Princes Procrastination

Naaleh_logo Shiur provided courtesy of Naaleh.com

Adapted by Channie Koplowitz Stein

Over the last few parshiot we have been studying the building of the Mishkan, its structure, its vessels and materials. Interestingly, even though neither Hashem nor Moshe demanded the necessary materials, Bnei Yisroel willingly and generously donated everything that was necessary for the construction within two days' time. The donations were so generous that Moshe had to call a halt to continued collection. Completing the list of all the materials, the Torah writes that the נשאם /nesi'im, leaders brought the various stones necessary for the Ephod and Breastplate of the High Priest's clothing. However, the word nesi'im is written in truncated form. It is missing the two "yuds." As a general rule, when the Torah purposely deletes a letter or letters, the usual message is that indeed something was missing in the idea being recorded. Therefore, our Sages ask in what way were these leaders deficient that they are not called by their "full" titles?

Rashi, our premier commentator, writes that the leaders had erred. Instead of enthusiastically rushing to donate, they expected a shortfall in the donations of Bnei Yisroel. When that happened, they would immediately fill in whatever was still needed. But they underestimated the generosity and passion of Bnei Yisroel, and there was nothing left to give. Because of this delay, the princes were unable to donate any materials to the actual construction of the Mishkan. However, they did learn from this lapse, and when the time came to dedicate the Mishkan, they came immediately, bringing their generous contributions and offerings for the dedication.

This is a subtle reminder to us, writes Rabbi Reiss in Meirosh Tzurim, that when an opportunity for a mitzvah comes our way, we should do it immediately, for the opportunity may pass and we will be left wanting.

Rabbi Munk points to a medrash that translates nesi'im as clouds [things high over]. According to the medrash, when the clouds came to drop the daily manna to the people, they rained down precious stones together with the heavenly food. Having nothing left to give, the leaders gathered these stones and brought them to Moshe for use in the priestly garments.

We may ask, suggests the Sheure Daas, what is the significance of writing their titles in the Torah without these "yuds?" And why specifically this letter? But what we see here as a white parchment scroll with black letters is the physical manifestation of the Torah scroll on high, of black fire on white fire, every letter filled with its own fiery energy. Every letter recorded or omitted here is also recorded or omitted on the eternal scroll in heaven. A missing letter puts us one step back in achieving the goal the Torah sets for the world. The nesi'im understood their failure, they did teshuvah and were the first to rush to bring the offerings at the dedication. Then Hashem rewarded them, dedicating a day for each to bring his offering and recording each leader with his full name and offering even though the offerings were all identical.

For an insight into what constitutes great leadership, we need look no further than to the works of Rav Moshe Feinstein zt"l, himself a great leader. Rabbi Feinstein notes that a great leader must believe in his people so fully that he inspires them with confidence and helps them in achieving their potential. [Years ago a study in a school provided teachers with the rosters of their incoming classes. Some class rosters described their students as above average, while other groups were described as below average. In fact, both groups were equally average. At the end of the year, each class achieved according to their description, according to the teacher's expectation. What a lesson in raising our children as well. CKS] What these leaders lacked was an ayin tovah/a positive eye. They negatively misjudged Bnei Yisroel and were punished for it, just as Moshe had been "punished" with the sign of his leprous hand for stating the Bnei Yisroel would not believe him. Bnei Yisroel are known for their faith and their generous spirit, continues Rabbi Feinstein. Therefore, the appropriate letter to be missing was the yud, the letter that begins both the name of Yisroel and the Name of God.

Alternately, writes Omek Haparshah, these princes felt their honor was slighted. As leaders, they felt they should have been approached first with the opportunity to donate before the opportunity was presented to the general public. Expecting a shortfall, they would rise up to save the day with their donations. But Hashem wanted all Bnei Yisroel to have a share in building the Mishkan. The princes' arrogance cost them, and they lost the smallest, most humble yet most significant letter from their title. Similarly, each one of us becomes a leader at times, whether as a parent, in a job, among friends, or in a community. The most successful leaders are those who value everyone, who listen to each idea with respect, who instill confidence by lifting others up.

When you love another, especially when you love Hashem, you don't make calculations, writes Rav Scheinerman in Ohel Moshe. You immediately offer, and then you can add, "I can give/lend you more. Let me know if you need it." [This approach to someone in need is less likely to overwhelm or embarrass a fellow human being going through hard times. CKS] When the opportunity to do a mitzvah comes your way, grab it immediately. Who knows if the opportunity will remain or arise again. Delay, no matter how reasonable, implies procrastination, rationalization, excuses, and at least a minimal unwillingness to actually do the mitzvah [or favor/job].

