Enough is Enough

This week’s Torah reading, Vayakhel, provides instructions for building the Temple. When the Torah presents lists of details, we must look for exceptional places where there is a brief narrative instead. They stand out like a block of solid color against a pointillist background. We must attend to their meaning.

In Vayakhel, the design specifications for the Tabernacle are briefly paused for a story: the Israelites brought more donations than God required. Moses halted the gifts. The people stopped. Their offerings sufficed. Enough was enough.

This echoes another little narrative clearing in a forest of details—the passage in Terumah, which otherwise also consists of building specifications, where God invites every Israelite to donate to the Tabernacle in accordance with their heart. The people, in fact, overflowed with generosity; but the Tabernacle was intended to be only so big and so ornate, and enough was enough.

Speaking of what human beings should strive for in their own personal lives, Rabbi Zoma teaches, “Who is rich? He who is happy with his lot.” Wisdom lies in contentment, not endless wealth. Joseph Heller, the author of Catch-22, heard that a banker out-earned his royalties daily. “I have something he doesn’t,” he said. “Enough.”

Accepting that enough is enough is a lesson that kings and commoners can learn. King Solomon drew vast labor and materials for his palace. The Torah warns against such excess. Babylon’s ziggurats and Solomon’s palaces mark arrogant overreach.

The Passover song Dayenu—‘enough for us’—is a joyous and self-subversive take on ‘enoughness.’ We sing gratitude at each Exodus step, claiming ‘it would’ve been enough.’ Really? If the Israelites had been left on the Red Sea’s near shore, unparted, chariots closing in—no, that really would not have sufficed. The exuberant spirit of the song invites us to be grateful for whatever God gives us—in wry contrast with the dire realities that a stubborn world still presents us.

Sometimes, in reality, not enough is actually not enough. With respect to performing mitzvot, the Tradition favors moderation over excessive zeal in performing mitzvot. Kohelet cautions against excessive righteousness, lest it crowd out life. Pirkei Avot 4:5 urges Torah study for its own sake, not for gain. Maimonides’ “middle path” means required fasts, not needless denial.

The Mussar movement, founded by Rabbi Israel Salanter in the 19th century, refines ethics through introspection. It calls for balance among competing qualities in our character. We may, for example, have to balance our truthfulness with the need to be kind.

The Tanakh shows that God acknowledges the principle of ‘enough’ in service to Him and His commandments, rather than expecting absolute and fanatic submission. The Akedah, the story of the binding of Isaac, asks whether an infinite power would demand the ultimate sacrifice—of a father’s son on an altar. After the fraught suspense, the answer proves to be a definitive no. The sacrifice of an animal can be enough, even for a power that is supreme over human beings.

In Deuteronomy 4:2, God says, “You shall not add” to the words I command you—as well as not subtract from them. God eventually distances Himself in the Wilderness, knowing the Israelites cannot meet every demand. They need room to live and stumble and learn and rise. A covenant entails a set of fixed rules rather than inviting a continuous stream of fresh commands from the more powerful party.

In the Kabbalistic tradition, God diminishes His presence—through zimzum, the contraction of His light to make space for the world—to allow for human freedom and creativity. We crave God’s nearness. Yet in the wilderness, He limits His presence and His demands. He gives us enough room to exercise our own character and creativity.

We are prone to chase extremes, some of us in the name of God; yet God Himself opts for measure and moderation in what He demands of us. God has implanted in us a divine spark and provided us with some advice. With those gifts, we hope to find in our journey a meaning that is enough for each of us in its own way.

From Kohelet to Ben Zoma to Joseph Heller, the wisest among us have taught that we can be satisfied with enough. We need only work six days a week, and we can accept that the outer world and our inner frailties limit what we can accomplish in those six days. Three times a day in the prayer service, we ask to be forgiven and we forgive others. The Talmud says of Torah learning that it is impossible to complete the task, but we are not excused from beginning it. God has asked from us that we accomplish enough; enough for ourselves, enough for Him;  enough is not infinite, it is not perfection…all it is is merely and amply enough.