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YHE-HOLIDAY:
SPECIAL SHAVUOT 5770 PACKAGE
(Part
2)
*********************************************************
This Package
contains:
1.
Torah and Life, by HaRav Aharon Lichtenstein
2.
Torah Values and Torah Commandments, by HaRav Yehuda
Amital
3.
The Kingdom of the House of David, by Rav Binyamin
Tabory
4.
From Faith to Revelation: The Waving of the Omer, the Counting of
the Omer, and the Festival of Shavuot, by Rav Yehuda
Rock
For more shiurim
related to Shavuot, see: http://www.vbm-torah.org/shavuot.htm
Chag
Sameach!
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Torah and Life
Based on a sicha by
Harav Aharon Lichtenstein
Adapted by Yitzchak Barth with Reuven
Ziegler
Translated by Kaeren Fish
1)
“REAL LIFE”
Many people assume there is a contrast – if not conflict – between
Torah and “life.” In this view,
“life” includes all the practical, “serious” spheres whose participants
contribute to the world and help develop it. As opposed to them is the “Torah,” with
which young people who have not yet moved on to “real life” amuse
themselves. Unfortunately, echoes
of this view are even to be heard within the beit midrash. Many yeshiva students do not relate to
Torah study as “life” itself, but rather as preparation and training for
life.
In the chapter on the word “life” in his Studies in Words
(Cambridge, 1967), C.S. Lewis points out that when a person speaks about
“real life,” he refers to those elements of life which he values most
highly. Thus, for example, many
people relate to a business deal as an expression of “real life,” while writing
poetry or engaging in philosophy are pursuits not deemed worthy of such a
dignified title. Lewis claims that
the source of this mistaken distinction is to be found in “the deeply ingrained
conviction of narrow minds that whatever things they themselves are chiefly
exercised on are the only important things, the only things worth adult,
informed, and thoroughgoing interest” (p. 292). He finds this distinction unacceptable,
since it means that “everything except acquisition and social success is
excluded from the category of ‘real life’ and relegated to the realm of play or
day-dream” (ibid.).
Lewis’ analysis of the prevailing attitude towards spheres of secular
thought is all the more applicable when it comes to engaging in Torah. Many Jews believe that the Torah is
relevant only within a constricted area, and they attempt to discover at which
points this area coincides with “life” – the world in which they themselves are
engaged. In many cases people think
this way even if they are not aware of it.
The frequently posed question, “What are you going to do when you leave
yeshiva and go out into the big wide world?” actually reflects an attitude that
regards Torah as a sphere external to life. Obviously, such a view – in which
utilitarian activities take precedence over the realm of thought – is deficient
from any self-respecting religious and spiritual point of view. Of course, we value yishuvo shel
olam, developing the world, and the people involved in it are certainly
worthy of praise. But we must be
firm in our opposition to the view that engaging in divrei chokhma, Torah
and matters of the spirit, is not “real life.”
A
well-known mishna teaches that both the practical and the intellectual
spheres are essential; neither can exist without the other. “If there is no worldly sustenance
(literally: flour), there is no Torah; if there is no Torah, there is no worldly
sustenance” (Avot 3:17). The
mishna does not mean to equate the significance of these two
spheres. Man was not created in
order to grind flour, nor to fill his belly with bread. Rather, he was created in order to serve
God – including the pursuit of Torah, “for it is for this purpose that you were
created” (Avot 2:8). Like
the famous assertion of the French playwright Moliere, that “One should eat to
live, and not live to eat” (Valère, Act 3, Scene 1), we believe that we
must work and eat in order to engage in Torah, rather than engage in Torah in
order to eat. Torah is not detached
from life; on the contrary, we declare daily that Torah “is our life and the
length of our days.” This means that engaging the Torah is the crux, the
essence, the most important part of life.
