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Piling Your Wagon High

Author:

Rabbi Schusterman

Date:

June 14, 2024

Tags:

Change, Faith, Freedom, Inspiration, Loving-Kindness, Rebuilding, Relationships


Naso has the distinction of being the longest single portion in the entire Torah. Towards the end of the parshah, the Torah describes the offerings that the tribal leaders brought in honor of the inauguration of the Tabernacle. With the Tabernacle now complete, the tribal leaders brought offerings on behalf of their tribes.

Who were these leaders? The prince of each tribe—nasi in Hebrew—was not only its political leader but also its spiritual leader.

What kind of people were appointed? Rashi comments on the phrase, “They were the leaders of the tribes,” explaining that these were the same men whom the Egyptians appointed as officers over their Jewish brethren. These Jewish officers were instructed to beat the Jewish slaves if they failed to produce their quota of bricks, but they had compassion and refrained. Instead, when the bricks presented to the Egyptian taskmasters were fewer than expected, the officers themselves took the beatings. Therefore, these officers merited to become the tribal leaders.

The Midrash notes that the Hebrew term mateh means both “tribe” and “stick.” Thus, roshei hamatot can mean both “the heads of the tribes” and “the heads [that were beaten] with sticks.” Back when Moses informed the Jewish people of the items required for the construction of the Tabernacle, the leaders did not donate first. They said, “Let the people bring what they can, and we’ll fill in whatever is missing at the end.” As the wealthiest Jews, they could have theoretically provided everything on their own. But as true leaders, their aim was first and foremost to ensure that the people did all that they needed to do; only then did they think of themselves. When Moses announced that all necessary items had been donated and the construction campaign was over, the leaders were caught off guard, having not given anything! Ultimately, they were able to provide the precious stones for the High Priest’s apron and breastplate. Now, with the Tabernacle complete, the leaders eagerly seized the opportunity to be the first to bring offerings, wanting to avoid the mistake they had made six months earlier. “They brought their offering before the L-rd: six covered wagons and twelve oxen, a wagon for each two chieftains, and an ox for each one; they presented them in front of the Tabernacle.” G‑d instructed Moses to give these wagons and oxen to the Levites to be used to transport the Tabernacle whenever the Jewish people traveled in the desert.

Regarding the service of the Levites, the verse states, “From the age of thirty years and upward until the age of fifty years, who are fit to perform the service for the service and the work of carrying, in the Tent of Meeting … they were appointed by Moses, each man to his service and his burden.” What exactly was the Levites’ service and what was their burden? Rashi explains that it refers to the music the Levites played with cymbals and harps, which accompanied the sacrifices and roused the people spiritually during the offerings. Additionally, there was the literal burden of carrying the Tabernacle’s components. The Levite family was divided into three clans—one for each of Levi’s sons: Gershon, Kehot, and Merari—who transported the Tabernacle after it was disassembled and prepared for travel. Two of the wagons donated by the tribal leaders were given to the families of Gershon, who transported the Tabernacle’s tent coverings and tapestries. The other four wagons were given to the families of Merari, who transported the Sanctuary’s wall panels, sockets, posts, and other structural components. No wagons were needed for the families of Kehot since their burden—the vessels of the Tabernacle—were so holy they bore them on their shoulders.

It appears that the leaders of the tribes calculated exactly how many wagons would be needed and donated six, along with two oxen for each wagon. Yet the question arises: why only six wagons? The leaders were wealthy. Each could have easily donated a wagon or two on their own. Figuring out precisely how many wagons it would take and donating exactly that amount seems a bit frugal. Moreover, the Talmud describes the six wagons piled so high that the beams would sometimes fall off, requiring that a spot be reserved for the Levite who would hop on and restack the beams each time they fell. Had these wealthy, dedicated leaders donated more wagons, the work would have been much easier and the Levites could have been free to concentrate on the many other tasks they were responsible for.

The Rebbe explained that herein lies a tremendous life lesson: we must maximize our potential. Nothing in this world should be wasted. When a person finds an opportunity to do a good deed, they must seize it and make the most of it. We may find ourselves thinking, “Why should I be the one to do this? There are so many others who can do it just as well! Am I expected to pile my wagon up to the top—to pile it so high with stuff that a Levite needs to climb up to make sure nothing falls off? Why should all the pressure be on me? It would be better to spread it around. Let others get involved!”

