The Builder as Teacher
On Betzalel's Leadership
And Moses said to the Israelites: See, the Lord has singled out by name Bezalel, son of Uri son of Hur, of the tribe of Judah, endowing him with a divine spirit of skill, ability, and knowledge in every kind of craft, and inspiring him to make designs for work in gold, silver, and copper, to cut stones for setting and to carve wood—to work in every kind of designer’s craft—and to give directions. (Exodus 35:34)
In addition to the above skills, God put in his heart the ability to teach because there are many wise men who teach with great difficulty. (Ibn Ezra)
There are many great scholars whose wisdom is locked up in their hearts due to their inability to transmit it successfully to outsiders. The ability to teach is a great gift, and this is why the Torah testifies that God granted this gift to Betzalel. There is also a moral lesson contained in this verse not to act like certain members of the family of Bet Gormu who wanted to preserve their monopoly on the intricacies of preparing the show breads by not teaching their craft to any non-family member. The Talmud severely criticized their behavior (Yoma 38). People who do teach their crafts qualify for the blessing expressed by Solomon in Proverbs 10:7: “The memory of a righteous person is a source of blessing.” (Or HaChaim)
This week’s Torah reading (Vayakhel) begins not by telling us about the Tabernacle’s chief architect, Betzalel, but about all the people whose hearts move them to give. Bezalel, and his right-hand man, Oholiab, only come onto the scene 30+ verses into our chapter. The order is significant. The commandment to contribute to the Temple is a communal and collective one, requiring all who are motivated (those whose hearts are not moved are not required to give). The Tabernacle is meant to be a labor of love. The design and construction of holy places is, first and foremost, a function of inspiration, not skill or expertise. A skilled artisan who contributed for esteem or for money or to pad the resume would be ineligible.
Yet, if the Mishkan were just the sum total of people’s disorganized and undirected passions, it would be a mess. Passion is no substitute for competence, either. Someone is needed to take all the positive energy and find a place for it. Betzalel has the skill of an artisan; he has technical know-how, and product vision, but his crowning virtue is the ability to route people’s strengths and passions to the right place. Betzalel, if you will, is a kind a of matchmaker between raw talent, on the one hand, and the needs of the divine abode, on the other. His knowledge of the craft is a pre-requisite for his success as a manager, but it is by no means what makes him excellent. If 10,000 people came to you and said we “want to help,” would you know what to do with them? Betzalel found a way to take volunteers and organize them, keeping their energy in tact while also ensuring that their “help” was actually helpful.
According to Ibn Ezra, Betzalel was not just someone who knew how to make the puzzle pieces come together, but also a teacher. Betzalel took the desire to contribute and found the potential in it. The attitude needed to say “yes” to this desire is distinct from the prophetic attitude, which tends towards criticism. Recall that the people have just worshipped a golden calf, deploying their gold and their desire towards destructive ends. While Moses’s harsh response is situationally appropriate, Betzalel’s example is literally “constructive.” Betzalel provides the middle-ground between Moses’s refusal of idolatry and Aaron’s capitulation to it. Betzalel refuses both the aloofness of the heavenly Moses and the reactivity of the earthly Aaron. He maintains a vision, but also works with the materials he’s given, a masterful feat. If you think about it, Betzalel is not an architect of stuff, so much as an architect of souls. The acacia wood, the crimson and lapis lazuli, are pretext for a skilled leader to give people a place in the world. A building that was built on the basis of coercion or ulterior motives would not give people a place in the world. It would be a tower of Babel. Betzalel is placed second in the sequence to emphasize his ability to give coherence to an initiative that is bottom-up.
Betzalel is singled out as a teacher, according to Or HaChaim, to emphasize another virtuous quality typically lacking amongst experts—a desire to popularize and share, rather than hoard. Those with access to the rites of the Temple might be tempted to keep their knowledge secret so as to maintain their social advantage and consolidate their political power. But Betzalel, if you will, makes his understanding of the Mishkan open source. The most generous reading of Betzalel is that he knows that the building project will be strengthened by mass adoption and engagement. But there is another more pragmatic interpretation which is also worth considering.
Toyota publishes the plans of its factory floor, announcing to the world, “I dare you to copy us.” To this day, no car factory has managed to adopt Toyota’s plans. Their IP is not in what they publish, but in the implicit understanding and culture they bring to to their work, something more intangible. Hamilton Helmer says Toyota’s competitive advantage is its processing power. In a way, Betzalel is similar to Toyota—even if you could survey his brain and abstract all of his algorithms it would do you no good. There is an X-factor to him that makes him uncopyable. This is, in business terms, his moat.
I believe that Betzalel’s uniqueness translated in his generosity and willingness to teach, for he knew that sharing his knowledge and wisdom would not make him irrelevant, but more relevant. A great teacher, says the Tao Te Ching, pours out his cup, and yet it remains full. In Adam Grant’s taxonomy, a great teacher is a giver, not a matcher or taker. But the ability to be generous, especially when it comes to sharing the tricks of the trade, often requires a sense of psychological safety that you can only get if you feel above competition. A chef who shares her recipes must know that the secret sauce is not in the recipe, but in the human touch brought to it.
Last week, we discussed the ways in which GPT technology can resemble an idol. Betzalel offers the flip insight—that the human algorithm that can be transcribed is not the human algorithm. The way that can be named is not the eternal way. The floor plans of the Mishkan are not the essence of the Mishkan. Did Betzalel teach skills? Yes. But what was the real skill that he brought and that he taught? The skill of being human, the skill of being unique, the skill of not copying others, the skill of finding a path to self-love and to divine worship that is not written in any book. The teacher teaches the love of learning. Love of learning enables the master to find new possibilities in students and awaken their own aspirations to move from amateur to teacher. How profound to think that the building project was an educational project in disguise. Of course the rabbis would say this, our consummate teachers, and yet, it is their words we continue to study even as the buildings are long-gone.
Shabbat Shalom,
Zohar Atkins
I interviewed Damon Linker about philosophy, religion, and being a pundit.
I was interviewed by Spencer Kier about bridging religious and secular life.