Featured

Fear of Heaven – Parshat Eikev

Printable PDF available here. Previous pieces on Parshat Eikev are available here and here.

Rav Kook (Based on Musar Avicha, 1:3)

“And now, O Israel, what does the Lord your G-d demand of you? Only this – to fear the Lord your G-d, to walk only in His paths, to love Him, and to serve the Lord your G-d with all your heart and soul.” (Devarim 10:12)

Torah literature contains two terms – fear of sin (lit. יראת חטא) and fear of heaven (lit. יראת שמים) – that are often used interchangeably. But do they actually mean the same thing, or are they meant to capture different aspects of religious life? And more importantly, what exactly is the content of this “fear” that our tradition holds up as a primary religious value?

To answer this question, we must realize that the acts of the holy and chosen nation of Israel resonate in the highest levels of reality. The deeper wisdom of the Torah teaches that our deeds have the power to build up the spiritual architecture of the universe or tear it down. The laws of the Torah are not simply pronouncements that we must obey by virtue of Divine fiat. Rather, they are part of the warp and woof of reality.

It follows that every time we act in accordance with the Torah and its G-dly truth, we bind ourselves to a Divine repository of life and goodness. When our will aligns with the Divine will, we experience a sense of completeness and discover ourselves fitting to bask in G-d’s supernal and all-encompassing light. This illumination is neither a ‘prize’ nor a reward dangled in front of us as a motivation to follow G-d’s laws. It is simply the result of living in in a state of completion and in harmony with the ultimate reality.

Conversely, violating the dictates of the Torah results in estrangement from this ultimate goodness. Instead of living in alignment with the highest Divine wisdom, one’s soul becomes permeated with a corrupted and discordant state of being. Deep down, all of reality strives to rise to its supernal source, but he is running in the opposite direction. His soul is damaged and pained, much like a car’s engine becomes devastated when the car is moving forward and the driver abruptly switches gears to ‘Reverse.’

In reality, a person actually experiences two different sensations as a result of defying G-d’s will. He feels the damage he has done to his soul. But just as acutely, he feels the pain of knowing that he is unfit to partake of G-d’s light and splendor.

This is the meaning of the two terms whose meaning we set out to analyze – fear of sin (lit. יראת חטא) and fear of heaven (lit. יראת שמים). Fear of sin is the fear of harming one’s soul, of rendering it deficient and incomplete. Fear of heaven refers to the trepidation regarding the pain and shame of distancing oneself from the Divine light.

Featured

Going Short or Long (But Not on Wall Street) – Parshat Eikev

1*3SAWEV0Q5P8x2i6eY6ht1A.jpeg

Printable PDF available here. Last year’s piece on Parshat Eikev is available here.

Rav Kook (Ein Ayah, Berachot 34a)

“So I fell down before the Lord the forty days and the forty nights that I had fallen down; because the Lord had said to destroy you.” (Devarim 9:4)

Once, a student served as shaliach tzibur in the presence of Rabbi Eliezer, and he was excessively long in his prayer. His students complained and said to R. Eliezer: “How long-winded he is!” He said to them, “Is this student prolonging his prayer any more than Moshe, about whom it is written that he prayed for forty days and forty nights? Another time, a student served as shaliach tzibur in the presence of Rabbi Eliezer, and he was excessively short in his prayer. His students complained and said to R. Eliezer, “How short is his prayer!” He said to them, “Is this student shortening his prayer any more than Moshe, about whom it is written (Bamidbar 12:13) when he prayed to G-d to cure Miriam from her tzara’at, that he said “Please, G-d, heal her, please!’” (Gemara Berachot 34a)

What are our Sages trying to teach us about the essence of prayer? It cannot be just an idle curiosity that at one time, Moshe davened at length for forty days, and another time, he kept his prayer short. And what is the significance of the number forty?

To answer these questions, we have to understand that the spiritual purpose of prayer unfolds in two different dimensions. On one level, prayer is an attempt to change things, but not G-d’s mind, like many superficially assume. It is directed at transforming our very selves and uplifting our spiritual consciousness – or, when we pray on behalf of others, at transforming and uplifting them as well. Like all growth and development, this change can only take place gradually, as part of a process.

This was the nature of Moshe’s prayer in the wake of the Golden Calf, when he sought to impress a new character and a new heart upon the nation that had become sullied by sin. This explains why he prayed for forty days specifically. Our Sages teach that the basic formation of a fetus takes forty days, and by association, Moshe’s forty-day prayer was part of his attempt at national spiritual rebirth.

However, there is another type of prayer that focuses not on transforming the self, but on giving expression to one’s deepest spiritual needs and longings. In this modality, prayer is an opportunity for a person to verbalize what is transpiring in the depths of his soul. This modality is an opportunity for one to “pour out” his soul, and not for him to “fill up” their vessels.

