Today we will continue with Torah and Tea for the double portion of Vayakhel-Pekudei. In addition, this is also the completion of Sefer Shemot, the second book of the Torah. We will try to cover part of the Rebbe’s sichos on Vayakhel-Pekudei in Volume 16 and also a part in Volume 21.
The very name Vayakhel means more than simply gathering people into one place. There are other Hebrew words that can mean gathering or collecting, such as bringing people together physically. But Vayakhel means that the many individuals become a kahal, a true community. It is not just that many people are standing in one room. Rather, they become a new entity, a ציבור, a community.
This introduces a very important question in life: the relationship between the individual and the community. In politics, society, and certainly in Torah, we often face the question of how the individual relates to the larger whole.
The Rebbe explains this through the vessels of the Mishkan. Before the vessels were made part of the Mishkan, they had no actual sanctity yet. They were only vessels. But once they became part of the Mishkan, they became holy. And even when the Mishkan was later dismantled and traveled from place to place, the vessels retained the sanctity they had gained by having been part of the Mishkan.
So there are really three stages. First, the vessels exist as individual objects without sanctity. Then they are incorporated into the Mishkan and become part of the larger holy whole. And afterward, even when separated again in practice, they permanently retain the holiness they gained through becoming part of that whole.
The Rebbe says the same is true regarding the Jewish people. On the one hand, every individual Jew is of immense value. The Mishnah teaches that Adam was created alone to show that every single person is considered like an entire world. If one person alone is so significant that Hashem would create the world for him, then each individual has extraordinary worth.
But at the same time, all Jews together form a kahal, one united people. I like to compare it to the story of the person on a boat who starts drilling a hole under his own seat. The captain protests, “What are you doing? The boat will sink!” And the man says, “But this is my place. I bought it. I can do what I want with it.” The answer, of course, is that we are all in the same boat. Even if that seat is yours, what you do there affects everyone else.
So the Jewish people are both: each person is a whole world, yet each person is also part of a greater communal reality.
The first step in serving Hashem is to put aside one’s own separate self and begin by identifying with the community. That is why, before davening, there is the custom to say: “Hareini mekabel alai mitzvat asei shel ve’ahavta l’rei’acha kamocha.” Before praying, one first accepts upon oneself the mitzvah of loving another Jew. Even though one is about to pray as an individual, the first move is to include oneself within the כלל.
That is also why the language of the prayers is usually in the plural. We do not usually say “grant me wisdom,” but “grant us wisdom.” Even when a person is asking for himself, he asks within the framework of the ציבור.
The same applies in a Misheberach. We ask that the person be healed among all the sick of Israel. We do not isolate the person from the ציבור. When one includes himself among the community, he draws from the merit and strength of the many.
This is also the meaning of the verse, “B’toch ami anochi yoshevet” — “I dwell among my people.” The woman in the story did not want to stand out and be elevated above everyone else. She wanted to remain within her people. There is blessing in being part of the כלל.
But that does not mean losing individuality. On the contrary, after a person first places himself within the community, he can then draw strength from that community to express his own unique gifts more fully. The community does not destroy individuality. It strengthens it.
It is like an orchestra. A symphony is made of many instruments. Each one has its own unique sound and role. Yet precisely by being part of the whole, each instrument becomes more meaningful and more powerful. So too, every individual Jew gains strength in his own personal avodah by being part of the כלל.
The same idea can be seen in a Sefer Torah. A Torah scroll consists of many individual letters. If even one letter is missing, or one letter touches another, the Torah is not kosher. Every individual letter matters. Each one must be fully distinct, surrounded by parchment, and legible as itself. And yet all those individual letters together make one Torah.
That is why the Rebbe encouraged people to have a share in a Sefer Torah. Every Jewish soul has its own letter and place in Torah, and by participating in a Sefer Torah one connects both to one’s unique place and to the greater whole of the Jewish people.
So this is one central lesson of Vayakhel. The parsha speaks about gathering everyone together, but it also goes through all the details of the individual vessels of the Mishkan. The message is that the whole is made up of individual parts, and once those parts join the whole, they are elevated by it and permanently changed by it.
The second sicha touches on a fascinating Rashi. The Torah describes the women who were wise-hearted and who worked with the goats’ hair and wool for the Mishkan. Rashi explains that they did something very special: they spun the goats’ hair while it was still on the goats. Then they brought the goats themselves, and only afterward was the hair cut off.
The Rebbe asks: why do it that way? It seems much simpler to shear the goats first and then spin the hair. Why spin it on the animal itself? And it must have been done quickly, because otherwise it would be painful for the animal.
The Rebbe explains that this teaches a very deep principle. When one brings something to the Mishkan, there are different levels from which the gift can come. Something can come from the level of the inanimate, from the growing world, or from the living. If you bring already-cut wool, you are essentially bringing an inanimate item. But if the spinning is done while the hair is still attached to the animal, then the contribution is being brought from the level of the living. That is a higher kind of offering.
So the women specifically brought their contribution from a more elevated source. Their wisdom was not just technical skill. It was spiritual refinement: they wanted their gift to come from as high and alive a level as possible.
This is a beautiful lesson in how to serve Hashem. We should not only ask whether we are giving, but also from what level we are giving. Are we giving something cold and detached, or are we giving something living, connected, and full of vitality?
Summary
The first part of the class explains that Vayakhel means transforming many individuals into one true community, while still preserving the unique holiness and role of each person. The second part teaches that the women’s spinning of the goats’ hair on the animals themselves reflects a deeper way of serving Hashem: to offer not only something useful, but something drawn from a higher, living level of holiness.