so urgently await my husband’s return.”

By Rabbi Shimon Fridmann – Din Torah Of North Miami Beach

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