At the end of Avot de-Rabbi Natan (34:10), the beraita
lists ten entities that are called “life”: God is called “life,” Israel are
called “life,” the Torah is called “life,” as well as the righteous, the Garden
of Eden, the Tree, Eretz Yisrael, deeds of kindness, Torah sages, and
water. Even the most cursory review
of this list reveals that most of the things that are called “life” belong to
the realm of the spirit. Some of
them are connected to the practical world, and some even belong to that world
exclusively, but this list unquestionably suggests that “true life” is found,
first and foremost, in the world of the spirit, the Torah, and sanctity. The reasoning behind this assertion is
clear: King David defined life as the connection with the Source of life: “For
with You lies the source of life; by Your light we shall see light”
(Tehillim 34:10), and the Torah is the most central and direct channel to
the Creator. The Torah connects man
with God, and therefore occupation with Torah is the principal channel of
life.
At the conclusion of two different discussions, the Gemara quotes
Rabbi Tarfon’s exclamation after Rabbi Akiva won an argument between them:
“Akiva, anyone who separates himself from you is, as it were, separating himself
from life!” (Kiddushin 66b; Zevachim 13a). Ironically, the subjects under
discussion in each of these two debates are far from practical. In Massekhet Kiddushin the debate
concerns matters of ritual purity and impurity, while in Massekhet
Zevachim the Tannaim discuss receiving the blood of sacrificial
animals. The impression conveyed by
the Gemara is unequivocal: it is Torah itself that is life, and hence there is
no need to seek artificial points of contact between these two
spheres.
Since the Torah is called “life” and engagement in it is a central
occupation of our lives, it is clear that yeshiva study should not be regarded
merely as a preparation for the rest of life. Every moment in which a person is not
engaged in Torah is a moment wasted, and represents a loss in its own right –
over and above the loss for the future, in that the person is not preparing for
the rest of his life. When King
David asked God to allow him to die on erev Shabbat rather than on Shabbat day,
his request was refused: “Better for Me one day that you sit and engage in Torah
than a thousand burnt sacrifices that Shlomo, your son, is destined to offer
upon the altar before Me” (Shabbat 30a). Obviously, the Torah that David learned
on the eve of his death was not preparing him for anything. The sole significance of those hours on
Shabbat eve was the learning itself, altogether unconnected to “preparation for
the rest of life.” Nevertheless, the Gemara concludes decisively that those
hours of learning, not preparing him for anything, were preferable in God’s eyes
to the thousand sacrifices that Shlomo offered on the day of the dedication of
the altar!
Torah study has inherent importance in God’s eyes, and we should view
it in the same way. The
mishna teaches, “Better one hour of repentance and good deeds in this
world than all of the life of the World-to-Come” (Avot 4:17) – even if it
is one single hour, in which the person is not preparing himself for the rest of
his life. Beyond the fact that the
period of yeshiva study prepares students for the rest of their lives, it is a
period of intensive life in its own right – filled with Torah and closeness to
God. The purpose of life is to
cleave to God, and the road to this cleaving passes through the beit
midrash.
We must be careful not to downplay the importance of engaging in
Torah by assigning an exaggerated significance to worldly concerns. The Torah’s definition of “life” is
unequivocal: “And you who cleave to the Lord your God are alive, all of you,
this day” (Devarim 4:4).
Cleaving to God is itself “life,” and the place where this “life” is
realized is in the beit midrash.
For this reason, King David says of the Temple – the focal point of
cleaving to God – “For there God commanded the blessing, eternal life”
(Tehillim 133:3). It is
specifically within the beit midrash, the place where we cut
ourselves off from the external world and devote all our energies to achieving
an intensive closeness to God – it is specifically here that the blessing of
eternal life is invoked.
2)
A “TORAH OF LIFE”
The expression “a Torah of life” (Torat chayyim) is familiar
to us from the prayer service: in the blessing “Ahava Rabba” we thank God
for teaching us “chukkei chayyim, statutes of life,” and in the “Sim
Shalom” blessing we mention that He has given us a “Torah of life.” There
are several reasons why the Torah is referred to in this way.
First, Torah comes from God, Who is the Source of life. The Torah first became manifest to us as
the voice of the living God speaking from Mount Sinai to all of Israel. From that time onwards, as the Torah
expanded into the Tanakh, Mishna, Gemara, and the writings
of the great Torah sages of all generations, it remained essentially an
interpretation and elaboration of the words of the living
God.
