And it turns out, it’s a feeling that resonates even within the stories of our most revered figures.

Bamidbar Rabbah, a collection of rabbinic teachings on the Book of Numbers, dives into this very idea. It uses a verse from Ecclesiastes – a book known for its reflections on the often-perplexing nature of life – to illustrate a fascinating point: "For there is a man whose toil is in wisdom, in knowledge, and in skill, but he will leave his portion to a man who did not toil in it" (Ecclesiastes 2:21).

Who are these men? According to Bamidbar Rabbah 12, the first is Betzalel.

Now, Betzalel was no ordinary craftsman. He was the artisan divinely appointed to construct the Mishkan – that is, the Tabernacle, the portable sanctuary that accompanied the Israelites in the desert. Exodus 31:3 tells us, “I have filled him with a divine spirit, with wisdom, with understanding and with knowledge…” He poured his heart, soul, and skill into every detail. Every piece was imbued with his expertise.

But, the text continues, “he will leave his portion to a man who did not toil in it” – and that man is Moses.

Wait a minute... Moses? The same Moses who led the Israelites out of Egypt, received the Torah at Sinai, and spoke directly with God? Why him? Well, the text points out that while Betzalel built the Tabernacle, it was ultimately called "That Moses concluded." Even though Moses wasn't physically crafting the Tabernacle, its significance was tied to his leadership and vision. Moses’ spiritual leadership and vision were the driving force behind the entire endeavor.

It’s a powerful idea, isn't it? Betzalel's work was essential, indispensable. And yet, the narrative frames Moses as the one who ultimately receives the "credit," or at least the association, because he was the leader who made the whole project possible.

The text goes on to say that the same is true of Solomon and David. We can infer that even though David laid the groundwork and yearned to build the Temple in Jerusalem, it was ultimately his son, Solomon, who completed the task and had it attributed to him.

So, what does this all mean? It's not about diminishing Betzalel’s contribution, not at all. Rather, it’s about the complexities of leadership, legacy, and how we attribute success. Sometimes, the person who does the hands-on work doesn't always get the recognition, and sometimes the leader gets the credit even if they weren't in the workshop hammering away.

Perhaps the takeaway is this: true leadership isn’t just about being in the spotlight. It's about inspiring, enabling, and empowering others to bring their gifts to the world – even if their names aren’t always the ones remembered first. And maybe, just maybe, it's a reminder to appreciate the Betzalels in our lives – the unsung heroes whose skill and dedication make so much possible.