This week, in the middle of the night while almost everyone was asleep, a group of workers was busy repairing the water mains on the street in front of Chabad. These workers labored tirelessly, often without anyone even noticing. Watching them made me reflect on all the people who work behind the scenes and don’t always receive the recognition they deserve.
This idea connects to a powerful lesson from this week’s Torah portion, Vayikrah. The portion discusses the various offerings brought during Temple times—animals, flour, salt, wine, and oil. A person could bring one or all of these items, and each was considered an offering because it was placed on the altar.
Since all the offerings were burned on the altar, wood was needed to sustain the fire. This raises an interesting question: If someone brought wood as an offering, was it considered a true gift, or was it merely a necessity to keep the altar functioning?
The argument is made that not only should the wood be counted as an offering, but in some ways, it is the most significant one. Not because it stands out, but precisely because it remains in the background.
Let me explain. The purpose of bringing an offering is to symbolize offering oneself to G-d—to cultivate humility before Him. Since we cannot sacrifice ourselves, we bring an offering in our place. However, when giving a gift or making a contribution, it is often difficult to avoid feeling a sense of pride, even if only internally. And that pride, however subtle, can become an obstacle to fully closing the gap between ourselves and G-d. True humility remains incomplete when recognition or personal satisfaction is attached to our giving.
Wood, on the other hand, comes with no fanfare. It is cut in the forest, delivered through the back door, and burned to ashes. What pride can one take in it? None. And that is precisely the goal.
Just like the workers who labor through the night without expecting recognition, we too can strive to give selflessly, not for popularity or acknowledgment, but simply because it is the right thing to do.
As we approach Passover—the time when we eat matzah, the bread of humility, the food of the poor—it is the perfect opportunity to reflect on how we can contribute to making the world a better place, even when no one is watching.
Wishing you a Shabbat Shalom and a Happy Passover!
ב"ה