This type of prayer does not demand a great length of time, as the feelings and emotions given expression are already present in the soul, simply waiting for an opportunity to burst forth. This is typified by Moshe’s prayer on behalf of Miriam, which was exceedingly short in length. This prayer reflected Moshe’s love and concern for his sister, which was already latent in his heart.

We now appreciate Rabbi Eliezer’s teaching about the length of prayer. “Long prayer” and “short prayer” are not simply quantitative categories that are established by a stopwatch. They represent two different spiritual worlds, two different modalities of prayer to G-d. Rabbi Eliezer taught his students that both are important and necessary. And as long as one’s heart is directed toward G-d, he should not be criticized for adopting one modality instead of another.

Food for Thought

Rav Samson Raphael Hirsch (Commentary on the Torah, Bereishit 20:7): התפלל means to take the element of G-d’s truth, make it penetrate all phases and conditions of our being and our life, and thereby gain for ourselves the harmonious even tenor of our whole existence in G-d. Jewish tefilah is accordingly, the most complete contrast to what is generally called “prayer.” It is not an outflowing from within, an expression of that with which the heart is already filled – for that we have other expressions (siach, techinah, etc.) – but it is a renewed intake and penetration of truth which come from outside. If our prayers were not tefilah, if our praying were not התפלל, working on our inner self to bring it on the heights of recognition of the Truth, and to resolutions for serving G-d, there would be no sense in having fixed times and prescribed forms for them. For this assumes that periodically at fixed times the masses of a community are always filled with one and the same state of feelings, one and the same trend of thoughts. Yea, such prayers would be rather superfluous. Feelings and thoughts which are already lively within us have no need first to be expressed, and least of all in set phrases placed in our hands. When the heart is full it can always find its own way to express itself, or it can be so full, that words, mere words, mean nothing, and inarticulate silence is the only expression of such depths of feeling. Hence our prescribed prayers are not facts, truths, which they assume we are already fully conscious of, but are such that they wish to awaken, reanimate and keep ever afresh in us. One can truly say that the less we feel inclined to prayers, the greater is the necessity for saying them, the greater the importance, the greater the effect on us, of the work which we have to accomplish on ourselves by tefilah. The lack of the inclination for it is itself the clearest sign of the clouding over and darkening of that spirit and that recognition of the great Truth which does not assume us to have, but which it is rather to create, animate and set right in us.

Rav Soloveitchik (Worship of the Heart): [A]s we have explained, prayer is a vital necessity for the religious individual. He cannot conceal his thoughts and his feelings, his vacillations and his struggles, his yearnings and his wishes, his despair and his bitterness – in a word, the great wealth
stored away in his religious consciousness – in the depths of his soul. Suppressing liturgical expression is simply impossible: prayer is a necessity. Vital, vibrant religiosity can­not sustain itself without prayer. In sum, prayer is justified because it is impossible to exist without it.

Rav Soloveitchik (The Lonely Man of Faith): Prayer likewise consists not only of an awareness of the presence of G-d, but of an act of committing oneself to G-d and accepting His ethico-moral authority. Who is qualified to engage G-d in the prayer colloquy? Clearly, the person who is ready to cleanse himself of imperfection and evil. Any kind of injustice, corruption, cruelty, or the like desecrates the very essence of the prayer adventure, since it encases man in an ugly little world into which G-d is unwilling to enter. If man craves to meet G-d in prayer, then he must purge himself of all that separates him from G-d. The Halakhah has never looked upon prayer as a separate magical gesture in which man may engage without integrating it into the total pattern of his life. G-d hearkens to prayer if it rises from a heart contrite over a muddled and faulty life and from a resolute mind ready to redeem this life. In short, only the committed person is qualified to pray and to meet G-d.

Prayer is always the harbinger of moral reformation. This is the reason why prayer per se does not occupy as prominent a place in the Halakhic community as it does in other faith communities, and why prayer is not the great religious activity claiming, if not exclusiveness, at least centrality. Prayer must always be related to a prayerful life which is consecrated to the realization of the divine imperative, and as such it is not a separate entity, but the sublime prologue to Halakhic action.

Questions for Discussion

  1. Rav Kook gives one explanation for why someone might choose “lengthy prayer” over “short prayer.” Can you think of any others?
  2. Why is it so hard to daven?
  3. Do Rav Kook’s insights resolve the philosophical problem of praying in order to change G-d’s mind?
  4. See Rav Hirsch above in “Food for Thought.” Is he saying the total opposite of Rav Kook, or are they in partial agreement?
  5. How exactly does prayer transform a person, as Rav Kook claims?
Featured

HaMeleh baSadeh – Parshat Ekev

qevr10234669.jpg

Printable PDF available here.

