Parashat Pekudei: The First Jewish Accountant

If you were to take a poll of the most common ‘Jewish’ professions, I think we’d all agree that Accountancy would probably be up there in the prestigious company of Medicine and Law.

I have lost count (pun intended) of the number of my peers who entered this noble profession.  In fact, when I meet new members of ‘the tribe’ and ask them what they do, invariably they look at me knowingly and mention the ‘A’ word, followed by the usual, “It’s not the most exciting work but….”

The terms ‘Jewish’ and ‘Accountant’ are therefore not uncommon bedfellows.

One of my favourite accountancy jokes is:

How did the IDF win the Six-Day War?

They called up all the accountants, put them in the front line and then charged the Arabs.

If you’re wondering who one of the first Jewish (or in those days, ‘Israelite’) accountants was, he can be found in this week’s Parasha of Pekudei.

Let’s set the scene.

Last week, we read in precise detail about the collection and intricate production of all the materials required to build the Mishkan/Tabernacle.

Our Parashah begins by stating:

These are the accounts (‘Pekudei’) of the Tabernacle, the Tabernacle of testimony recorded at Moshe’s command by the Levites under Itamar, son of Aharon the Priest.  Betzalel, son of Uri, son of Hur, from the tribe of Yehuda, made everything that the Lord had commanded Moshe.  He was assisted by Oholiov, son of Achisamach, from the tribe of Dan.  An engraver, designer and embroiderer in sky-blue, purple and scarlet wool and fine linen. 
(Shemot 38.21-24)

This is followed by a meticulous record of the amount of gold, silver and bronze (according to Rabbi Sacks’ translation in the Koren Magerman Tanach. Other commentators translate ‘Nechoshet’ as copper or brass) used to make items such as the sockets, hooks, bronze mesh and utensils that were used with the altar, even down to the tent pegs.  The description extends to over fifty pesukim(verses) and includes every single material donated and how it was utilized to create the structure, artifacts and vessels associated with the Tabernacle.

The question we can ask is, why?

On first reading, it appears that the Torah is providing an exhaustive and repetitive narrative.  One which we’ve already read about in previous Parashiot.

What are we being taught and how is this connected to our interest in accountancy?

As usual, our first port of call is Rashi who comments that the word ‘pekudei’ (accounts) indicates an official reckoning of the Mishkan's resources.

He notes that Moshe provided a detailed report to ensure that there was no suspicion of misuse.  As the world’s first auditor, he outsourced the work to his nephew, whose accounting services are recorded in the Parasha.

However, this act of accounting was not merely procedural.

Not at all.

Moshe wanted to ensure that he, as leader of the Bnei Yisrael, was beyond reproach.  After all, he had been the Project Manager of a gargantuan endeavour.  In the process, he had collected extremely valuable materials such as gold, silver, bronze and wool from the people.  Would anyone have noticed if a gold bar or two had gone ‘missing’, perhaps set aside for Moshe’s retirement fund?

Rashi reminds us that even the most revered leader, such as Moshe, had to operate beyond reproach and, in the process, embody integrity and build trust.  After all, the Mishkan, as the dwelling place of Gd's presence, required its construction to be rooted not just in holiness but also honesty.

By engaging Itamar, Moshe ensured that there could be no question as to his integrity and that the construction and subsequent utilization of the Mishkan would be rooted in purity, from the moment the process began.

Rabbi Sacks ztl often emphasized that Judaism is not just a religion of personal spirituality but a framework for building an ethical society.  In order to create a moral and just society, one has to ensure that accountability is enshrined as a cornerstone in its construction.

The meticulous record-keeping of the Mishkan reminds us that holiness is found not only in the grand vision but in the integrity of the smallest details.  In this sense, Moshe's account mirrors the role of an accountant (and his case, an auditor).  In providing this narrative, it was not simply a case of just tallying numbers but, at the same time, ensuring that trust was maintained between the leadership and the people.  This resulted in the preservation of relationships and the instillation of a house in which Gd would dwell amongst the people.

This harks back to the very first command that Gd instructed Moshe regarding the construction of the Mishkan in Parashat Terumah (25.8)

They shall make me a sanctuary and I will dwell in their midst.

We, the Jewish people, have always marched to the beat of a different drum and engrained the ethics that we learnt in the Torah at the heart of our faith.  From educating our children and giving Tzedaka, to refusing to lose our faith in Gd when we couldn’t even work out how to survive – our moral compass tells us the right way to behave.  Accountability is hardwired into our DNA and, if you don’t believe me, just think back to how you felt during the High Holiday season.

Itamar, the first Jewish accountant, and his uncle, teach us how important it is to be accountable and how, inside each of us, is the remnant of the purity that flowed through the Mishkan.  At Sinai, Gd said:

“A kingdom of priests and a holy nation you shall be to me.”

It seems that we are all ‘accountants’ and this goes some way to explaining why this might qualify as being ‘most Jewish of professions’ and Jewish mothers around the world can justifiably kvell!

Shavuah Tov and Chodesh Tov.