Second, the Torah is called a “Torah of life” because it gives life
and leads towards life, as we declare in the “Ahavat Olam” blessing in
the evening service: “For they [the words of Torah] are our life and the length
of our days.” It is interesting to note that the blessings over the Torah
actually point to a contrast between Torah and life: we bless God for having
given us “the Torah of truth,” and thereafter we say that He has
“implanted within us eternal life.”
However, most of the commentators explain that the expression “eternal
life” (chayyei olam) parallels “the Torah of truth” which precedes
it. In other words, the “Torah of
truth” is itself “eternal life,” for by engaging in Torah a person inherits
eternal life. In Bava Metzia
(33a) the same idea is formulated in halakhic terms: “One’s father brought him
into this world, but one’s teacher – who imparts to him wisdom – brings one to
the eternal world.”
A third reason for the title “a Torah of life” is the vitality and
ongoing development that characterize Torah. The Gemara (Chagiga 3b) draws a
comparison in this regard between Torah and the plant kingdom: “Just as this
plant is fertile and multiplies – so the words of Torah are fertile and
multiply.” Similarly, the final mishna in Bava Batra (175b) draws
a parallel between dinei mamonot and a flowing spring. Although a mikve – like a flowing
spring – purifies those who are ritually impure, a spring continually
replenishes itself and never stands still, and therefore a spring is preferable
to a standing mikve (Mikvaot 1:7). This is also the nature of Jewish civil
law.
A final reason for the term “Torah of life” is that, in contrast to
many other cultures which glorify death, the Torah occupies itself with life and
sanctifies it. There is no death
worship in Judaism. By delving into
the tiniest details of all aspects of life, Halakha expresses its respect and
appreciation for life in all its forms.
The Torah addresses every part of a person’s life and strives to sanctify
all of it – including everything from creative life, through economic life, to
the most everyday and material of daily activities. The message that arises from the Torah’s
occupation with these spheres is that every moment of life has significance, and
can serve as the springboard to spiritual elevation. In the Jewish view, a live dog is
preferable to a dead lion. So long
as a person is alive, he may progress and sanctify himself. But when he is dead, he is removed from
the world of sanctification and the fulfillment of
Halakha.
Some people posit that a “Torah of life” is a Torah that shows
consideration for the realities and necessities of life. According to this view, Torah sages
should enact rabbinic rulings and interpret Halakha with a view towards
addressing life’s issues. In
practice, this approach is popular mainly in specific areas of Halakha, in which
the halakhic authorities have been especially lenient throughout the ages, such
as their consideration for the anguish of “chained women” (who are refused
divorces by their husbands) and the suffering of the poor. This is not the place to treat this
extensive subject in detail, but it should be emphasized that in this regard
both extremes are wrong. On the one
hand, there are those who insist that for every issue and in every instance
there must be a halakhic solution, and the only problem preventing the release
of all the “chained women” in the world is the timidity and laziness of the
halakhic authorities. On the other
hand, there are those who declare that the world of Halakha is self-contained,
and no values need be taken into consideration other than purely halakhic
ones. In my view, a true Torah sage
must feel a dual obligation: towards Torah and towards the Jewish people, and he
must find the “golden mean” that balances the needs of these two
factors.
3)
“A LIFE OF TORAH”
In addition to speaking of a “Torah of life” (Torat chayyim),
we also speak of a “life of Torah” (chayyei Torah). By this we mean a
life that is based upon Torah – and this is true on several different
levels.
First, a “life of Torah” is built on the foundation of the Torah’s
commandments; it is the Torah that directs one’s path. On the most basic level, we are speaking
of a life guided by Halakha; one makes one’s decisions and acts in accordance
with the Torah’s directives. But
beyond this, a Jew who lives a life of Torah senses continually the weight of
his or her responsibility as a commanded being. This constant awareness is unique to the
Jewish religion and to the Jewish nation.