Ein Ayah (Gemara Berachot 10b)

Beware when you eat and be full[1]and build good houses and dwell therein, and your herds and your flocks multiply, and your silver and gold increase, and all that you have increases, lest your heart grow haughty, and you forget the Lord, your G-d… and say to yourself, ‘My strength and the might of my hand has made this wealth.’ You must remember the Lord your G-d, for it is He who gives you the ability to prosper (lit. כח לעשות חיל), in order to establish His covenant that He swore to your forefathers…. (Devarim 8:12-13, 17-18)

As Israel stood on the threshold of Eretz Yisrael, Moshe warned them of the spiritual dangers to come. In the desert, G-d’s presence was palpable and the people were sustained by miracles. No human effort or initiative was required. The people were unconcerned with planting, plowing, building, and conquering. That period was coming to an end, but the people would still have to remain faithful to G-d and see His hand in their prosperity.

As noted by Rabbeinu Nissim of Gerona (Spain, 1320-1376),[2]Moshe did not say that G-d gives “prosperity,” but rather “the ability to prosper” (lit. כח לעשות חיל). There is a big difference. Moshe was not denying the significance of human initiative and hard work (a.k.a. hishtadlut). He was reminding Israel that hishtadlut is itself the greatest evidence of G-d’s guiding hand. Now, this may seem counterintuitive. Isn’t hishtadlut part of the system by which G-d’s hides His involvement? Isn’t His presence far more apparent when He performs miracles?

However, consider the fact that miracles are fleeting, by their very nature. They are like a bolt of lightning that brightens the darkness, illuminates the landscape for a brief moment, and then fades back to darkness. However, when one encounters G-d through the natural order, every moment is an opportunity for a renewed encounter with the Divine. For, as Moshe taught, G-d is the one who gives us the ‘כח לעשות חיל’. The wisdom required for human beings to plan, develop and accomplish comes from Him, as do the necessary physical strength and raw materials. G-d’s blessing and beneficence are present at every stage of hishtadlut– and not just in the end result, like we so often assume. We can accomplish tremendous things with our abilities, but Who gave us those abilities in the first place?

When the Jewish people partake of bread through difficult labor in their fields – or, for that matter, their stores or offices – they have a greater opportunity for encountering G-d than the generation of the midbar, who received their livelihood supernaturally and without effort.[3]Thus, hishtadlut is neither a punishment nor an illusion. When viewed in the proper perspective, it is an opportunity for continually encountering G-d.

However, attaining this perspective requires a degree of ethical and religious sensitivity that cannot be achieved instantaneously. It is not an easy matter. If the Jewish people are not spiritually mature, hishtadlut can make them coarse and prideful. Instead of attaining Divine consciousness, the people will be blind to G-d’s blessings. Instead[4] of ואכלת ושבעת וברכת את ה׳ אלוקיך, the result will be ואכל ושבע ודשן ופנה אל אלהים אחרים ועבדום.

This deeper understanding can help us resolve the multitude of contradictions about whether hishtadlut is an ideal way of life for the Jewish people.[5]The answer is that all depends on the spiritual state of a generation. The Exodus and the period of the midbar were Israel’s spiritual infancy.[6]An abundance of hishtadlut would have distanced them from G-d, and so open miracles abounded. However, after forty years, the people had reached a level of spiritual and ethical maturity. They no longer needed to be passive recipients of G-d’s kindness, and so G-d gradually weaned them from His miracles. Indeed, we find that the conquest of Eretz Yisrael took place largely through the natural order and diligent application of military strategy.[7]

However, by the period of the Shoftim, the people had lost the proper perspective on hishtadlut. They no longer adequately perceived the Divinity of the natural order. Thus, on the eve of Gidon’s battle with the Midianites (Shoftim, Chapter 7), Hashem insisted on minimizing their hishtadlut. He demanded that Gidon send most of his soldiers away – “The people with you are too numerous for Me to deliver the Midianites into their hand, lest Israel boast ‘My own hand has saved me.’”

[1]Notice the parallelism between the dangers of פן תאכל ושבעת and the earlier imperative of ואכלת ושבעת וברכת את ה׳אלקיך.

[2]Derashot haRan (Derush10).

[3]See Gemara Shabbat (31a), which expounds the following verse in Isaiah as referring to the six orders of the mishnah – והיה אמונת עתיך חסן ישועות חכמת ודעת, יראת ה’ היא אוצרו. The gemara interprets the word אמונותas a reference to סדר זרעים, which deals with agricultural mitzvot. The midrash, cited by Tosafot, explains the connection – שהוא מאמין בחיי העולם וזורע.

[4]Devarim 8:10, 31:20.

[5]Rav Kook alludes to the possibility that the guidelines for individual (as opposed to collective) hishtadlut may be different. וצריך עיון.

