Hashem tells Moshe to conduct a census by counting each silver half-shekel donated by all men age twenty and over. Moshe is commanded to make a copper laver for the Mishkan. The women donate the necessary metal. The formula of the anointing oil is specified, and Hashem instructs Moshe to use this oil only for dedicating the Mishkan, its vessels and for anointing Aharon and his sons. G-d selects Betzalel and Oholiav as master craftsmen for the Mishkan and its vessels.

The Jewish People are commanded to keep the Shabbat, an eternal sign that G-d made the world. Moshe receives the two Tablets of Testimony on which are written the Ten Commandments.

The mixed multitude who left Egypt with the Jewish People panic when Moshe's descent seems delayed, and they force Aharon to make a golden calf for them to worship. Aharon stalls, trying to delay them. Hashem tells Moshe to return to the people immediately, threatening to destroy everyone and build a new nation from Moshe. When Moshe sees the camp of idol-worship, he smashes the Tablets and destroys the golden calf. The sons of Levi volunteer to punish the transgressors, executing 3,000 men.

Moshe ascends the mountain again, to pray for forgiveness for the people; Hashem accepts his prayer, but tells Moshe that every future punishment of the Jewish People will include some small amount of retribution for the sin of the golden calf. Moshe sets up the Mishkan and G-d's clouds of glory return. Moshe asks Hashem to show him the rules by which he conducts the world but is granted only a small portion of this request. Hashem tells Moshe to hew new Tablets and reveals the text of the prayer that will invoke Divine mercy.

Idol worship, intermarriage and the combination of milk and meat are prohibited. The laws of Pesach, the first-born, the first-fruits, Shabbat, Shavuot and Succot are taught. When Moshe descends with the second set of Tablets, his face is luminous as a result of contact with the Divine.

PARSHA INSIGHTS

A Rose by Any Other Name

“And you shall take for yourself the finest spices: pure myrrh…” (30:23)

I remember opening a book quite recently and, just from the scent, being instantly transported back to my days in kindergarten.

Of the five human senses, the sense of smell is the most evocative, and the most intangible. There's something about fragrance which is above the other senses, more refined, more abstract. And in point of fact, Seforim (Bnei Yissaschar etc.) say that the sense of smell stayed in its pristine state because it was never polluted by the sin of Adam HaRishon, the first man.

When describing the forbidden fruit, the Torah says (Bereishit 3:6): “וַתֵּרֶא הָאִשָּׁה…” – Chava, Eve, saw that it was good; “וְכִי טוֹב הָעֵץ לְמַאֲכָל” – that the fruit was good for eating; “וְכִי תַאֲוָה הוּא לָעֵינַיִם” – that it was desirable to the eyes; all the senses, including the sense of hearing, appear there in the verses…but the sense of smell? The Torah never mentions that it smelled good. The sense of smell was never an accessory to that sin and thus the sense of smell was never damaged – the sense of fragrance that we have today is as strong and untainted as it was in the beginning.

When we eat a fruit for the first time in its season, we say a blessing called Shehechyanu, thanking Hashem for bringing us once again to a time where we can see and eat that particular fruit. We don’t say Shehechiyanu, however, when we re-experience a smell. Smell is something that the soul enjoys, not the body. Because smell was never diminished by the sin of Adam, it exists - as the soul does - above time; smell does not undergo cyclical renewal. It remains in its pristine spiritual state. Shehechiyanu marks renewal after absence — but fragrance never truly “fell,” so there is no return to celebrate.

The Gemara in Chullin 139b asks: “המן מן התורה מנין?” Where is Haman hinted to in the Torah? And it answers:
“המןהעץ אשר צויתיך לבלתי אכל ממנו אכלת-- Did you eat from the tree which I commanded you not to eat from?” The word, ‘המן- Ha’min’ – meaning ‘from’ - has the same letters as, and can be read as, ‘Haman.’ Haman embodied that power of the primeval tempter, and thus it was he, like the primordial Snake in the Garden, who advised Achashverosh to throw an enormous banquet where some of the Jews in attendance were tempted to commit immorality (Esther Rabbah 7:13).

All the other festivals of the Jewish calendar, with the exception of Purim, are named after redemption, after salvation: “Pesach” means to skip over - Hashem passed over the houses of the Jewish people in Egypt and spared their firstborn from death. “Chag Hamatzot” - the Torah’s name for Pesach - reminds us of the matzah which symbolizes our hasty flight from slavery to redemption. “Sukkot” celebrates miracles and salvation – recalling the sukka in the desert that gave us supernatural protection from the elements. And “Shavuot”, which literally means “weeks”, commemorates our seven weeks’ journey of anticipation to Sinai where we received the Torah, our ultimate freedom.

Purim is different.

‘Purim’ comes from the Persian word ‘pur,’ which means a ‘lot’. Haman cast lots to divine the most propitious time to eradicate the Jews. The lot fell on the month of Adar, the month in which Moshe died. So why do we name the festival of Purim after Haman’s attempted genocide? Of all names, why is that the name of this festival?

There's a mystical concept that the months of the Jewish year correspond to parts of the face: Tishrei corresponds to the skull, Marcheshvan and Kislev are the two ears, Tevet and Shevat are the eyes, and Adar, the month of Purim, represents the nose, the sense of smell.

Haman, the embodiment of the primeval serpent, made a mistake when he chose the month of Adar. He didn’t realize that Adar represented the hidden power of the sense of smell which was never compromised by the sin of Adam and Chava.

That ‘pur’ - the choice of the month of Adar- was his ruin and our success; the pristine power of Adar is what protected the Jewish People from his genocidal plans.