There are many religions in which a person experiences God as the
Creator, the Redeemer, the All-Powerful, and the Source of kindness, but a Jew
experiences God primarily as the Law-Giver and the One Who commands. A person who lives a life of Torah
operates in accordance with this constant consciousness: as he or she wakes up
in the morning, goes to work, eats, and even as when preparing to sleep. There is no activity – even the most
seemingly mundane and insignificant – that does not consult the Shulchan
Arukh for guidance.
But a life of Torah is more than just a life founded upon halakhic
awareness. Along with the
commandments that comprise Halakha, Torah also includes a whole system of values
that establish the proper relationship between a person and God, the community,
and the world in general. A true
life of Torah is one in which the spirit of Halakha influences one beyond its
straightforward demands and prohibitions.
A person who lives a life of Torah understands that the Torah does more
than just delimit parameters of the permissible and the forbidden. It influences our attitudes towards all
areas of life, such as politics, economics, and spirituality.
A certain kippa-wearing professor one defined himself as an
“observant secular Jew.” This is
certainly an extreme and exaggerated definition, but it does reflect the
lifestyle of some people who call themselves “religious.” In their view, Torah
merely defines the playing field and establishes the “rules of the game” within
which life is to be lived. They
believe that one can think, feel and do as one pleases, as long as one does not
break any of the technical rules. A
true life of Torah is not a secular life that features the observance of the
commandments; rather, it is a life in which Torah is the “game” itself, not just
the framework of its rules. A
person may be a shoemaker, a physicist or an economist, but if Torah lives
within him and the focus of his life is the aspiration to “sit in God’s house
all the days of my life” – then this person lives a life of Torah. Such a person does not feel that Torah
limits or constricts his life; rather, he feels that it guides and inspires
him.
In this sense, a life of Torah is not just a life that is permissible
according to Torah, but a life with Torah at its center. In various contexts, the Gemara mentions
the definition of a person “whose profession is Torah” (e.g. Shabbat 11a). Two of the greatest Rishonim –
Ramah (Responsa, 248) and Rosh (Responsa, 15:8) – maintain that this definition
refers to anyone whose aspiration is to “sit in God’s house,” and who organizes
his life on the basis of this aspiration.
According to this definition, even a person who spends most of his day in
a laboratory, for example, and only sits down to learn Torah at the end of the
day – even this person may be considered one “whose profession is Torah.” This
status stems from his feeling that he engages in the other spheres because he
needs to – for his own benefit or for that of society – but his main desire is
to “dwell in God’s house all the days of his life.” Even if a person does not
devote his entire day to Torah study, the main question is how he relates to his
occupation and what he does with his free time.
What is common to all of these definitions is the negation of
contrast or distinction between Torah and life. Torah and life – by their very
definition – do not compete with one another. In its most perfect and ideal sense,
“life” is defined as such specifically when it is a life of Torah, hinging on
Torah values and on the aspiration towards involvement in Torah. Similarly, the ideal sense of “Torah” is
a Torah of life in that it addresses life, promotes life, and rewards those who
engage in it with eternal life. Any
approach that attempts to negate these definitions and to draw a distinction
between Torah and “true life” is alien to servants of God. Only a view that identifies true life as
a life of Torah can guide us on our spiritual path, on the road leading forever
upward towards the House of God.
(This sicha
was delivered in Summer 5761 [2001].)
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Torah Values and
Torah Commandments
By Harav
Yehuda
Amital
Translated by David
Strauss
I. The Binding Power
of Torah Values
The Torah obligates
us to observe 613 mitzvot, to which the Sages added the mitzvot
that are of rabbinic origin. It is very important to emphasize, however,
that our obligations are not exhausted by the mitzvot. The Torah also
embraces a system of values that impose obligations, even though they were never
formally formulated as commandments.
Torat Kohanim
states
(Kedoshim, parasha 2; cited in Talmud Yerushalmi,
Nedarim 9:4):
“And
you shall love your neighbor as yourself” (Vayikra 19:18). Rabbi Akiva
says: This is a great principle in the Torah.
Ben
Azai says: “This is the book of the generations of man” (Bereishit 5:1) –
This is an even greater principle.
