March 23, 2025|כ"ג אדר ה' אלפים תשפ"ה Hearts Ablaze: Finding Passion and Meaning in Challenging Times By Rabbi Jonathan Muskat

Our hearts go out to our brothers and sisters in Israel, who are preparing to return to Gaza to complete the mission of eradicating Hamas. Is this the right course of action? Should Israel instead focus on negotiating for the release of the hostages as a priority, returning to Gaza to dismantle Hamas only after securing their freedom? These are heart-wrenching questions, as 24 hostages remain trapped in dungeons in Gaza alongside the remains of 35 deceased individuals. We fervently hope and pray that God will guide our brothers and sisters to achieve what seems nearly impossible: freeing the hostages and eliminating Hamas from Gaza.

As I reflect on the brave soldiers heading back into battle, I think of both the conscripts—those Israelis legally obligated to serve in the army—and individuals like Elisha Lowenstern and Avi Goldberg, zichronam livracha, who were exempt from service but volunteered nonetheless. Both Elisha and Avi were exempt due to the size of their families, yet they chose to serve, tragically losing their lives in battle. They are among the many heroes who have willingly risked their lives for Medinat Yisrael. Within the army itself, even when soldiers have the option of serving in combat or non-combat roles, religious Zionists are disproportionately represented in combat units compared to their percentage of the general Israeli population. They make up approximately 40% of the IDF’s junior officer corps, and in elite combat units, they constitute 30-50% of the soldiers, despite representing only 10-15% of the population. What is it that inspires such passion, and how can we recreate this passion in our own lives?

We find descriptions of this kind of passion in this week’s parsha, with a very successful fundraising campaign. Moshe descends from the mountain with the second set of luchot and gathers the people to announce an ambitious project—the building of the mishkan. He makes it clear that participation is voluntary: “Kol nediv libo yevi’eha et terumat Hashem”—anyone with a generous heart should bring a donation for God. Moshe lists the materials needed, and after he finishes, the Torah tells us that everyone leaves and then returns:

וַיָּבֹ֕אוּ כָּל־אִ֖ישׁ אֲשֶׁר־נְשָׂא֣וֹ לִבּ֑וֹ וְכֹ֡ל אֲשֶׁר֩ נָדְבָ֨ה רוּח֜וֹ אֹת֗וֹ הֵ֠בִיאוּ אֶת־תְּרוּמַ֨ת יְקֹוָ֜ק לִמְלֶ֨אכֶת אֹ֤הֶל מוֹעֵד֙ וּלְכָל־עֲבֹ֣דָת֔וֹ וּלְבִגְדֵ֖י הַקֹּֽדֶשׁ.

 “And everyone whose heart carried him and everyone whose spirit moved him came, bringing donations for God for the work of the mishkan and its service and the holy garments.”

There were two groups of people: “asher nesa’o libo”—those whose hearts carried them, and “asher nadva rucho”—those whose spirits moved them. The Ramban explains that the “nesa’o libo” group were those with God-given abilities to construct the mishkan, while the “nadva rucho” group were the donors. The Or Chaim Hakadosh and the Yalkut Yehuda, however, suggest that both groups were donors. According to the Or Chaim Hakadosh, the “nadva rucho” donors gave what they had, while the “nesa’o libo” donors gave beyond their means, embodying extraordinary generosity. The Yalkut Yehuda offers another perspective: the “nadva rucho” group overcame the natural reluctance to part with money, while the “nesa’o libo” group felt giving was second nature—it came effortlessly to them.

These two groups brought all the materials needed until Moshe announced, “Enough!”—a rare phenomenon in fundraising. Why was this campaign so successful? Perhaps because it was led by Moshe Rabbeinu, and whenever the gadol hador asks for donations, you just give. 

My son-in-law told me a story of when Rav Moshe Feinstein attended a wedding and someone mistook him for a tzedakah collector so the person gave him a few dollars. Now Rav Moshe didn’t want the guy to feel bad and tell him that he was Rav Moshe Feinstein and was a guest of the wedding party, so he didn’t tell the person that he was a guest. Instead, he went around collecting more money from other people so that this person shouldn’t feel bad. The problem was that other people knew who Rav Moshe Feinstein was so when Rav Moshe Feinstein approached them, instead of giving a few dollars, they gave him significant sums of money and Rav Moshe made thousands of dollars that day at that wedding. So maybe this is why Moshe was so successful at his fundraising appeal – because it was Moshe Rabbenu who was making the appeal. Maybe. But there’s another reason: Moshe understood the importance of creating a sense of unity and purpose.

Before launching the campaign, Moshe gathered the entire nation: “Vayakhel Moshe et kol adat Bnei Yisrael.” The Rashbam explains that this assembly was to collect a half-shekel from every individual—a symbolic act emphasizing that everyone, rich or poor, was equally valued. This created a shared sense of belonging. Moshe then taught them about Shabbat, the great equalizer, reminding everyone of their common bond. On Shabbat, material differences fade; we come together, leaving behind the stresses and inequalities of the workweek. You have a fancy car and I don’t – doesn’t matter on Shabbat. You have a fancy TV and I don’t – doesn’t matter on Shabbat. You don’t have to work so hard during the week because you are financially comfortable but I have to work very hard – doesn’t matter on Shabbat. None of us work – except, of course, if you’re the rabbi. These acts—uniting the people and emphasizing equality—laid the foundation for the passionate generosity that followed.

When we look at Israel today, with its internal divisions over issues like judicial reform, firing the head of the Shin Bet and the pro-Bibi anti-Bibi movements, it can be disheartening. Yet, as Rachel Sharansky, daughter of Natan Sharansky, recently wrote in a blog, we should focus on the values that unite us rather than the differences that divide us. We all share the same basic values. We just disagree, and disagree passionately, about how to achieve these values. These shared values are what inspire individuals like Elisha Lowenstern and Avi Goldberg, zichronam livracha, to make profound sacrifices. These shared values are what inspire so many religious zionist Jews to decide to risk their lives in combat roles in the army. They found a sense of belonging in their nation, their faith, and their people—a connection rooted in shared purpose and values.

For me, this idea resonates deeply. I am doubly blessed to belong to a vibrant shul community and a meaningful school community where I teach. These connections fuel my passion and inspire me to give my all. If we want to live lives of “nesa’o libo”—lives of passion, generosity, and commitment—we must find our “vayakhel”—a community where we belong, where we are valued, and where we share a common mission. Whether it’s your shul, your school, or your connection to Eretz Yisrael, find your community where you feel that sense of belonging. Invest in it. Let it inspire you. Living a life of “nesa’o libo” can be so enriching, inspiring and fulfilling. All we need to do is begin with “vayakhel.”