By Michael R. Mantell, Ph.D.
SAN DIEGO — This special week, on Shabbat Shekalim, and the blessing of the new month of Adar II, we read parashat Vayakhel. This is the first of several Shabbatot leading to Passover, including Shabbat Zachor, Shabbat Parah, Shabbat HaChodesh and Shabbat HaGadol. It is also another personally meaningful parasha in that this Torah reading brings in the name of my father, Betzalel, עליו השלום, whose yahrtzeit is on 29 Adar 5740, March 8/9 2024.
We are told in Vayakhel that Betzalel was filled with ruach Elohim, and according to Rashi, Betzalel also had chochmah, t’vunah, (insight or experience) and daat. The name “Betzalel” means “being in God’s shadow,” suggesting that he had attained the level of tzadik and achieved yihud with Hashem. But simply possessing chochmah, t’vunah and daat, simply sharing a unity with Hashem, are not enough. It’s what you do with your education and knowledge to help others, that matters.
Ibn Ezra, an 11th century commentator wrote, “The Torah found it vital to stress that Betzalel…was endowed with the ability and the will to teach and communicate his skills and knowledge to those willing to learn.” Betzalel, we learn this week, had the ability to teach and empower others, and did, as did my father.
Chaim ibn Attar, an 18th century rabbi, stated, “Being able to share one’s wisdom with others is a special gift. Yet, to do so one needs not only talent, but also a generous spirit. Not everyone can teach,” the Rabbi observed, “Some wise men are on so high a plane that they cannot descend to the people to speak their language.” Betzalel had this special gift, the ability to teach from his heart, and B’H, used it to help add further distance from Egypt.
Have you considered the light you might share within our community through the wisdom gleaned from your own Torah studies? Imagine the ripples of compassion and understanding that could emanate from your heart, enriching the lives of those around you. After all, each of us possesses the inherent ability to illuminate the path for another through the warmth of our knowledge and the strength of our spirit. What beautiful possibilities might unfold if we all chose to share our unique gifts? Let your light shine brightly and witness the transformation it inspires in all of us and in our community. We need this now, more than ever.
Divisiveness is a danger to our community. Recall that the Temple was destroyed because of sin’at chinam, baseless hatred. People fought against each other during the sin of the Golden Calf, during the giving of the Torah. What’s different today? Think you are better than the next person in your community? Utter and complete nonsense, and quite dangerous! Hashem speaks about us in the singular – who are we to be divisive because we think we are better than the next one? The parasha implies it is a positive commandment, a mitzvah, to bring congregations together and embrace all – all. Our observance is not a “my-way or the wrong way” affair. It is the way of Hashem.
Resh Lakish and Rabbi Yochanan debated this in the third century. One view was omitting even one mitzvah dooms that person to failure. The more generous view is that performing one mitzvah leaves that person worthy of eternal reward. In the Mishnah in Kiddushin 1:10, this more munificent view is recorded. Don’t judge another. We are one. As it says, “These are the matters that Hashem commanded to do them” — to let us know that it isn’t enough just to gather and talk. Rather, talking should lead to positive, Hashem-inspired action.”
Let’s talk only in ways that bring people together and then act accordingly. As we recognize the unique gifts and contributions each person brings, our community flourishes like a tapestry, woven with diverse threads of beauty. If we all focus on the mitzvah of recognizing the distinct contribution each can make, our community will thrive. Everyone can share in the excitement of building community unity. Each of us can join in. In the esteemed words of Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks, זצ״ל, “Ours is a religion of community. Our holiest prayers can only be said in the presence of a minyan, the minimum definition of a community. When we pray, we do so as a community.” Let’s join hands, each of us, and weave a symphony of unity, where every note resonates with the beauty of belonging.
Shekalim is the plural of shekel. While today we are responsible for maintaining our shuls and schools, in biblical times, every male over the age of 20 had to contribute a half-shekel to maintain the Temple. As it says, “Everyone who is entered in the records, from the age of twenty years up, shall give Hashem’s offering. The rich shall not pay more, and the poor shall not pay less than half a shekel when giving the Lord’s offering as expiation [or atonement] for your persons. You shall take the expiation money from the Israelites and assign it to the service of the Tent of Meeting; it shall serve the Israelites as a reminder before Hashem, as expiation for your persons.”
We read, “When you take a census of the Israelites [to determine] their numbers, each one will be counted by giving an atonement offering for his life…. Everyone included in the census must give a half-shekel.” In the counting of the Israelites, there lies a deeper significance that transcends mere numbers. The contribution of a half-shekel coin transforms the census into an act of connection between each individual and the greater whole of the community. While a headcount might seem a more direct method, the offering of a half-shekel carries profound meaning. Consider this: the shekel represents completeness, yet it is offered in half. This symbolizes the idea that we are made whole only when joined with others. It encourages us to see ourselves not as isolated individuals, but as integral parts of a greater, unified community. Our contributions, like a half-shekel, however small it may seem, are essential to the vibrancy and strength of the collective.
The tradition of not directly counting Jews continues today. To determine if there are enough for a minyan, we use verses from the Torah with a known number of words, like the ten words of “Hoshiah et amecha” or “Hamotzi lechem min haaretz.” This avoids directly tallying people’s numbers. For the Jewish people, our strength and resilience have come not from our population size, but from our faith, wisdom, and our unified community.
Israel stands as the one small Jewish state among over forty Muslim-majority countries, yet our right to exist is constantly challenged. Though we are a small people in numbers, our strength flows from the meaningfulness of each person’s contribution, not the size of our population. We honor the tradition of not counting Jews directly, for it reminds us that it’s the light within each soul, the quality and impact of our actions, that truly define the spirit of our people. This explains the tradition of not directly counting Jews – what matters is not our quantity, but the quality of our deeds. We each count. With every act of kindness, every word spoken in pursuit of justice, we make an indelible mark upon the world. May we, through the collective brilliance of our contributions, continue to build a future where righteousness and compassion illuminate the path for all.
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Michael R. Mantell, Ph.D., prepares a weekly D’var Torah for Young Israel of San Diego, where he and his family are members. They are also active members of Congregation Adat Yeshurun. He may be contacted via michael.mantell@sdjewishworld.com