According to Ben
Azai, the verse, “This is the book of the generations of man,” is an “even
greater principle,” perhaps because it relates not only to the Jewish people,
but to every person by virtue of his or her being human.
If, however, we are talking about “a great principle,” does it not seem more
reasonable to choose a verse dealing with a mitzva, such as, “And you shall love
your neighbor as yourself”? It seems, therefore, that while the verse, “This is
the book of the generations of man,” does not constitute a mitzva; it represents
a value that has binding force just like a mitzva.
The Gemara in Makkot (23b-24a) states:
Rabbi
Simla’i expounded: Six hundred and thirteen mitzvot were told to Moshe...
David
came and condensed them to eleven, as it is written: “A Psalm of David. Lord,
who shall abide in Your tent? Who shall dwell in Your holy hill? He that walks
uprightly, and acts justly, and speaks the truth in his heart. He that does not
slander with his tongue, nor does evil to his fellow, nor takes up a reproach
against his neighbor. In whose eyes a vile person is despised; but he honors
them that fear the Lord. He that swears to his own hurt, and changes not. He
that does not put out his money on interest, nor takes a bribe against the
innocent. He that does these things shall never be moved” (Tehillim
15:1-5)...
Yeshayahu
came and condensed them to six, as it is written: “He that walks righteously,
and speaks uprightly; he that despises the gain of oppressions, that shakes his
hands from holding of bribes, that stops his ears from hearing of blood, and
shuts his eyes from seeing evil” (Yeshayahu 33:15)...
Mikha
came and condensed them to three, as it is written: “He has told you, O man,
what is good; and what does the Lord require of you, but to do justice, and to
love goodness, and to walk humbly with your God” (Mikha
6:8).
Rashi explains (ad
loc.):
“And
he condensed them to eleven.” At first [the people] were righteous, and they
were able to accept upon themselves the burden of many mitzvot. But the
later generations were not as righteous, so that had they presumed to observe
them all, nobody would have been found worthy. Therefore, David came and
condensed them [to eleven], so that they should be found worthy if they observe
those eleven mitzvot. Similarly, later generations continued to reduce
them.
Even though Rabbi Simla’i opened with a reference to the 613
mitzvot, some of the things mentioned in connection with David,
Yeshayahu, and Mikha – such as “walking humbly with God” and “shutting one’s
eyes from seeing evil” – are not included among the six hundred and thirteen
commandments! The verses cited here deal not only with mitzvot, but also
with values – values that are an integral part of the Torah. Mikha reduced the
613 mitzvot to three values, and these values have binding force just
like mitzvot.
Rabbi Chayyim Vital develops a parallel idea regarding character traits
(Sha’ar Kedusha I:2):
The
good and bad traits depend on this soul; they are the seat, foundation, and root
of the rational soul, upon which depend the 613 mitzvot... It is for this
reason that the character traits are not included among the 613 mitzvot.
They serve, however, as the primary preparation for the 613 mitzvot...
because the rational soul is not strong enough to fulfill the 613 mitzvot
through the 613 organs of the body, but only through the fundamental soul that
is connected to the body itself... Hence, one must be more careful about bad
traits than about fulfilling the positive or negative precepts. For when a
person has good traits, he will easily fulfill all the
mitzvot.
The Torah does not
relate to positive character traits as commandments, but nevertheless Rabbi
Chayyim Vital sees them as being even more basic and fundamental than observance
of the mitzvot.
II. Values Derived
from the Torah
Many values were not
explicitly formulated as imperatives in the Torah, but nonetheless are an
inseparable part of it. The value of gratitude is derived from the verse: “You
shall not abhor an Egyptian, because you were a stranger in his land”
(Devarim 23:8). Hospitality is not an explicit mitzva, but it too is
derived from the Torah:
Hospitality is
greater than receiving the Divine Presence, as it is written [when Avraham spied
the three strangers while he was speaking with God] (Bereishit 18:3):
“And he said, My Lord, if now I have found favor in Your sight, pass not away, I
pray You, [from Your servant].” (Shabbat 127a)
The Gemara
(Berakhot 19b) attempts to derive the value of human dignity – about
which Chazal said: “So great is human dignity that it sets aside a
negative commandment in the Torah” (ibid.) – from the law governing the behavior
of the nazirite: “He shall not make himself unclean for his father, or for his
mother, for his brother, or for his sister, when they die” (Bamidbar
6:7):
“Or
for his sister” – what does the verse teach? If a person was going to slaughter
his paschal offering or to circumcise his son, and he heard that a relative
died, should he return and make himself unclean? It says: “He shall not make
himself unclean.”
