This week is the first of a series of four special Shabbatot preceding Pesach (don't worry, that does not mean that Pesach is only four weeks away). It is Shabbat Shekalim when, in addition to reading parashah Pekudei, we read a special section from Ki Tissa detailing the half-shekel "tax" that each person was expected to contribute for the building of the Mishkan. The beauty of this "tax" is that it is shared equally among the people - regardless of personal circumstance, each person was expected to contribute the same amount (did an early tea-partier design this scheme?).

This equality of contribution is carried over into other rituals of Judaism. For a minyan, each man (or woman) is counted the same in meeting the quorum, each being of equal value in forming the whole. In our modern democracies, we have adopted this value of each person having an equal vote - a recognition that we all can make a contribution and that the whole is stronger because of the participation of the many.

Interestingly, although we all count, in Judaism it is the practice not to count people. When the census was taken in the Torah, it was the half-shekels that were counted, not the people who contributed them. Perhaps you have heard someone determining if there are enough for a minyan and saying "not one, not two, not three..." We attempt not to dehumanize and thus increase the value of each one.

In the delivery of social services, we are often asked how many we serve. While this may be an interesting statistic at times, the numbers do not tell us how well we are doing. We want to know more than how many, we want to know that we have improved the lives of those we serve. Of course we want to serve as many as possible, or all those in need, but we want to make sure that each person is equally valued as an individual and that we serve them individually so they can continue to be an important contributor to the whole. We not only want to collect that "half-shekel," but we want to ensure that everyone understands the value they have contributed.

From a very early age, I can remember placing a few coins in the blue and white tzedakah box at the start of each Hebrew School class as a contribution to Keren Ami. On most occasions, the money was collected for the Jewish National Fund for planting trees in Israel (a project of amazing success as anyone who has stood in the Judean Hills can attest as the forests around Jerusalem form their own "green line"). In many classes, we not only contributed the money, but discussed the meaning of "tzedakah" and the potential benefit to Israel from even our few coins. I can remember times when I felt badly because I forgot to bring my nickels and dimes, but I cannot recall any time when I felt that the money could be better spent elsewhere.

We often speak of "tzedakah" as a basic Jewish value and we recognize charitable giving as a cornerstone of our communities. The roots for the importance of tzedakah run very deep in Jewish text and experience. In this week's parashah, Va-yak-hel,the Israelites are asked to contribute for the building of the tabernacle, the Jewish people's first capital campaign. It was not mandatory to give, but "everyone whose heart so moves him shall bring them."( 35:4) The emphasis on a "freewill offering to the Lord" (35:29) is repeated, in different words, several times throughout these passages. Ultimately, the outpouring from the people was so great that Moses had to halt the collection; there was sufficient gold, silver, jewels, and other materials for the construction and outfitting of the sanctuary.

The generosity of the Israelites is even more amazing considering where they came from. These were the very same people who only recently had been slaves in Egypt. That they had any riches at all was only from what they had received from their Egyptian neighbors as they prepared for the Exodus. And yet, having come from nothing, with little to call their own, the people were still moved to give to the greater cause of celebrating their relationship with God. Their hearts encouraged them to build a community much as our hearts inspire us to strengthen our communities today through tzedakah, gemilut chasadim, and tikkun olam. These are certainly values worthy of sharing with our children, ensuring that they and our communities will be passed from generation to generation.

Shabbat Shalom.

Early this past Monday morning, I was sitting outside my room at Mishkenot Sha'ananim in Jerusalem, watching the sun rise over the wall of the Old City. It is an awesome and beautiful sight and it caused me to think about all of the generations before me who had witnessed a similar view. And it also made me think about those who had never had the opportunity to step foot in Jerusalem, like my parents and all of the preceding generations of my family, and how fortunate I was to be there at that moment. Fortunate personally to have the ability to travel and for my good fortune in living in a time when the State of Israel exists for me to visit and I could gaze out at the Old City without fear of an armed enemy. Never is there a stronger feeling of being connected to the Israelites as they make their way to the "Promised Land."

And yet, in this week's parashah, Ki Tissa, the Israelites do their best to keep from ever making it to Israel. Showing impatience and short-term memory loss, when Moses does not return immediately from receiving the Ten Commandments, the people threaten to revolt and Aaron instructs them on creating the golden calf. Poor judgment leads to violent reaction, and Moses in despair destroys the set of tablets and three thousand of the transgressors lose their lives. The story could have ended here. But, God gives the people and Moses another opportunity. Moses re-ascends the mountain, fasts for forty days and nights, and receives a second set of tablets which he brings to the people. Although more trials lie ahead, the journey is resumed and the promise of a home for the Jewish people will be realized.

In the depths of despair of this story, we see the possibility of redemption. It is not easy - there is much difficult work to be done in the journey. But, the potential to see the sun rise in Jerusalem is there for all of us, both spiritually and in reality. It is this potential that makes the work of our agencies so critical; for we bring to those we serve the possibility of redemption and the reality of their personal successes.

Enjoy a peaceful and restful Shabbat.

Demands on Leadership As I write this week, I am in Ashkelon, Israel, only six kilometers from Gaza, and, therefore, less than 100 miles from Egypt. I have just watched President Mubarak's speech in which he announced he is not leaving his position. The news is reporting great unrest in the square, with the likelihood that the crowd could get more aggressive in its demonstration. Some of the reporters on the scene are describing Mubarak as "delusional," that he does not appreciate or recognize the will of the people.

This week we continue our Torah reading in the book of Exodus. Although there is some debate as to the path of the Israelites on their journey to Israel, there is no disagreement that at this point of the reading; they are still in the Sinai Peninsula, in what is modern day Egypt. In Tetzavvah, we read about the ascension of Aaron and his sons to the priesthood. Although there is no democratic election, the rules and guidelines that God directs to the priests make it clear that they have very specific responsibilities so they can perform their duties as intermediaries between the people and God. The descriptions of the priestly vestments are not about decoration, but about an outward commitment to the task. We read in a later parashah what happens to Aaron's sons when they do not perform as expected. We have high expectations for our leaders, as we should for people who can affect so many lives.

There is great uneasiness in this part of the world about what will happen in Egypt. The people I have spoken to in Israel are concerned about who, and what, will replace President Mubarak, who has kept the peace with Israel for over thirty years. We know that Egypt has great challenges ahead. We pray that they will get the kind of leadership that responds to their concerns, brings peace to the region, and reflects the leadership principles contained in the Torah.

Have a peaceful Shabbat.