What are you building?

A wealthy man once passed a construction site and noticed three workers laying bricks. Curious, he approached the first and asked, “What are you doing?”

“I’m laying bricks,” the man answered, without looking up.

The second man replied, “I’m building a wall.”

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But the third paused, smiled and said, “I’m building a house of worship — a place where people will gather to connect to something higher.”

Three men, same job — but only one knew his purpose.

This story isn’t just about bricklayers. It’s about all of us. We may be building families, businesses, communities or careers — but if we forget what we’re ultimately building, we risk becoming just laborers, not visionaries.

In the beginning of this week’s Parshat the Torah outlines the agricultural cycle in the Land of Israel:

“When you come into the land which I give you, the land shall rest a Sabbath to G-d. Six years you shall sow your field…”

The order is strange. We’d expect the Torah to first describe six years of labor, followed by the seventh year of rest — the Sabbatical year, or Shemita. But instead, the Torah opens with rest: “The land shall rest a Sabbath to G-d,” and only then speaks of six years of work. It almost sounds as if the very first thing the people did upon entering the Land of Israel was observe Shemita — which we know wasn’t the case. In reality, the first Shemita year didn’t begin until after the six years of work. So why present it as if rest came before work?

The Lubavitcher Rebbe explains that the Torah here is teaching us a life lesson. The Shemita year represents more than agricultural practice — it reflects our entire approach to life. The Torah places Shemita first to remind us: Purpose comes before productivity.

We are not defined by our work. We are not here just to plant and harvest, to build and acquire. First and foremost, we are souls — sent into this world to create a dwelling place for the Divine.

In Shemita, a Jewish farmer would stop tilling the soil and instead turn inward — toward G-d, toward Torah, toward trust. The land, like our lives, was to be returned to its true Owner. This wasn’t a break from the routine; it was a return to the point.

And that point must come first.

Our modern world often reverses the order. It tells us to work, build, succeed — and only then, if there’s time, to rest, reflect or reconnect with meaning. The Torah tells us otherwise: Begin with purpose.

Begin with Shemita. Let your work be informed by your mission, not the other way around.

Only then can our labor — whether physical or professional, spiritual or social — truly become a sacred act.

Like the third builder, we, too, are constructing something more than bricks and walls. We’re building spaces — in our homes, our heart and our communities — where the presence of G-d can dwell.

So before we ask what we’re doing, we must ask why.

Because knowing you’re building a sanctuary changes everything. PJC

Rabbi Yisroel Altein is the spiritual leader of Chabad of Squirrel Hill. This column is a service of Vaad Harabonim of Greater Pittsburgh.