| From Dunkin to Divine: What We Really Make “And they brought the Mishkan to Moses…”After the construction of the Mishkan (Tabernacle) was complete, the people brought all its components to Moses. He then stood up the walls and erected the structure. But there’s a striking Midrash, quoted by Rashi, that raises a question: The materials were too heavy for anyone to lift—including Moses. G-d instructed him, “Go through the motions, as if you’re lifting them, and they will stand on their own.” Yet just a few verses later, the Torah tells us: “Moses erected the Mishkan” (40:18).How can we credit Moses with building it if he couldn’t physically raise it? This teaches us a profound truth about our role in the world. When a couple has a child, we say “they had a baby,” but they don’t actually create the baby. They didn’t design the 100 trillion neural connections in the brain, orchestrate the immune system, or write the code for cellular development. They merely initiated a process that G-d set in motion. The same is true for a farmer growing crops or an entrepreneur building a business. We use pre-existing systems, laws of nature, and tools—none of which we created—to produce results. Our role is to act within the framework that already exists. Imagine a worker at Dunkin Donuts who brings home fresh donuts every day. His kids proudly tell their classmates, “My dad makes donuts!” But does he really? He didn’t invent the recipe, design the conveyor ovens, or even know the difference between convection and radiant heat. He’s simply part of a larger system. The lesson? Don’t mistake using a system for creating one. The discovery or mastery of something doesn’t mean we authored it. Moses understood this. He didn’t pretend the Mishkan stood because of his own strength. He was following instructions, doing his part in the process G-d had already put in place. And G-d said: “Do your part—and I’ll take care of the rest.” This is a principle we live with every day. Parents raise children with care and devotion—but the outcome is never guaranteed. We all know stories of negligent parents with incredible children, and committed, thoughtful parents who are heartbroken by their children’s choices. The mitzvah is to invest, not to control the outcome. Even our spiritual ancestors, Abraham and Sara, were not held responsible for Yishmael’s path. Nor were Isaac and Rebecca accountable for Esau. What matters is what they did, not what ultimately happened. The Mishkan’s construction, and the way the Torah describes it, reminds us: our job is to show up, to act, and to trust that the results are in G-d’s hands. This perspective can keep us grounded in moments of success and comforted in times of struggle. It reminds us to stay humble when things go well—and not to despair when life throws us a curveball (or an emotional tsunami). Good Shabbos, (Sources: The Shmuz by Rabbi Ben Tzion Shafier, pp. 157–161; Twerski on Chumash, pp. 187–188) |