Do
we say that just as he does not make himself unclean for them, so he does not
make himself unclean for a mitzva-corpse [a body with nobody available to bury
it]? Therefore the verse says: “Or for his sister” – for his sister he does not
make himself unclean, but he makes himself unclean for a
mitzva-corpse.
The Gemara ultimately
rejects this derivation, but we may still learn from here that in addition to
explicit mitzvot, there are also values which may be derived from the
Torah.
There are also certain values that are derived from scriptural stories,
through a study of biblical characters and their conduct. This seems to be the
meaning of the following Midrash (Bereishit Rabba
60:8):
Rabbi
Acha said: The ordinary conversation of the patriarchs’ servants is more
pleasing [to God] than the Torah of their children. The incident involving
Eliezer is two or three pages; it is stated [once as a narrative] and repeated
[in Eliezer’s conversation]. Whereas [the laws governing] a creeping creature
are an essential part of the Torah, but the law that its blood imparts ritual
impurity like its flesh is only derived by way of an extraneous element in
Scripture.
III. General
Values
Over and above the
specific values discussed above, the Torah also contains general values, which
are also endowed with binding force. The Ramban comments on the verse, “And you
shall do what is right and good” (Devarim 6:18):
Our
Rabbis have a beautiful midrash on this verse. They have said: “[‘That which is
right and good’] refers to compromise and going beyond the letter of the law.”
The intent of this is as follows: At first, he [Moshe] stated that you are to
keep His statutes and His testimonies which He commanded you, and now he is
stating that even where He has not commanded you, give thought, as well, to do
what is good and right in His eyes, for He loves the good and the right.
Now,
this is a great principle, for it is impossible to mention in the Torah all
aspects of man’s conduct with his neighbors and friends, and all his various
transactions, and the ordinances of all societies and countries. But since He
mentioned many of them – such as, “You shall not go up and down as a talebearer”
(Vayikra 19:16); “You shall not take vengeance, nor bear any grudge”
(ibid., v. 18); “Neither shall you stand idly by the blood of your neighbor”
(ibid., v. 16); “You shall not curse the deaf” (ibid., v. 15); “You shall rise
up before the hoary head” (ibid., v. 32) and the like – He reverted to state in
a general way that, in all matters, one should do what is good and right,
including even compromise and going beyond the requirements of the law.
Other
examples [of “good and right” behavior] are the Rabbis’ ordinances concerning
the bar metzra (the prerogative of a neighbor to receive preference in
buying a field adjacent to his, Bava Metzia 108a), and even what they
said [concerning the desirability] that one’s youthful reputation be
unblemished, and that one’s conversation with people be pleasant (Yoma
86a). Thus, [a person must seek to refine his behavior] in every form of
activity, until he is worthy of being called “good and
upright.”
Another general value
is that ensuring that “[The Torah’s] ways are ways of pleasantness, and all her
paths are peace” (Mishlei 3:17). The Gemara makes use of this principle
in several places, giving it clear halakhic weight. For example, the Gemara
rejects the possibility that the verse, “branches of palm trees, and the boughs
of thick leaved trees” (Vayikra 23:40), refers to thorny plants, because
such an identification would contradict the value that the Torah’s ways be
pleasant (Sukka 32a-b).
In a similar vein,
Rambam writes at the end of Hilkhot Chanuka (4:14):
If
such a poor man needs oil for both a Shabbat lamp and a Chanuka
lamp, or oil for a Shabbat lamp and wine for Kiddush, the
Shabbat lamp should have priority for the sake of domestic peace, seeing
that even a Divine name may be erased to make peace between husband and wife.
