Dvar Torah Vayakhel

In the spring of 2020, after two decades in education, I became the Middle School Principal at the Hannah Senesh School in Brooklyn – marking my transition from secular to Jewish day schools. One of the immediate and most notable differences between the two communities was the observance of Shabbat. In secular schools, work felt constant; the idea that I could tune out of email for a full 25 hours was almost inconceivable. And as the weeks and months passed, I became increasingly aware of the benefits of Shabbat on my well-being and the centered perspective I brought to my work when Shabbat was over. 

This revelatory experience brings me to Parashat Vayakhel, in which Moses assembles the Israelites to share with them that the seventh day is a holy day, a complete rest from work. I can vividly recall my first Shabbats at Hannah Senesh – the amazement I felt at being able to turn off my phone and turn my full attention to my family, and this is one reason I felt grateful to join the Leffell School community a year and a half ago. Also in this parashah, Moses commands the Israelites to bring gifts for God and to build a Mishkan. The Israelites respond with an over-enthusiasm of gifts, such that Moses commands them to cease and desist. This turn of events reminds us that all work – no matter how sacred or seemingly crucial or infinite – has limits and boundaries. And it made me think of the times that I have struggled to stop working and embrace rest, raising the question, “Why do we struggle to stop?” 

Recently, as my 50th birthday approaches, I’ve been seeking out advice to carry me through this milestone. One of the richest sources of wisdom I’ve found is the podcast Wiser Than Me, hosted by Julia Louis-Dreyfus, in which she interviews iconic older women. Though these women are very different from one another, a common thread emerges: as we age, we get better at setting boundaries and recognizing when enough is enough. Or, as Jane Fonda puts it in her conversation with Dreyfus, “No is a complete sentence.” In Vayakhel, when the Israelites finally stop their gift-giving, they are able to turn their focus to building the Mishkan. For Dreyfus’ icons, saying “no” brings liberation – the freedom to focus on the yes: the projects they want to pursue, the art they want to create, the relationships they want to nurture, and the space to create a personal sabbath.

 

The women of Wiser than Me have arrived at a hard-fought sense of clarity around their “nos,” and in Vayakhel, the Israelites have Moses as a guide. But what about the rest of us? How can we know when “no” is the right move? And how does this idea apply to our students? For example, when it comes to my own middle-school age sons, I often find myself urging them to “yes” – to try new things, to open their minds to new possibilities and perspectives, to give new people a chance, and to “give it their all” – whether on the soccer field or in their schoolwork. At the same time, we know that adolescents can be amazingly enthusiastic and passionate and, like the Israelites, they don’t always know when to stop. 

This tension between setting limits and encouraging exploration isn’t just a personal challenge – it’s also at the heart of working with adolescents. Reflecting on this brought to mind the book 10 to 25: The Science of Motivating Young People by David Yeager, which the Middle School leadership team, department chairs, and I are currently reading. Yeager describes what he calls the “adolescent predicament”: the tension young people feel between their desire for autonomy and the reality that they are often treated as dependent or incapable by adults. He explains that this conflict – combined with adolescents’ heightened sensitivity to status and their deep need for respect – can lead to resistance and a struggle to stay motivated in adult-led environments like school. In response, Yeager encourages parents and educators to adopt a “mentor mindset,” which means setting high expectations while offering empathetic support. He also introduces the concept of “wise feedback,” defined as blending constructive criticism with clear expressions of confidence in a young person’s potential.

In Vayakhel, the Israelites are in a similarly transitional period; they have left Egypt but haven’t yet fully matured into their independence. Though Moses did not have the benefit of Yaeger’s research, we see him cultivating a mentor mindset, providing wise feedback by setting high expectations (note the precise instructions for the Mishkan), offering encouragement and sometimes “tough love” – including his stern warning about the seriousness of Shabbat observance – in order to motivate the Israelites and help them learn to set appropriate boundaries. There are moments when Moses has to say no for the Israelites; he has to teach them what Jane Fonda and her peers have already learned how to do. 

As we head into Shabbat, we can be grateful for the sanctuary it offers us. Just yesterday, I was listening to Dreyfus’ interview with Fran Lebowitz, who shared that one of her favorite activities is taking a nap on her couch in New York while listening to the traffic below. There is something radically restorative about resting when the world is rushing forward. As I enter this next chapter of life, I am reflecting on the wisdom I’ve earned – and the wisdom still ahead. And as we continue the work of mentoring young people, I am reminded of Yeager’s insight: that adolescents need both high expectations and empathetic guidance as they navigate when to say “yes” and when to say “no.” Like the Israelites in the wilderness, they will learn this balance over time – with our guidance and through their own experiences.

Shabbat Shalom.