[6]In a portion not translated above, Rav Kook references a pasuk in Hoshea (11:10), which describes Israel’s early years as its ‘youth’– ‘כי נער ישראל ואהבהו וממצרים קראתי לבני’. Rav Kook notes that G-d dealt with the Jewish people like a parent. A young child has all of his needs provided for. However, the state of total dependence is not meant to last. The ultimate goal is for a parent to teach a child to function independently, to be able to support himself. (How many of us know people whose life skills and personal development were stifled because of overreliance on parental support?)

[7]In particular, Rav Kook mentions the battle to conquer Ai (Yehoshua, Chapter 8), where the text strongly emphasizes the extent of Yehoshua’s military strategy.

Food for Thought

Rabbi Jonathan Sacks (Parshat Shelach 5772): Most of the commentators assume that the spies were guilty of a failure of nerve, or faith, or both… However, in the Hassidic literature… an entirely different line of interpretation emerged, reading the text against the grain to dramatic effect so that it remains relevant and powerful today. According to their interpretation, the spies were well-intentioned. They were, after all, “princes, chieftains, leaders” (Num. 13:2-3). They did not doubt that Israel could win its battles with the inhabitants of the land. They did not fear failure; they feared success. Their concern was not physical but spiritual. They did not want to leave the wilderness. They did not want to become just another nation among the nations of the earth. They did not want to lose their unique relationship with G-d in the reverberating silence of the desert, far removed from civilization and its discontents… Here they were close to G-d, closer than any generation before or since. He was a palpable presence in the Sanctuary in their midst, and in the clouds of glory that surrounded them. Here His people ate manna from heaven and water from the rock and experienced miracles daily. So long as they stayed in the desert under G-d’s sheltering canopy, they did not need to plough the earth, plant seeds, gather harvests, defend a country, run an economy, maintain a welfare system, or shoulder any of the other earthly burdens and distractions that take peoples’ minds away from the Divine…

[But] Judaism is not a religion of monastic retreat from the world. It is supremely a religion of engagement with the world. The Torah is a template for the construction of a society with all its gritty details: laws of warfare and welfare, harvests and livestock, loans and employer-employee relationships, the code of a nation in its land, part of the real world of politics and economics, yet somehow pointing to a better world where justice and compassion, love of the neighbor and stranger, are not remote ideals but part of the texture of everyday life. G-d chose Israel to make His presence visible in the world, and that means that Israel must live in the world. The Jewish task is not to fear the real world but to enter and transform it. That is what the spies did not understand. Do we – Jews of faith – understand it even now?

Midrash (Eichah Rabbah): When faced with war, Dovid HaMelech said: “I will pursue my enemies and overtake them, and will not return until they are destroyed” (Tehillim 18:38)… [Later] Assa stood up and implored Hashem, “I do not possess the strength to kill them. Rather, I will pursue them and You will kill them.” Hashem accepted his prayer, as it says “Assa and the people with him pursued them to Gerar, and the Ethiopians fell… for they were crushed before Hashem and before His camp” (Divrei haYamim II, 14:12). [Later] when Yehoshafat waged war against Ammon, he said “I do not possess the strength to pursue or kill. I will simply sing songs of praise to You, and You will fight the war.” Hashem accepted his prayer as well, as it says “As soon as they began their exuberant song and praise, G-d set up ambushers against the Children of Ammon, Moab, and Mount Seir who were attacking Yehuda, and they were struck down” (Divrei haYamim II, 20:22). [Later] Hezekiah said “I do not possess the strength to pursue or to kill or to sing songs of praise. I will sleep in my bed while You wage war.” Hashem accepted this prayer as well, as it says “On that very night, an angel of G-d went out and struck down 185,000 people in the Assyrian camp” (Melachim II, 19:35).

Rav Ya’akov Yosef of Ostroha (Rav Yeivai, cited in Bitachon v’Histadlut): When a person makes effort to save himself from troubles, instead of relying on complete bitachon, Hashem removes His assistance and says ‘You really think you can save yourself on your own?! I will withhold My help and you’ll see how things work out.’ But when a person is מסיח דעת and says “What’s the point of doing anything? Hashem will do whatever he wants” – then Hashem will help him.

Questions for Discussion

  1. Can you think of a time when you felt G-d’s hand in something that one or your accomplishments or successes?
  2. Do Rav Kook’s insights on hishtadlut enhance the religious value of Zionism and the State of Israel? If so, how?
  3. Is Rav Kook’s understanding of hishtadlut counterintuitive to you? Why or why not?
  4. Rav Kook sees tremendous religious value in hishtadlut, whereas certain other Torah thinkers regard it as a temptation, an illusion, or a curse. What are some practical differences between these two perspectives?
  5. What can we do to better perceive Hashem’s involvement in the natural order?
  6. Take a look at the midrash in Eichah Rabbah, cited above. How does it support Rav Kook’s thesis?