The time for building the Mishkan has finally arrived. After receiving detailed instruction from Hashem about all of the components of the Mishkan, Moshe is ready to communicate those instructions to the Jewish people.  

“Va’yakhel Moshe es kol adas Benei Yisroel va’yomer aleihem,” Moshe gathered the entire assembly of Israel and he said to them, “eleh ha-devarim asher tzivah Hashem la’asos osam,” these are the things that God has said to do (Shemos 35:1).Upon reflection, however, it is curious that Moshe gathered the entire nation to deliver this message considering that really only the artisans and skilled laborers needed to be taught the building plans. Furthermore, this gathering is particularly surprising when we consider that over the 40 year sojourn in the desert Moshe only assembled the entire nation a handful of times, each for a critical and overarching message. But in this gathering Moshe primarily speaks about the specifications of the various components of the Mishkan and, important as those details may be, this does not seem to need an audience of “kol adas Benei Yisroel?” 

In response to these difficulties a number of different explanations are offered. Some meforshim (see Itturei Torah, v. 3 p. 273) suggest that this gathering was intended to highlight the importance of national unity. The message of achdus and ahavas Yisroel is important generally and at all times but it was especially critical before they started building the Mishkan. If we want to maintain a home for Avinu She’ba-shamayim, “our Father in heaven,” a necessary prerequisite is that we – His children – are unified and at peace with one another. The fact that it was our disunity which tragically caused the destruction of the Second Temple only underscores the importance of this message as they began to build the Mishkan. 

The Ramban offers an alternate explanation which focuses on the closeness that must exist – especially at this important time – between Hashem and the Jewish people. Namely, the Ramban explains that, in the aftermath of the Chet Ha-egel and the breaking of the luchos, the nation needed to renew their covenant with Hashem. These events, given their seriousness, had the potential to create a permanent and devastating distance between God and His people. Therefore, explains the Ramban, in order to get past their betrayal of the relationship the people gathered for a “beris chadashah,” a new covenant, which stressed that, “chazar le’kadmasam u-le’ahavas kelulosam,” the relationship with Hashem had now returned to its original state – prior to the sin – and they had restored “the love of their nuptials.”  Thus understood, this truly was an important gathering which demanded the presence of the entire nation.  

Rav Aharon Lichtenstein (vbm-torah.org) offers an additional explanation which also focuses on rectifying a relationship, although not between the nation and Hashem, but rather, between the people and Moshe. 

Going back to the time that Benei Yisroel left Egypt, the people had no doubt of Moshe’s love for them and they reciprocated that love. Moshe’s dedication was without limit and, as a result, he sat to judge the nation “from dawn to dusk” (Shemos 18:13). Despite the intuitive wisdom of Yisro’s suggestion to delegate some of the judicial responsibilities, Moshe initially resisted because, as the Ramban (v. 15) explains, he was reluctant to relax his connection to the people. The nation undoubtedly appreciated their unfettered access to Moshe and the ability they had to approach him directly with any question.   

Everything changed, however, once Moshe went up to receive the Torah. When Moshe delayed – as mistakenly calculated by the people – coming down from the mountain the motivation to create the Egel Ha-zahav was because the nation felt abandoned and didn’t know if Moshe would ever return. When they approach Aharon they refer to Moshe as the man “asher he'elanu me'eretz Mitzrayim,” who took us out of Egypt (Shemos 32:1), and R. Lichtentein explains that they meant this as a derogatory reference; namely, how could Moshe, the man who took us out of the secure life we had in Egypt, forsake us now that we are in the desert? And then, when Moshe finally returns, he is not the loving leader they remembered, but a “fiery zealot” who orders the death of three thousand people. Instead of the “old Moshe” who dwelled amongst the people, Moshe is now a distant leader whose tent is pitched “far from the camp” (33:7). Beyond physical proximity, this new location reflected the emotional distance that the people now felt between them and their leader.  

R. Lichtenstein perceptively notes, however, that this distance existed solely from the perspective of the people. But we, readers of the Torah, know that the truth was very different because we are aware of an incredible conversation that Benei Yisroel knew nothing about (32:11-13). We know of the selfless and heroic efforts that Moshe made to save the Jewish people from God’s wrath after the Sin of the Golden Calf. God wanted to annihilate the entire nation and restart the Jewish people with just the descendants of Moshe. But Moshe rejects this offer, declaring instead that if the people would not survive, “mechaeini na me’sifrecha,” then he too would perish (32:32). 

From our perspective, therefore, we know of Moshe’s incredible love of the people and his abiding commitment to their survival. But the people themselves, who didn’t know about this conversation and Moshe’s self-sacrifice, “experience only deep anger, distance, and dissociation.” 

Moshe was aware of the gap that had developed between him and the people and therefore, suggests R. Lichtenstein, this is why he gathers the entire nation together. The purpose of “va’yakhel” was for Moshe to reconnect with his beloved nation and to rebuild their trust in him. To accomplish this goal, obviously, it would not have been sufficient to meet with just with leaders and elders, or even the artisans, but rather he called for, “a general gathering of the people – in order to pursue his goal of reinstating the relationship between himself and each and every member of the nation.” 

The common denominator of all three explanations is that the gathering of the nation before the building of the Mishkan was dedicated to achdus and strengthening connections. The cumulative picture that emerges from these suggestions describes the ideal state of Benei Yisroel: Unity between Jews, loving commitment to Hashem, and a relationship of mutual trust and loyalty between the people and their leader. The presence of these factors enabled the unprecedented accomplishment of creating a home for Hashem in this world. To the extent that we can recreate this ideal then we too can accomplishments great things even in our day.