Parshas Vayakhel: Not Plan A - But Even Holier

Liluei Nishmas Ita bas Chanoch Aharon Bistritzky

The Torah is famously meticulous with its wording—every letter, even every crown atop a letter, holds meaning. Rabbi Akiva taught that entire mountains of laws can be derived from these small details. Given this, it is striking that the Torah devotes not just an extra word or verse but two entire parshiyos—Vayakhel and Pekudei—to what seems to be a repetition of the instructions for building the Mishkan, which we already learned about in Terumah and Tetzaveh.

In Terumah and Tetzaveh, Hashem commands the Mishkan’s construction, while in Vayakhel and Pekudei, we are told how the Jewish people carried out those instructions. But why does the Torah need over 200 verses to describe this? Could it not have simply stated, “And the Jewish people did as Hashem commanded”?

The answer to this question offers a profound and inspiring lesson.

The Torah teaches that there are two Jerusalems: "the Jerusalem above" in the spiritual realms and "the Jerusalem below" here on earth. Similarly, there are two Beis HaMikdash structures—one in the heavens and one in the physical world, with the earthly Beis HaMikdash serving as a reflection of its heavenly counterpart.

In the same way, the Mishkan described in Parshas Terumah and Tetzaveh represents the ideal, spiritual Mishkan as envisioned from above. The instructions for its construction were given to Moshe, a leader completely attuned to Hashem’s will, capturing the Mishkan in its most perfect and elevated form.

However, in Parshas Vayakhel and Pekudei, the Torah shifts focus to the "Mishkan below"—the actual physical structure built by human hands using earthly materials. This distinction reflects two aspects of our own lives. There is the original plan—how we feel on Rosh Hashanah, during an inspiring davening, or in moments of spiritual clarity—when we are deeply aligned with our higher purpose. And then there is the reality of how things actually turn out. The passion fades, our commitments weaken, and worldly distractions creep in.

The Torah subtly hints at this process by separating Terumah and Tetzaveh—the divine plan—from Vayakhel and Pekudei—the human execution—with one parsha: Ki Sisa, the story of the sin of the Golden Calf. In this gap, the tablets are shattered, we fall, and we must pick up the broken pieces. Only after this failure do we build the physical Mishkan of Vayakhel and Pekudei—not as an exact replica of the ideal plan, but as a reflection of what we can create after we've faltered.

Often, we lose track of where we're headed and wonder if we can ever truly get back on course. We assume Hashem is only found in "Plan A"—the perfect, idealized version of ourselves—and that once we've veered off track, we are beyond repair. But the Torah teaches otherwise. Vayakhel and Pekudei are not redundant; they exist to teach us that Hashem dwells not in the Mishkan of the heavens but in the imperfect, human Mishkan built from effort, struggle, and resilience.

Hashem does not seek perfection; He desires those who rise after they have fallen—once, twice, or even countless times—to build a dwelling for Him in the reality of their lives. The true Mishkan is not found in untouched ideals but in the physical, messy, and sometimes broken world where we continue to try, to rebuild, and to invite Hashem in.