Oh, No! Here We Go Again?

...but wait

At first glance, when the Jewish people begin their process of giving to the tabernacle, our pride swells. We’ve been avidly following along these last few weeks as our Torah has given us the various instructions for how the tabernacle is to be built. And now here we are; we’ve finally made it.

When we read in Parshat Vayakhel that the people’s giving was so much that,

Moses thereupon had this proclamation made throughout the camp: “Let no man or woman make further effort toward gifts for the sanctuary,

our hearts swell.

It’s the only capital campaign effort that needed to be stopped early. It’s a testament to their faith and generous hearts that out in the middle of nowhere, when they could have gone astray, they instead chose to give. Yet, that’s not the consensus view on this, in part, because it’s impossible to read the portions of the latter books of Exodus without seeing the remnants of the golden calf in the rear view.

In the Talmud Yerushalmi¹:

Rabbi Yehudah Ben Pazi says the following “Can we read these verses and not shudder? For good: every willing heart brought for the tabernacle. For evil-all the people broke off their ornaments to give to the golden calf.

Rabbi Yehudah notices a linguistic connection. On one hand, what a miraculous moment to have the people bring with overflowing arms. But also, we’ve seen this movie before. The same bringing that we are seeing here should remind us of the bringing that resulted in the golden calf. Are they just replacing one idol with another?

Every verse in the setting of the Torah is seen as one part of the whole and we can’t ignore the contrast between this bringing of the tabernacle and the other bringing of the calf.

If we read closely though, we can alleviate some of the anxiety. With the golden calf, we see it was all the people who participated; it was a free-for-all. Here, with the tabernacle, we have a very different task, driven by different intentions and needs:

Thus the Israelites, all the men and women whose hearts moved them to bring anything for the work that the LORD, through Moses, had commanded to be done, brought it as a freewill offering to the LORD.

It’s gold that is given but backed by a giving heart. It’s implying that it’s not the free wheeling giving that took place with the golden calf. It’s a giving that is bigger than themselves. It’s a giving that is baked in with contrition.

On this verse, we also notice an apparent redundancy.

Why does the text say bring and brought twice?

The Torah’s repetition of a concept, word, or phrase is never superfluous. On this question, there are two powerful responses.

From the Abarbanel, the great Portuguese commentator.

This repetition of bringing is making sure you understand not to read this bringing in a negative light like the golden calf. Rather, this was bringing for truly altruistic reasons, for the sake of sanctifying God’s name in the world.

Interestingly, the Abarbanel intuits that anyone reading this section in the shadow of the golden calf incident would be triggered. Instead of allowing the reader to fall in this trip, the Torah according to the Abarbanel unsubtly nudges us. Nope, don’t go there. This is different. They brought, not like those people, but rather for the purpose of goodness.

Then the Malbim, a 19th century Ukrainian Biblical commentator:

This doubling of bringing is to show you that even if you don’t have a lot, all you needed was the intention...to serve God….to recognize that even if you couldn’t bring materials, you could bring your mindset of devotion to God(intention).

A similar response but from a different angle. The extra “brought” here was an emphasis that a person needn’t have brought all the finest things in their possession, or even anything nice at all. Rather they had to come with the proper mindset. With the golden calf, the people thought that to participate you needed only the finest stuff, that material superseded intent. Here, intent greatly supersedes material.

These two commentators’ weaving of this understanding into the text teaches a valuable lesson about human beings, our past failures, and how we approach those who come for a second chance. Woe to us if we faced a God after our greatest failing and God said, nope, I know how this story ends. No matter what tale you spin, I ain’t buying it.

Yet, here in the real world, only through restitution and rectification do we find absolution. It is why the people have to face their failing in action for the second time. Choosing to run away from that confrontation is a choice we can make but how much growth do we lose? It’s why the Torah cues us with its repetition of bringing. With their second “brought” a wrong seems to be righted, at least for this moment.

Mere words are not a worthy substitute. Hannah Arendt, a German philosopher and political theorist wrote in her treatise The Human Condition, about forgiveness:

Without being forgiven…released from the consequences of what we have done, our capacity would … be confined to one single deed from which we could never recover. People would remain victims of consequence.

The act of forgiving, in her mind, is the needed balance to the promises people make to one another—the bedrock of our society—because it creates the space of moving beyond the pain of a broken promise. But that also means remembering that the promise was broken in the first place. If we are to play judge, jury, and executioner with people’s failings, we will undoubtedly all fail ourselves. If not in the next week, perhaps the next year, and certainly in our own lifetimes.

We seem to live in a world in which people are rewarded for aggressively denying wrongdoing, which runs counter to Judaism’s message. Yet it’s not just that it’s important to take accountability. The message from the Torah here also pushes us in our vulnerability. When we have our “golden calf” moments and we confront that dynamic again, try to embody the growth of the Israelites. Recognize where you had lost sight of your larger purpose in life. Discern when you’ve become caught up in the fervor of your fear.

As I was learning this, I couldn’t help but wonder where would our people be had the Israelites not faced down their demon? Would we be where we are today had God not given us that second chance to “bring” again? Second chances aren’t a magic elixir that suddenly wipes away what happened to get you here in the first place. What they are though is a chance to look at yourself in the mirror, see how you got here, and this time bring yourself to a place where wholeness, goodness, and divinity can reside.

Shabbat Shalom and Happy Weekend!

1. Shekalim 1:1