Parashat Tzav
Nissan 12, 5773 ~
March 23, 2013
by Rabbi Akiva
Naiman
Money Matters
As part of the
inauguration of the Mishkan, Moshe poured the blood of an offering on the
Mizbeach “to atone for it.” What atonement was necessary? Rashi explains that
the meaning is “to invest it with the power to provide atonement.” Sifra,
however takes the stance that there was a literal atonement necessary here.
Sifra explains that there might have been people who were guilted into
contributing money for the Mishkan, who didn’t really want to give. If so, the
money they handed over was not given freely, and in some small way could be
considered stolen. Moshe pouted the blood to atone for any such “theft.”
Isn’t that
incredible? Think about it. They had only recently stood at Har Sinai, where
they had all heard Hashem’s voice. They had all screamed “We will do and we
will listen!” They were all clear that their whole purpose was to be tied up in
their relationship with Hashem. Yet there was a good chance that some people
could not bring themselves to contribute freely to build a home for the
Shechinah. What happened to the prophetic inspiration they all experienced at
the Sea? Where was the willingness to contribute that led to the Golden Calf
being completed before Moshe returned?
It would
appear that there is a special yetzer hara
to be tightfisted when it comes to doing mitzvos. The Gemara points out that
the reason we say in Shema that “you must love Hashem, your G-d, with all your
heart, all your soul, and all your means,”
is because there are people who feel that their money is more valuable than
their lives. So when it comes to a Golden Calf, you will always find plenty of
donors. But try to open a Yeshivah or collect money for starving families, and
all of a sudden, everyone is “having a little trouble right now.”
I used to say
that you could tell which institutions are accomplishing real good by how
strapped for cash they are. There are exceptions, of course, where Hashem feels
something is so important that He gives them a grant, so to speak, but in
general the best places have the least money.
I once saw a
sefer that put it quite bluntly: around the time of Yom Kippur, everyone wants
merits. We know how to get them, too. “Repentance, prayer, and charity can wipe
away the evil decree.” Jews all over the world, he said, start praying with
such devotion, and they repent with broken hearts. But somehow, when it comes
to charity, “The voice (of prayer) is the voice of Yaakov, but the hands (of
the giving) are the hands of Eisav.” Ouch.
Even more
frightening is that as far as the Mishkan was concerned, money we give out of
feelings of guilt doesn’t really count. It’s considered like we didn’t actually
relinquish ownership.
I always tell
people that even if you can’t give to a collector, a warm smile and a brachah that he succeed cost you
nothing. But that is true only if you can’t actually give something. If someone
spends all his money on his personal version of the Golden Calf, his sympathy
and friendship are hypocritical. The fact is that a starving person can’t eat
smiles, and a Yeshivah can’t run on goodwill (although they often try). During
World War II, Zeirei Agudas Yisrael in America was one of the most active
organizations to help the refuges from Europe. Their slogan: “Sympathy won’t
help them – money will.”
I don’t usually
rant about money, but it seemed a good time. Everyone knows how tough things
are around Pesach time. Think about how people feel who can’t really make it
during the rest of the year. They can easily be crushed. That’s why there is an
age-old minhag that everyone must
contribute to the poor before Pesach. Just a thought.
Have a
wonderful Shabbos.
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