Great indeed is peace; the whole of the Law was given to bring peace upon the
world, as it is said: “Her ways are ways of pleasantness, and all her paths are
peace” (Mishlei 3:17).
Values such as these guided halakhic authorities in many cases throughout
the generations.
It is important to be aware of the existence of these and other values, for they
must be taken into account in practical decision-making.
In extreme cases, certain values are so important that they overpower, at
least temporarily, the obligation to perform certain mitzvot, when a
contradiction arises between a value and a mitzva. This is the meaning of the
rule: “It is time to act for the Lord; they have made void Your Torah”
(Tehillim 119:126), mentioned, for example, in Mishna Berakhot
(9:5):
It
was also enacted that greetings should be given in [God’s] name... And it also
says: “It is time to act for the Lord; they have made void Your Torah”
(Tehillim 119:126). Rabbi Natan says: [This means] they have made void
Your Torah because it is time to act for the Lord.
Rashi offers the
following explanation (Berakhot 54a):
We
must sometimes void the words of the Torah in order to act for the Lord. Here,
too, one who intends to greet his fellow fulfills the will of God, as it says:
“Seek peace and pursue it” (Tehillim 34:15). He is permitted to void the
Torah and do something that appears to be forbidden.
The value of greeting
one’s fellow is so important that it sets aside the prohibition of uttering
God’s name. This value is not defined as a mitzva, but it is regarded as “the
will of God.”
IV. “A Degenerate
within the Confines of the Torah”
A
lack of awareness regarding the importance of values, besides its effect on
halakhic decision-making, is liable to lead to additional problems as well. One
of the general values found in the Torah is the command: “You shall be holy”
(Vayikra 19:2). Ramban, in his commentary to that verse, explains why
this general command was necessary:
The
meaning thereof is as follows: The Torah has admonished us against immorality
and forbidden foods, but permitted sexual intercourse between man and his wife,
and the eating of [certain] meat and wine. If so, a man of desire could consider
this to be permission to be passionately addicted to sexual intercourse with his
wife or many wives, and be among “winebibbers, among gluttonous eaters of flesh”
(Mishlei 23:20), and speak all profanities freely, since this prohibition
has not been [expressly] mentioned in the Torah, and thus he will become a
degenerate within the confines of the Torah!
Therefore,
after having listed the matters which God prohibited altogether, Scripture
followed them up by a general command that we practice moderation even in
matters which are permitted...
Similarly,
he should keep himself away from impurity [in his ordinary daily activity], even
though we have not been admonished against it in the Torah, similar to that
which the Rabbis have said: “For the Pharisees, the clothes of the unlearned are considered
as if trodden upon by a zav” [or zava – a man or woman having
suffered a flux] (Chagiga 18b), and just as the nazirite is called “holy”
(Bamidbar 6:8) because he guards himself from the impurity of the dead.
Likewise, one should guard one’s mouth and tongue from being defiled by
excessive food and by lewd talk... And one should purify oneself in this
respect, until one reaches the degree known as complete “self-restraint,” as the
Rabbis said concerning Rabbi Chiyya, that never in his life did he engage in
unnecessary talk.
It
is with reference to these and similar matters that the general commandment
[“You shall be holy”] is concerned, after He had enumerated all individual deeds
which are strictly forbidden, so that cleanliness of hands and body are also
included in this precept, just as the Rabbis have said: “And you shall sanctify
yourselves” – this refers to the washing of hands before meals. “And you shall
be holy” – this refers to the washing of hands after meals... For although these
[washings] are commandments of rabbinic origin, Scripture’s main intention is to
warn us of such matters, so that we should be [physically] clean and ritually
[pure], and separated from the common people who soil themselves with luxuries
and unseemly things.
Ramban notes that it is possible to observe all the mitzvot of the
Torah, but nevertheless live a lifestyle that is totally contrary to Torah
values. A person who conducts his life in this manner is “a degenerate within
the confines of the Torah.” His path in life follows from the mistaken belief
that the Torah gives binding force only to the formal mitzvot, but not to
values.