One of the classic books on fundraising, published in the mid-1970s, offered this timeless lesson: A philanthropist was asked to contribute $10,000 to a charity. The wealthy man replied, “Why are you asking me for $10,000? I have an even better idea: you should solicit only $10 from 1,000 people! You will still end up with $10,000, and you will have spread the burden around!” When you get this kind of response from a philanthropist, noted the expert on fundraising, you should take away three things: Number one, this is a guy who is good at math. Number two, this is a guy who loves to give advice. Number three—most importantly—this guy isn’t giving you more than $10!

The Rebbe taught that we need to maximize our potential. Take your wagons, load them to the top, and do whatever it takes to ensure the load doesn’t topple. Life is not a vacation. Life is not an opportunity to sit back and see what others can do. Life is about being an active partner with G‑d. If you can find space on six wagons but look to send some of your burden to a seventh or eighth wagon, you’re not going all out. Sure, it may be challenging, and spreading it out would make life easier, but you would be letting some of your potential go to waste. Let the pressures and burdens pile on, live life to the fullest, and contribute your utmost to G‑d and to everyone around you.

At the conclusion of our portion, the tribal leaders once again donate to the Tabernacle, this time all 12 of them bring separate, albeit identical, offerings on consecutive days. Despite being identical, the Torah enumerates each tribal leader’s offering verbatim, sparing none of the details. For example, the first tribal leader to donate was the famous Nachshon ben Aminadav of the tribe of Judah. The verse states, “… And his offering was one silver bowl weighing one hundred and thirty shekels … one spoon weighing ten (silver) shekels of gold filled with incense …, etc.” A profound lesson emerges from a simple play on words here: kaf achat – one spoon, asarah – weighing ten shekels, zahav mele’ah – of gold, filled (with incense). The word kaf also means “palm” or “hand.” So we can now read it as follows: If a person extends his hand to give ten percent of his earnings to charity, G‑d rewards him with fistfuls of gold!

Similarly, earlier in the parshah, when discussing one of the mandated contributions to the priest (kohen), the verse states, “Every offering of all the children of Israel’s holy things which is brought to the priest, shall be his.” The simple meaning of the verse is that “his” refers to the priest. But the Torah is also teaching us something much deeper. How can we guarantee ourselves wealth? The answer is not necessarily to work harder; there are people who work hard and don’t make a lot of money. The answer is not necessarily to make good investments; every investment looks good when you make it. The Torah tells us the answer here: If you want to accumulate wealth, give gifts to the kohen, give the tithe to G‑d, give to charity. And when you do, “It shall be his!” i.e., the money you give away will be yours, because G‑d will reward you with wealth. When giving charity (or acts of kindness), it’s easy to assume that the recipient is the beneficiary. But that is not the case. The Torah teaches that when we give, we are the ones who benefit the most.

A beautiful story is told about a great rabbi who lived many hundreds of years ago in a Muslim-majority country. He was a man of great wealth and substantial influence. Over time, he was even appointed advisor to the caliph, with whom he enjoyed a very close relationship. The caliph, however, had other advisors who were antisemitic. They harbored a strong hatred for the rabbi and constantly sought ways to undermine him. At every opportunity, the other advisors spoke ill of him to the caliph, calling him a dishonest crook and accusing him of hiding money. Finally, the caliph summoned the rabbi and asked him point-blank how much he was worth. “25,000 gold dinars,” responded the rabbi. Knowing full well that the advisor’s net worth was closer to two hundred and fifty thousand gold dinars, the caliph was understandably upset. “The accusations are true,” he thought, and he had the rabbi imprisoned. Several weeks later, still troubled by the whole incident, the caliph visited the rabbi in the dungeons. “You’re a good man,” the caliph began, speaking softly and earnestly. “I know you’re an honest man, and I cannot understand why you lied and told me you’re only worth 25,000 gold dinars. We both know that you have at least ten times that amount.” “Your Highness,” responded the rabbi. “You didn’t ask me how much money I have; you asked me how much I’m worth. I am only worth the amount that I have given away to charity. Everything else could be taken away from me at any moment.”

The only thing of real value that we can accumulate in our lives is what we give away and do for others. Our mitzvahs—including the mitzvah of charity—are all we truly possess. So let’s create massive piles of them!

Guest Article by Yehoshua B. Gordon via chabad.org




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