Why Were the Graves of So Many Jewish GIs Marked by a Cross?
7 min read
Day after day, it reoccurs. Dawn precedes sunrise, and morning gently morphs into afternoon. The descending sunset lingers as twilight fades to dusk. Finally, evening recedes into the shadows of a dark night. Another distinct day has passed. Day after day the sequence repeats. The same components, yet each one is unique—and so too is every individual.
Toward the end of this week’s Torah portion, the Torah describes how, over the course of 12 days, the prince of each of the twelve tribes of Israel brought his own set of identical offerings. This process began on the much-anticipated day in which the Mishkan was inaugurated. Each prince donated exactly the same things. The description of these identical gifts is repeated twelve times. Why is the Torah so seemingly redundant here? The Torah could have enumerated the offerings of the first prince and then stated that each of the others brought the same donation. Why didn’t it? This repetition is alerting us to a profound underlying lesson.
Each prince had two types of intentions: his own unique intention, and that which he shared in common with the other princes. Although outwardly, each offering appeared to be the same, each individual’s intentions accorded it special meaning. Though the twelve leaders brought identical offerings, they each had different inner intentions and thoughts in their choice of components. Here’s an example: Each prince brought a silver basin weighing seventy shekels. For one prince, it symbolized the seventy Jews who descended to Egypt from Canaan. To another, it represented the seventy nations that descended from Noach. While the offerings were the same materially, each had its unique significance and each was equally honored and valued.
This is the fundamental lesson that we can learn from the repetition of each prince’s contribution to the Mishkan. How can each of us apply this major lesson to our own lives? There are numerous ways. People may come to feel lost in the crowd, especially when doing the same mitzvah as many others. One may feel subsumed by the group—erased and insignificant. This lengthy section of repetition is presented to make a crucial point. Each and every person’s mitzvah is unique. Even the same mitzvah embodies the unique expression of the individual who performs it.
We each can bring distinguishing traits, unlike those of anyone else, to our every action. Each of us has a different background and family history. One person’s upbringing may have been spiritually privileged, while another’s was deprived of meaningful Torah instruction or positive role models. Each person has his or her own disposition and inner struggles. We each are a composite of diverse experiences and are shaped by all of them. Performing the same action or mitzvah is never the same. While the offerings of each of the twelve princes were physically the same, the individual rationale for bringing them made each prince’s offerings unique and meaningful.
This lesson underscores the intrinsic value that Judaism places upon each person. The Torah’s enumeration of the identical offerings of the twelve princes emphasizes how every person’s actions and motivations matter greatly to God. Both importance and meaning are attached to every positive action that we take and every negative action from which we refrain. Such teachings bring about positive consequences. The Torah accords every person dignity and self-worth, because he or she is loved by God.
A Mishnah in Pirkei Avos (Ethics of the Fathers) states that “man is beloved because he was created in the image of God.” The Mishnah goes on to relate the essential importance of every person. It explains that “Adam, the first man, was created alone to teach that whoever destroys one soul…is as if he destroyed an entire world,” and conversely, “anyone who saves one soul…is as if he saved an entire world.”
Mistakenly, those unfamiliar with the Torah’s teachings assume that the structure and self-discipline of a Torah lifestyle limits self-expression. These same people admire athletes and performers, who never could have achieved professional success without structure and self-discipline. It is through a Torah-structured lifestyle that one is able to uncover and reveal his or her greatest spiritual and personal potential. By doing so, one’s personal self-expression is accentuated and galvanized.
The Torah’s assistance in helping people develop their own self-discipline doesn’t limit one’s self-expression. Rather it enhances self-expression, channeling it to achieve one’s most lofty life’s goals.
Social comparison is pervasive in our times. This only leads to negative emotions, either low self-esteem or haughtiness. Try going a day with- out comparing yourself to anyone else. Don’t compare your life, clothes, cars, houses, or achievements to anyone else. Rather than focusing on how you compare to others, direct your energy to what you are capable of now. Focus your efforts on upgrading your personal and spiritual profile.
Freeing yourself from the shackles of negative comparisons, you can concentrate on what counts most: who you are in the present moment. Rather than comparing yourself to someone else, compare yourself to who you were this morning. Are you better than you were when you woke up? If not, you’ve not used the opportunities of living another day. Why squander the many opportunities presented throughout the twenty-four-hour day to strengthen your relationship with God, with others, and with yourself? Think of how you can improve and grow in relation to who you were yesterday.
When you stop comparing yourself to others and focus inward, you’ll start to see positive results. People who frequently make social com- parisons are more likely to experience feelings of sadness, envy, and overall dissatisfaction with life. Comparing ourselves to others can be toxic for many reasons. Most damaging is what it does to our sense of self-worth. We will feel “less than” or that we’re “not good enough.” This is an unhealthy place to be and it leads to anxiety and depression.
Society oftentimes measures a person’s value by what he possesses rather than by that which he is. The narrative of the offerings of the tribal princes clearly illustrates that it’s not having more but being more that really matters. Instead of focusing solely on the physical and material content of each day, consider each day as a new opportunity to focus souly: to develop your inner, spiritual potential. Spiritual growth presents us with dynamic opportunities to become more—to develop into the best versions of who each of us can be. Without envy or jealousy, we can feel assured that our spiritual growth and deeds have significance and value.
Day after day, the sun rises to greet the new morning. As each sunset approaches, ask yourself this question: Did my thoughts and my actions increase or decrease the value of this day? Tomorrow, push the reset button to reactivate another chance to get it right. Every individual can transform the never-ending flow of time into a purposeful journey of progress.
Throughout the generations, individuals have contributed their unique gifts to the tapestry of the Jewish People. Each different colored thread has enriched and fortified the collective sum of its parts. No two are exactly the same. We share a collective journey that began thousands of years before us. It continues through the actions of you and me. Moving forward toward a Divinely designed destination, each of our actions (or inactions) matters. Every day truly matters. Each day is the same—with a sunrise and a sunset—but we see it differently from day to day. We all can do the same acts and mitzvot, each in our unique way. The reality is that we are all the same—only different.
