Our money should be used to strengthen our connection with Hashem and with each other

“This they should give, everyone who goes through the counting: half a shekel according to the holy shekel….” (Shemos 30:1)

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hazal say that the machatzis hashekel served as atonement for the Eigel Hazahav. How does donating such a relatively small amount of money atone for such a huge sin as the Eigel Hazahav?

A key part of the sin of the Eigel Hazahav was the fact that Bnei Yisrael kept throwing in all of their valuables (jewelry, gold, silver, etc.) for a worthless cause. Rashi explains that Aharon didn’t believe they’d actually do that, and thought he’d be able to delay the entire process if he suggested they pour their own wealth into the fire. The fact that they did so shows how dedicated they were to the cause. (Yitzchak Szyf, Torah.org)

It was a freezing Yerushalayim night, the sky an inky black, as I drove along. Suddenly the heavens opened, and sheets of water poured down, obliterating visibility. Thunder roared; lighting cracked. I shivered. It wasn’t the best setting to be driving to a levayah.

But an old friend of mine was flying in for her father’s kevurah, and although I hadn’t seen her for many years, nor had I known her father, I wanted to be there for her. Little did I know that I would be the one gaining more.

The best atonement for such a sin is to use our money properly, in our avodas Hashem. People spend money on things they’re most passionate about. The donation of the half-shekel for the purpose of purchasing public offerings in the Mishkan/Beis Hamikdash clearly signifies the importance of properly using one’s wealth for valuable causes.

Reb Ephraim, my friend’s late father, was born in Berlin and saw Hitler’s troops marching down the streets of his city. At age seven, he and his family escaped to the US, leaving behind a family business, comfort, and security. They made it out alive, but life as immigrants wasn’t easy. Parnassah was tight because his father refused to work on Shabbos. As Ephraim grew older, he helped the family’s finances by driving an ice cream truck. Still, he never had his own route, as he, too, refused to work on Shabbos.

Ephraim was one of the few boys in his hometown to make it to Rav Aharon Kotler to learn in Lakewood. Torah was his lifeline, his focus that would drive him for the rest of his life.

As time went on, Reb Ephraim was matzliach in parnassah, becoming a huge baal chesed and baal tzedakah. He always made those coming to request a donation feel comfortable, perhaps because he remembered how it felt to be without. He respected every request, sharing his wealth with so many others.

We, too, must take note, that instead of spilling our wealth on foolishness as they did with the Eigel Hazahav, our money should be used to strengthen our connection with Hashem and with each other.

One of the hespedim really made an impression on me.

Many years ago, Reb Ephraim was approached by members of the community who wanted to build a new mikveh in the neighborhood. Their request: $25,000. Reb Ephraim agreed to the venture, but stipulated he’d like to see the projected plans and blueprints before paying his pledge.

Seven months later, the committee returned with all the necessary paperwork. Reb Ephraim read them over approvingly. He took out his checkbook and wrote out a check for $25,885.62. Confused, the committee members reminded him that his initial pledge had been for $25,000. Why the extra money?

Reb Ephraim explained. “When you came to me, and I accepted to donate, I took that $25,000 out of my account, and placed it in a special account for when you would be ready. The $885.62 is the interest you accrued in the seven months since you first came here.”

We all give tzedakah. Some prefer causes, others individuals. Yet to Reb Ephraim, tzedakah money was not simply a surplus to be given from time to time. To him, it was a business in itself, to be taken as seriously as his own accounts.

At times it seems that our society is so divided between the haves and have-nots. Yet here was a have, who realized he had-not. It was all Hashem’s business.

L’illui nishmas Reb Ephraim ben Reb Yechiel

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 933)