Parshas Vayakhel–Snowballs and Sacred Moments

By: Rabbi Tzvi Hersh Weinreb

This week’s Torah portion, Vayakhel, (Exodus 35:1-38:20) begins on a familiar note. After all, it was just last week, on Purim, that we read Queen Esther’s dramatic response to Mordechai’s request that she personally intervene with King Achashverosh on behalf of the Jewish people. Initially, as you will surely remember, she is quite hesitant to accede to his request. But finally, she agrees, with these resounding words:

“Go, and gather all the Jews found in Shushan and have them fast on my behalf, neither eating nor drinking for three days, day and night. I too, and my entourage, will likewise fast…!” (Esther 4:16).

With these inspiring—even poetic—words, she accomplishes a truly rare occurrence. The Jewish people, already slandered by Haman himself as a “dispersed and disunited people,” unite and accept her request totally. The entire Jewish population, without exception, gathers in prayer at her behest.

Wonder of wonders! But Esther was not the first to achieve such a result. That honor goes to Moshe Rabbenu, as we read in the opening verse of this week’s parsha:

“And Moshe assembled all the congregation of the Children of Israel and addressed them…”

Moshe and, long afterwards, Esther were both capable of this unique feat. They both united the entire Jewish community—Esther in a moment of impending doom, and Moshe at a much happier occasion, laying the foundation of the Mishkan, the Holy Tabernacle.

What was the content of Moshe’s address to the entire congregation? He prefaced the body of his remarks by stating that he was about to inform them of the very words of the Almighty Himself. He begins, predictably, with perhaps the most important mitzvah of all—Shabbat, the Sabbath. His message is forceful but quite brief.

He then continues at greater length to educate them about the structure and content of the Mishkan. He delineates the metals, oils, spices, fabrics, furs, lumber, and sacred garments that will be required. His ultimate message is his appeal for generous contributions by, again, addressing all the Congregation of the Children of Israel. He does not limit his request to the rich and mighty. Rather, he stresses that all “the generous of heart” have a role to play in the construction and maintenance of this sacred sanctuary.

The culmination of his address is stunning: “…and all the Congregation of the Children of Israel departed from Moshe’s presence. They returned, all whose hearts moved them, and all the generous of spirit, and brought with them copious gifts… men and women responded together…” (Exodus 35:20-22).

It is at this point that we must familiarize ourselves with the comments of Rabbi Chaim ibn Atar, the eighteenth-century author of the classic Ohr HaChaim commentary on the entire Chumash. His piety and sagacity earned him the title Ohr HaChaim HaKadosh, the Holy Ohr HaChaim. This is how my grandfather, himself a pious and sagacious Jew, referred to him, and so will I.

The Ohr HaChaim HaKadosh is astounded by the phrase “…and all the Congregation of the Children of Israel departed from Moshe’s presence.” He remarks: “Did they all rush away hurriedly without taking leave of their leader? Did they not respectfully ask permission from Moshe to depart from his presence? Are we not taught by our sages in Tractate Yoma that a disciple may not depart from his master without first asking permission to leave?”

He responds to these questions by suggesting that the spiritual enthusiasm which pervaded the spectacle of a totally united Jewish community overcame their judgement to the extent that they departed hastily. They neglected to ask Moshe’s permission to leave his presence because they were completely absorbed in the task he assigned. Their only concern was to donate, as quickly as humanly possible, the materials necessary for the holy task with which they were now charged.

This enthusiasm was not short-lived, as such enthusiasm typically is. Quite the contrary, as the Ohr HaChaim HaKadosh points out. Their enthusiasm grew with time, as we see in so many subsequent verses. In fact, their enthusiasm motivated them to donate far more of the materials than were necessary. They had to be ordered to halt their donations, to dim their fervor, to restrain their enthusiasm, although it was commendable.

Others have referred to the comments of the Ohr HaChaim HaKodesh as illustrating the power of what I call “the sacred moment.” The experience of even a fleeting spiritual experience, in this case the phenomenon of authentic community and the commitment of an entire nation to a sacred task, can “snowball” into a constantly evolving dedication to the common good. Hence the title I’m giving to this Person in the Parsha— “Snowballs and Sacred Moments.”

A wise man whose works I’ve quoted here in the past, Rav Chaim Zeitchik, of blessed memory, elaborates upon this “snowball” concept. He refers to passages in Talmudic works, such as, “If one sanctifies himself just a bit in this lower world, he will be sanctified so much more in the world above;” or, “If one opens himself up like the eye of a needle, I [the Lord] will open up for him the gates of the Temple hallway.” These sayings, and so many others like them, can easily be described as the “snowball effect.” As the tiny snowball, in one sacred moment, rolls down the snow-covered hill, it grows to a mammoth snowball.

Perhaps this is what is meant by the adage in Pirkei Avot: One mitzvah results in another mitzvah, mitzvah goreret mitzvah. Or in our jargon, “Roll a snowflake downhill and it will develop into a snowy boulder.”

Life, particularly Jewish life, is rife with such “sacred moments.” They can be found in the beauties of nature, in the study of Torah, in words of prayer, in watching little children play, in reciting Psalms, in festive melodies, in moments of sadness, and in dancing with joy.

But the lesson of Esther’s request, and perhaps even more so in Moshe’s ability to bring us all together, provides us with model “sacred moments,” moments of achdut and togetherness. If only we could grasp such moments, even if they are but fleeting moments, and allow them to expand and grow like snowballs rolling downhill, we would be better individuals and develop into a true am kadosh, a holy people in every sense of the word.

Let’s preserve the sacred moments that we all experience on occasion and allow them to expand, develop, and grow like snowballs. We will all be the better for it.

Rabbi Tzvi Hersh Weinreb is the Executive Vice President, Emeritus of the Orthodox Union.