This Shabbat we study the Parshah Ki Tisa, meaning “When you take” (Exodus 30:11). The people of Israel are told to each contribute exactly half a shekel of silver to the Sanctuary. Instructions are also given regarding the making of the Sanctuary’s water basin, anointing oil and incense. “Wise-hearted” artisans Betzalel and Aholiav are placed in charge of the Sanctuary’s construction, and the people are once again commanded to keep the Shabbat.

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The Parshah also contains the story of the Golden Calf, of Moses breaking the tablets engraved with the Ten Commandments and then ascending Mount Sinai once again to get a new set of tablets.

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Chabad.org

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The Torah portion of Ki Tisa has the dubious distinction of containing the shameful debacle of the Golden Calf. A nation who experienced the greatest Divine revelation in history at Mount Sinai only a few weeks prior, suddenly loses itself completely, and, in the absence of Moses, looks to a man-made statue as its new leader. 

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Moses returns to the aftermath of this travesty and breaks the Tablets in righteous indignation. But he also goes back to G-d to plead for forgiveness for his errant nation and succeeds. Yet when he returns with the second set of tablets, he comes down the mountain and calls for those who are loyal to G-d to join him in rooting out the evil-doers in their midst. The wicked are punished and some 3,000 people are put to death.

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Tradition explains that those who were executed were the rebellious ringleaders, the rabble rousers, the active perpetrators who convinced their brethren to follow their lead down the idolatrous path. These people simply could not be forgiven.

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Then there were the casual bystanders, those who were not actively involved but who stood around and “sort of” participated. Perhaps they were watching from the sidelines. Maybe they answered amen or something. It is this second group who G-d forgave. But if they weren’t really involved, why did they need any forgiveness at all? What was their sin?

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A bystander who could have helped but did not, is not so innocent. Precisely because they stood by without protesting is what makes them sinners. If the good people stand aside and say, “leave me alone,” or “I don’t want to get involved,” then, tragically, the dark forces will prevail, and our world will be all the poorer for it.

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From an article by Rabbi Yossy Goldman 

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The history of the Jewish people is not just one of rise and fall. It is a process, a purification, a sieve of many filters, a smelting furnace that refines the raw ore again and again until only the purest gold remains. That is why today we are able to do a mitzvah today in a world so foreign to mitzvahs; to fill our lives with that which filled our great-grandparents’ and raise children that way; to go against the stream of the culture around us and be the Jew inherent within. It is not with our own power, or with our own minds. It is with a hidden memory, an indestructible force that survived as our heritage.

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As a Jew you must swim against the stream. A thousand generations hold your hand.

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Rabbi Tzvi Freeman

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Israel’s sins caused the destruction of the Beit Hamikdash (Holy Temple) and the subsequent galut, the exile of Israel from the Holy Land and its dispersion throughout the world. This period of the present galut, a terrible era marked by both physical suffering and a tremendous degradation and loss of spirituality, corresponds to the breaking of the tablets.

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The third and final stage, which follows as a result of the galut-period, will be when the Jewish people will merit the greatest spiritual elevation that will last forever and comes about with the ultimate and complete redemption by Moshiach, speedily in our days.

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From an article by Rabbi J. Immanuel Schochet

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I bumped into one of my more obstinate students, Benjy, many years down the line. “Remember me?” he asked with a big smile. “As a kid, I was hard to handle. Fortunately, you recognized my potential. Years later, I decided to pay it forward. Today, I’m a high school principal. Thanks for not giving up on me.”

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In Parashat Ki Tisa, G-d seemed ready to give up on the Israelites, calling them a “stiff-necked” people. Moses then used this same terminology when asking G-d to forgive them [for the incident with the Golden Calf].  Being stiff-necked need not be a negative trait: Rabbi Isaac ben Redifa said in the name of R. Ami: You might think that this is a negative attribute, but, in fact, it is praiseworthy, for it means: “Either be a Jew or prepare to be hanged.”

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The Jewish people could be just as stiff-necked in their loyalty to G-d as they were in their disobedience.

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As we look across the centuries, we can grasp the full measure of Moses’ vision. Throughout history, even at risk of their lives, the Jewish people remained true to the covenant of their forefathers. Many stubbornly resisted the allure of assimilating into various host cultures. Regardless of the (often dire) consequences, they defiantly upheld their faith in the one G-d of Israel. Persecution, humiliation and even torture could not cause them to renounce their beliefs. Stories of martyrdom, of Jews willing to die for the sanctification of G-d’s name (Kiddush Hashem) abound—from the Spanish Inquisition through pogroms and the Holocaust. Jews have always been willing to die rather than convert.

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There are many times when being stiff-necked actually can be a virtue: Jewish history clearly attests to it. The Jewish people also are called an am segula, “a treasured nation.” Both terms—stiff-necked and treasured—can describe us if we combine these traits that truly define who we are.

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Recognize how seemingly negative traits can be redirected towards positive outcomes. How is this presented in your own experiences?

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Never give up on yourself or others. You cannot always see your own or another’s potential greatness.

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As a Jew, strive to direct any stubborn traits you possess towards strengthening your attributes of unyielding faith and relentless commitment to Torah values and living by them.

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From an article by Katia Bologin

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