This Shabbat we study the Parshah Vayakhel, meaning “And he gathered” (Exodus 35:1). Moses assembles the people of Israel and reiterates to them the commandment to observe the Shabbat. He then conveys G-d’s instructions regarding the making of the Mishkan (Tabernacle). The people donate the required materials in abundance. Moses has to tell them to stop giving. A team of wise-hearted artisans make the Mishkan and its furnishings (as detailed in the previous Torah readings of Terumah, Tetzaveh and Ki Tisa.

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Chabad.org

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The Jewish people were eager to donate. The project, the building of the Tabernacle in the desert. They donated enthusiastically: bracelets; earrings; rings; blue, purple and crimson wool; linen; goat hair; red-dyed ram skins; tachash skins; silver and copper were some of the items that were gifted. There was, however, one item that Moses refused to accept: the mirrors.

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Moses saw the mirror as an enemy. Here was a tool designed to focus attention on the self rather than on the Divine. He sought to create a transparent “window”; to teach people how to view the world as a window through which one can see the awesome power of the Creator. The mirror, blocking the light and reflecting the vision back to the viewer, was the polar opposite of everything Moses stood for.

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Gd disagreed; explaining to Moses that the mirror could be just as holy as it could be destructive. The mirror captures a deep truth. When glass is covered with a layer of silver that obstructs the transparency, the result is more profound. Looking at a mirror, while one cannot see forward, one is able to see behind. One will see the unexpected.

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Moses preferred clarity of vision. He was drawn to transparency, to a place where holiness is obvious. Gd explained that the purpose of the Tabernacle, which reflects the purpose of the creation of the world, was to be mirror-like, to see the holiness where it is least expected, to understand that desire can be an expression of transcendence and spirituality. The mirror reminds us that in order to experience the true profundity of the infinite Gd, one should look not directly upward to the transparent heavens, but rather one should look down here on earth, where the concealment of the material creates a deeper reflection of the oneness of Gd.

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From an article by Rabbi Menachem Feldman

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Why are the lives of the sages filled with miracles? Because they open their minds to truth and labor over it day and night. They are the awakened mind of the cosmos—through them the Infinite Light enters this world. So, of course, nature bows to them, the angels wait upon them, and everything is arranged to serve their mission. And so it is with any one of us who seeks the truth and clings to it with heart and soul. Hold tight to what’s right and the world is at your feet.

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Rabbi Tzvi Freeman

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Rashi comments on this verse: “This action required extra-ordinary skill, for they spun the hair from off the backs of the goats.” The women had not been instructed to do so. They did so on their own, by their own inspiration. They realized that if they were blessed by Gd with this unique ability, they should use it for the service of G-d, for the building of the Sanctuary. This teaches us the following: When the Almighty grants anyone special talents and abilities, he or she is to use them for the service of Gd. Each one must use his or her talents and aptitudes to help achieve the ultimate purpose and transform this world into a sanctuary, a fitting abode for Gdliness.

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Rabbi J. Immanuel Schochet

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A friend recently told me about a fellow with whom he regularly studies Torah. This particular gentleman is quite wealthy, and to his credit, generously supports a large number of Jewish institutions. My friend knows him as a kind, caring, and committed man. Recently, while they were learning over the phone, my friend could sense that his study partner seemed particularly bushed. “Yeah, it’s been a long day,” he agreed when prompted. “I had to really dish it out to quite a few people at the office today.” This caught my friend off guard. “You know me as a kind, gentle guy,” he continued. “But at work, I am ruthless. No one gets by me, and if necessary, I will destroy any competition that stands in my way. It’s exhausting.” I don’t think he’s the only one.

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The opening words of our Torah portion tell us how Moses assembled the Jewish people to give them these instructions, lending the parshah its Hebrew name, “Vayakhel—and he gathered.” Now, what is “gathering” all about? That’s simple enough: unity and harmony between people. The unity is pronounced in our case, for if you look closely at the verse, Moses didn’t just gather the heads of household, or a learned few, but “the whole community of Israel.” It was a nationwide gathering, highlighting sharing and equality.

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It is in this context that the next words, “six days work may be done,” are particularly relevant. By inserting these extra words, right after the description of Moses gathering the people, the Torah is telling us that the spirit of “Vayakhel” carries over not only to Shabbat when we rest, but also to the six days when we work.

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You see, a common mistake people make is to reserve the spirit of “Vayakhel,” of sharing and harmony, for times like Shabbat, when we are more spiritually inclined and there's little competition. But when it comes to the rest of the week, when we’re all in our respective workplaces, there's no place for Mr. Nice Guy. A person must be competitive, cutthroat, and ruthless. After all, it’s a dog-eat-dog world, and if you’re not keeping ahead of the pack, you’ll lose. “The workweek is not the time and place for Vayakhel, for unity and equality,” they say.

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This “Shabbat-Six Days” divide is all too common. Walk into any shul on an average morning, and you’ll see all kinds of people praying, learning, chatting over a cup of coffee, and rubbing shoulders with one another. But when the prayer books are closed and the suits and ties are on in the office, a different person emerges. All of a sudden, the person you shared that coffee with in the morning is competition, and you’ll cut him down at the first opportunity. Others feel the need to assume an air of “boss,” and think that they can’t afford to share a kind word or joke in the break room. It’ll chip away at their machismo and hurt their success.

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And the Vayakhel divide can creep up in other parts of your life, too. Think about it: You have no problem being nice to your neighbors, sharing recipes, a spare egg, and inviting them over for a Sunday barbecue every once in a while. Your kids go over to each other’s houses, and you’re more than happy to have a beer or coffee together when things are quiet. These are non-competitive, “Shabbat-like” settings that don’t really take anything off your back, so you’re happy to share. Vayakhel comes easy. But when that same neighbor asks you to share a business contact, or the number to your babysitter, or tries to confer with you on a small matter regarding their tax return (you’re an accountant after all), then you’re not so nice anymore. So here’s a handy reminder: Vayakhel applies everywhere—including the “six days work shall be done.”

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From an article by Rabbi Aharon Loschak

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