We see this danger in the words of the Gemara in Kiddushin
(31a-b):
Avimi
the son of Rabbi Abahu taught: One can feed his father pheasants, and it drives
him out of the world; and one can make his father grind in the mill, and it
brings him to life in the world-to-come.
Rashi
explains:
“Pheasants”
– a valuable and fatty fowl, the species that fell in the
wilderness.
“And
it drives him out of the world” – he is punished for it, because he eyes [his
father] enviously regarding the meal.
“And
it brings him to the world-to-come” – because he shows him honor by speaking
nice and consoling words, and he casts the work upon him in a gentle tone,
showing him that it is a present necessity because they cannot support
themselves without this tiring work.
The
Yerushalmi cites an incident for each of them:
“An
incident involving one who would feed his father pheasants. Once, his father
said to him: ‘From where do you have all this?’ He said to him: ‘Old man, what
do you care, grind and eat,’ i.e., chew and eat, thus showing how hard it was
for him.
Another
incident involving one who would grind in the mill. He had an elderly father,
whom the king summoned for the king’s work. His son said to him: ‘Father, you
grind, and I will go in your stead for the king’s work, which has no set
limit.’”
This passage highlights the fact that the formal fulfillment of a mitzva
that does not give expression to its underlying value is liable to be very
negative, whereas an act that is not a formal mitzva can be very meaningful,
when accompanied by some expression of a value that the mitzva wishes to
realize.
V. The Need for Both
Systems
If values have
binding force like mitzvot, why then were we not commanded about values
in a direct manner, as we were commanded about the mitzvot? I wish to
suggest an answer to this question, based on the words of Rabbi Avraham Yitzchak
Kook (Iggerot Ha-Ra’aya, letter 89, p. 97):
Indeed,
the Patriarchs fulfilled the Torah out of free, internal recognition. This
benefit should not be missing from a great part of the moral realm. This is the
foundation of the hidden parts [of the Law] that emerge as traits of piety and
actions that go beyond the letter of the law. For had they come as mandatory
Halakha, they would have blurred the fixed guidelines, going ahead and
illuminating for all generations...
That
aspect of morality which must arise out of charity and the love of kindness must
always be the greater part of general positive morality, just as the open air is
in comparison with the buildings and cultural activities in them; it is
impossible that they should not leave it a very broad
expanse.
That
which must attach itself [to the Law] through voluntary giving of the spirit and
freedom of the good will must come as an act of piety. One cannot measure the
magnitude of the loss that human culture would suffer if these exalted virtues
were set as fixed obligations. Only
that which is most essential for present physical and moral life, and which, if
weakened, harms the roots of the future, becomes law, and [of this it is
written,] “Greater is he who is commanded and acts.” But that which penetrates
to the depth of good as it stands and spreads as dew of life... merits to be
fixed as voluntary and love of kindness. This is the fate of [duties] “beyond
the letter of the law,” which will be of great benefit when man’s heart of stone
will turn into a heart of flesh.
Therefore,
that part which remains beyond the letter of the law must perforce remain in
that state. As humanity elevates itself, the qualities of piety will go out from
the private to the public domain, and will belong to the entire people, and “all
your children shall be taught by the Lord.”
The ideal situation would have been for man to fulfill all the
mitzvot out of internal motivation, in the manner of the Patriarchs, and
not out of coercion. God anticipated which things man should fulfill out of
coercion, and which out of internal identification. Those things that were left
in the category of “pious behavior” and were not formally established as
mitzvot, remain connected to the moral development of the people. It is
of great importance that values stemming from moral characteristics should flow
from man’s internal self, and not from any external imperative.
Restricting oneself to formal adherence to the defined commandments and
codified law is likely to come at the cost of developing moral aspirations for
justice and uprightness. If the religious world of the individual Jew and the
Jewish people as a whole is restricted to formal molds, it will strangle
feelings of justice and uprightness. Leaving room for the moral personality of
the individual and the nation may lead to worship of God out of full moral
identification.
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