The Sidra today is primarily an accounting that Moses gives of how he spent the moneys donated by the people, in the form of shkalim, for construction of the Mishkan. It is a prosaic matter, dealing with costs and construction. And yet, the Midrash thought it important enough to quote an oral tradition dealing with this era and particularly this episode. It is prosaic, yes, but illuminating too—of importance to every Jewish community in the USA, and perhaps especially to Springfield. Midrash: Moses overlooks 1,775 *shkalim*. Misplaced appropriation.
**Hischil yosheiv umasmi’ach, amar: ach shav Yisrael motzi’in y’deihem leimor Mosheh natalan… hei’ir haKadosh Baruch Hu et einav ve’ra’ah otam asuyin vavim la’amudim. Otoh sha’ah nispaisu Yisrael al melechet haMishkan...**
To understand why Tradition recorded this big issue over the *vavim* (or hooks used in construction of this portable Temple), we must first understand that Judaism has always taken the Mishkan and its appurtenances as being symbols—sometimes of the universe, or man—but usually of the congregation of Israel, *Knesset Yisrael*, the Jewish community. And to understand this episode of the Missing Hooks, we must first know what the *hook* may symbolize in the total structure of a typical Jewish community. And we must understand that if the Mishkan is a valid symbol of Israel, then it must apply today too. What, then, does the hook stand for?
It does not require great imagination to see how our Mishkan—our Jewish community—can be represented in the form of the Mishkan. Pillars (*amudim*) represent the physical survival of Jews vs. anti-Semitism, whether in Europe, Egypt, or the USA. The altar (*mizbeach*) is the State of Israel, where people have sacrificed so much in order to survive as an independent state. The roof shelters the impoverished—social services. The ark represents the synagogue. The ornaments represent recreational institutions supported by the *shkalim* of the Jewish community. All are necessary for a firm Mishkan, for a thriving Jewish community.
But *vavim*—the hooks—are the least glamorous, least attractive or dramatic. The *shekel*-giver wants his *shekel* to go to that which is immediately appealing, urgent, obviously dramatic. Hooks, friends, are that which hold the whole Mishkan together—prevent the roof from collapsing, the curtains from dropping to the ground, the ark from falling apart, ornaments from wallowing in mud, the altar from being torn from the interior of the Mishkan.
**Hooks are the symbol of Jewish schools—of education.**
*Vavim*—or Jewish schools—have little material evidence of their importance: only some teachers, students, books. Not as glorious as the wars of the State, as the roof over the head of the poor, as urgent as the curtain for refugees, as impressive as Temple structures today, as dramatic as self-interest in fighting common anti-Semitic enemies, or as appealing to convenience and comfort as ornaments of recreational Judaism. Small compared to all else.
**Yet without them—without Jewish education and the study of Torah—a Jewish community cannot exist. There is no way of relating one part to the next. There is no guarantee of survival as Jews. It is the mortar that holds the structure together.**
**Pekudei 1957**
**Without hooks of Jewish education, there is no continuity between all urgent and vital phases of the work of the entire Jewish community. There can be no Mishkan if there is no Jewish school—supported by the same *shkalim* that go to advance the other causes represented in the Mishkan.**
Now friends can begin to understand the Midrash, and begin to appreciate the urgency with which Tradition painted *l’affaire vavim*, why Moses was so overwrought about this special appropriation of hooks. The situation is not really ancient. It is almost completely contemporary.
Moses had overlooked the fact of his use of community funds, of *shkalim*, for *vavim*. Suddenly, he began to worry. He was challenged on it by those whose interests included everything from altar to pillar to ark to ornaments—from Israel to defense work to refugees to temples to centers. Everything but the small hooks, the little given to Jewish education.
He was worried they’d say: *Mosheh natalan*—he’s prejudiced, selfish, pursuing his own narrow interests; that’s why he took off 1,775 *shkalim* for hooks when they should go for a better altar, stronger pillars, or fancier ornaments.
And he began to think: what will I tell them? Perhaps they are right—so many urgent matters, how do I have the right to spend so many *shkalim* on study of Torah?
Then amidst his doubts and worries, God suddenly enlightened him—showed him that Jewish education was deserving of 1,775 *shkalim*, cut of much more. Pointed to *vavim*—hooks. "See, Moses, that's what Jewish education is—a hook, a link in the chain without which all else is doomed."
And so Moses was assuaged. He turned to his people and explained to them the function of education and its great value and worthiness. And had Moses been living today, he would have said it in this way:
"Look, friends, you are giving so many *shkalim* for the Mishkan, for the complete Jewish community. True: we must have the Ark or synagogues—without them we are nothing. The altar is of greatest urgency—Israel must survive as a State. Same for pillars (vs. anti-Semitism), and curtains (refugees), and ornaments. But the Jewish school, undramatic though it may seem, is the hook. It links past and present—parent and child… between Israel and Diaspora."
(Wednesday someone asked Hyman: "Will my children love Israel as I do?" Answer: "No, if there is no Jewish education where they will learn what *Eretz Yisrael* has always meant to us.")
Without these hooks, your ornaments become secularized—no relation to the rest of the Mishkan, no matter how much talk about “Jewish content.” Without *vavim*, the synagogue is isolated from the life of its people; soon none understand what it has to say.
**Without *vavim*, Jewish education and schools—your whole Mishkan will collapse, and all you have put into it will have been in vain.**
Stop this pittance of a mere 1,775 *shkalim* for education, and you are thoughtless as a Jewish community. Your Mishkan—your total community—is then emptied of continuity, will surely fall apart no matter how many *shkalim* you put into it.
When Moses had done that, brought that message to the people at large and not only to those of special and narrow interests, *nispaisu kol Yisrael al melechet haMishkan*—all Jews, no matter what their own particular preferences, rallied to the Mishkan. It brought *piyus*—peace, unity—to the entire community. Without that message and its acceptance, Moses discovered, there could be neither a Mishkan nor *piyus*, neither a functioning, thriving community nor peace and fellowship.
**Pekudei 1957**
Friends, in appealing to you to recall this teaching of Moses as to the importance of the *vavim*—I am not being parochial and exclusivist. Every activity of the total Jewish community deserves community support, none excluded.
It is unnecessary for me to affirm the importance of the synagogue. From this pulpit we have more than once pleaded the cause of Israel as a state and the people of Israel who are being driven from their homes. All activities of the community are important—some more so, some less.
But what I do say is this: **do not omit Jewish education**. You are the community. Make sure that you understand the importance of Jewish schools as links in the chain of centuries, and hooks that tie American Jewry to Israel, and the various agencies in the USA and Springfield to each other.
Do not overlook the *vavim* in appropriating your *shkalim* merely because they sound less dramatic, for to do so is no less than sinful. Let us resist the tendency to donate only on a crisis basis… only to the most glamorous and to the biggest. (Story: R. Elimelech and Mezritcher in *Fun di Chassidisher Otzros*, p. 264.)
This Sabbath is a double occasion—because in the regular Torah reading we learn of the Mishkan, representing the Jewish community, and the special *Parshat Shekalim*, the commandment to give. In recalling these matters, let us remember too the tradition of how God instructed Moses in the giving of *shkalim*.
He showed Moses *matbe’a shel eish*—a shekel made of fire—and said, *ka-zeh yitnu*... Charity is sometimes playing with fire, because it can be, like fire, either creative or destructive. What determines the outcome is **how** we give. Let us obey the *ka-zeh yitnu*—give in God’s way, as He would want us to, and then our giving will be effective, our Mishkan strong and durable, and our work—blessed.