But, Rabbi Ochion points out, the individual never realizes that his hesitancy derives from laziness. Because laziness translates into lost time, these leaders lost a letter in eternity. We are also prone to laziness. How many letters of our personal parchments, of our personal eternities are we forfeiting regularly? Whenever we skip doing a mitzvah, often because we don't recognize the opportunity, or we do it with less than optimum focus, we are yielding to laziness.

And what is the source of laziness? Apathy and lack of sensitivity. These lead a person away from contemplation, away from thinking of long term consequences. They deprive him of the will that is necessary for success, writes Rabbi Shmulevitz. The artisans of the Mishkan were all former slaves. They had neither training nor experience in these crafts. Yet, because their hearts were filled with desire, Hashem Himself gave them the skills necessary to succeed. And we cannot wait for another opportunity. We may, in fact, have a later opportunity to perform this mitzvah, but the special energy of the earlier moment will be lost. If we missed the 4:0 o'clock train, we may still make the 5:00 o'clock train, but an hour of opportunity, whether in work or in social bonding, etc. would have been lost.

Most people are of the mindset that inaction is not problematic. After all, they reason, they are doing nothing wrong. Nothing could be further from the truth, writes R. Reuven Fink in an essay found in Step by Step. Each of us was born to a unique mission that only we can accomplish and only at this time. Yet we don't realize our own potential for greatness, we lack confidence in our abilities, and so we make excuses not to act. As the Ramcha"l writes in Mesillat Yeshorim, When our neshamah goes up to heaven, we will see all the opportunities we missed or ignored. If, with this knowledge, we had just another 24 hours to return and rectify the situation, we would be very busy indeed. Can we inject some of that urgency into our daily life? In this vein, writes Vayovinu Bamikra, the princes did nothing wrong. But there was regret for the missed opportunity of bringing from their own possessions. Instead, they gathered the stones that fell from the clouds with the manna and brought them to be used in the priestly garments. 

Since we each have a personalized mission, writes Rabbi Dovid Hofstedtar we ask Hashem to help us find our personal portion and connection to Torah, to help us fulfill our unique mission. When Bnei Yisroel brought the materials, each one brought what he felt connected to. The medrash attests to this by telling us that Bezalel understood how every piece of fabric or piece of gold or silver was destined to be used, for which vessel or furnishing it was meant. Each person contributed through his personal sense of connection. Each had a personal voice in the construction of the Mishkan. The point of these donations was not raising money and materials. That could be accomplished by anyone. What Hashem wanted was to give from the heart. The princes did not find their personal connection, and were ready to give anything, but not from the heart. This they rectified by their personal offering at the dedication.

The nesi'im thought their donations to fill in a shortfall would nosei/carry the entire project. However, with their procrastination, they themselves were being carried through the donations of Bnei Yisroel. That is why specifically the yud of carry is missing from their title, suggests Rabbi Frand.

 Actually, writes Rabbi Sorotskin citing the Gri"z, All the materials for the Mishkan had already been donated when the princes realized there was nothing left to give. Hashem created a new category not part of the initial plans for the priestly garments so that the princes could bring these stones, stones which they did not actually own. The purpose of a tzedakah project goes beyond raising money. It is meant to make you a part of it, to connect to the cause.

Rabbi Eisenberger in Mesillot Bilvovom quoting the Ketav Sofer, does not fault the character of the princes, but rather their reasoning. It is accepted that the one who puts the finishing touch on a project is credited with its completion. The leaders wanted to put the "finishing" touch on the Mishkan project by donating the final requirements. When they saw there was nothing left to contribute, they cried out to Hashem in anguish to give them another opportunity. Then Hashem rained down these precious stones, writes R, Tzadok Hacohen, so that they too could contribute.

The princes were at fault for waiting until tomorrow, without participating in the current mitzvah. As we know, tomorrow can become many tomorrows, become whenever I get to it, and finally become never.

We must never doubt ourselves when we attempt to do a mitzvah. Even when it seems impossible, if we sincerely cry out for Hashem's help, Hashem will send the salvation. From the dark clouds of despair, the earth will receive the rain. The heavens are open for our prayers. We need the desire to contribute, to overcome challenges, and do our part. The contributions to the Mishkan and the work to complete it remind us that we each have a personal and unique talent or gift that only we can contribute to the world. Let us not fall short. Let us pray for Hashem's guidance and help to fulfill our destiny.