Written in memory of HaRav Chaim Sho'ul Karelitz,
zt'l, av beis din of Shearis Yisroel, who was
niftar on the twentieth of Tammuz, 5761.
I came across an exceptional passage in the commentary
Nimukei Yoseif on the Rif's Hilchos Sefer Torah
(which is also quoted by the Taz at the beginning of
Hilchos Sefer Torah in Yoreh Dei'ah siman 270):
"Rabbi Yehoshua bar Abba said in the name of Rav Gidal [who
was] speaking in Rav's name, `A person who buys a sefer
Torah in the market is like someone who grabs a mitzvah
in the marketplace. If [however,] he wrote one [i.e. a
sefer Torah,] the posuk considers it as though
he received it at Har Sinai.' Rav Yehudah said in Rav's name,
`Even if he only corrected one letter in it, the posuk
considers it as though he wrote [all of] it.' "
Two points require explanation. First, why should someone who
spends a vast sum buying a sefer Torah be regarded
[unfavorably] as having "grabbed a mitzvah from the
marketplace," merely because he didn't expend effort on the
mitzvah? And second, how can having written a sefer
Torah, or having had one written, be equated with having
actually gone and received the Torah personally?
In his explanation, the Nimukei Yoseif derives some
exceptionally novel ideas about the importance of taking
trouble and care over the physical performance of mitzvos. Of
the purchase of a sefer Torah, which Chazal compare to
grabbing a mitzvah in the marketplace, he explains, "The
reward is not as great as that of someone who put effort into
the writing, because the attribute of justice has grounds for
arguing that if the mitzvah had involved personal effort, he
would not have done it." However if he wrote it, or employed
a scribe to write it but took trouble himself over the
preparation of the parchment and dealing with the scribe,
even if only over one letter, "the posuk considers it
as though he wrote it and received it at Har Sinai . .
. because the attribute of mercy has grounds for arguing
that in the same way as he took this amount of trouble over
it, he would also have taken the trouble to travel to the
desert and receive the Torah at Sinai."
These elucidations of the relative merits of a mitzvah that
is performed without personal effort and one that is
performed with effort, constitute a very powerful indictment
of the failure to put effort and toil into the actual
performance of mitzvos -- if the mitzvah had cost some
effort, perhaps the person would not have done it at all! And
when a mitzvah is done with effort, there are grounds to
assume that the person would even have made the greater
effort to go into the desert in order to receive the
Torah.
In this statement, Chazal reveal that the performance of a
deed with effort is the sign of a strong wish to attain a
much higher level of achievement. On the other hand, we also
see how the absence of effort drastically reduces a deed's
significance.
In Michtav Mei'Eliyohu, HaRav Dessler writes in strong
terms about the great shortcoming of being a taker. He
comments that a taker who witnesses others doing acts of
kindness, does not believe what he is seeing. He tries very
hard to work out what it is they want to gain from their
actions because his starting premise is that everybody
resembles him and is ignorant of what it means to show
kindness to another person. Therefore, he reasons, they must
be seeking something in return.
Rav Dessler concludes, "How valuable is genuine association
between people, when people are friendly towards one another
without hoping to receive favors in return . . . befriending
someone for the sake of gain is tantamount to taking and it
leads to divisiveness, for the friend will want something in
return and the bond will degenerate (for there is no true
brotherhood or comradeship in it). Associating with others
purely for the sake of brotherhood and friendship is
something very great."
It occurred to me that nowadays, we are very remiss (myself
included) in this respect. Somewhere inside, a voice whispers
to us, "Cast your bread upon the water . . . " We tell
ourselves, "I'll do him a favor now; perhaps he'll do
something for me."
The truth is that it's very hard to fight this feeling. How
many times does it happen that in the course of doing a deed
of great kindness, the thought steals into our minds:
"Perhaps I'll derive some benefit from this in return; he
owes me a big favor in return for what I'm doing for him . .
. " Obviously, this cannot be considered doing kindness
purely for the sake of helping someone else.
My friends, dear readers, we all want Hashem's attribute of
mercy to be able to come and testify that we performed our
mitzvos with effort and that, "had it been necessary to go to
even greater lengths, we would have done so, to the point of
going to the Sinai Desert."
There are many different sorts of acts of kindness that one
can do, which do not involve any taint of hoping for
something in return. Instead of the attribute of judgment
saying, "If not for the expectation of X he would not
have done it," the attribute of mercy will testify that had
it been necessary for him to do even more, he would have done
so.
Take for example, the mitzvos of comforting mourners and
visiting the sick, which can be done without undue
difficulty. In the first case, the heart of the mitzvah is to
speak to the mourners personally, to encourage them, to
comfort them in their distress and to speak from our hearts
so that they feel that we are also in pain because of their
sorrow. It is related that when HaRav Shimshon Pincus
zt'l, entered a house of mourning, he would simply
weep like a child over the tragedy, without saying a word.
When one can be at the sick person's side, visiting the sick
too, speaking to the patient and taking his mind off his
pain, is tantamount to bringing him back to life. I speak
from experience.
One of my very dear acquaintances was badly hurt in a road
accident. I visited him several times and spent a number of
hours discussing spiritual and worldly topics concerning the
Torah world and its importance. He told me that I had revived
him and literally brought him back to life. It involved a
certain amount of effort -- for example the travelling -- but
I revived him. He was transformed.
There are even simpler ways of taking trouble and doing
things to help others. Most of us live in apartment buildings
and have many neighbors. Consider: maybe one of the boys in
the building needs help with his learning? Look around, maybe
someone has dropped out of yeshiva? Invite him over to help
and encourage him. Such acts are basic tzedokoh. In
Shaarei Teshuvoh (shaar III, mitzvah 13), Rabbeinu
Yonah explains, "Giving tzedokoh from one's money and
doing acts of kindness both personally and with one's money --
for a person is obliged to make efforts towards seeking the
benefit of his people and to apply himself with personal toil
to his friend's well-being, whether he is poor or rich. This
is one of the most serious obligations which a person is
called upon to fulfill."
Take the example of another mitzvah -- learning Torah with
one's sons. If we put effort into learning with them until
they understand properly, the attribute of mercy says, "This
person toils and labors over learning with his son. It's
clear that if more were needed, he'd do even more. Just as he
takes this trouble, he would also go into the desert to
receive the Torah from Har Sinai . . . "
While mentioning taking trouble over learning with children,
it is very opportune to quote the wonderful comments of the
Netziv zt'l, in his commentary Ha'amek Dovor on
Chumash (parshas Bechukosai, 26:9): "And I will turn
to you and I will multiply you . . . and my covenant with
you will endure." The Netziv writes that "I will turn to you"
refers to the subsequent words "and I will multiply you,"
which promise many offspring. Hitherto, the pesukim
have spoken about things that come through Hashem's direct
Providence in their own appointed times, such as blessings on
the various crops in their relevant seasons and the
vanquishing of enemies in wartime -- things which do not
require a blessing each and every day. From this point on
however, the posuk speaks about the blessing of sons
and raising them "which requires direct Providence" and
blessing "at every moment." This is why the Torah introduces
this blessing with the promise "And I will turn to you" which
is explained as meaning that, "All my attention, as it were,
will be devoted to you."
What powerful words regarding the continual supervision that
is necessary with the blessing of sons and in their
upbringing! Hakodosh Boruch Hu turns away from all His
other concerns, as it were, and gives us his attention
continuously, because this -- constant Providence -- is what
is needed for their upbringing. The other things mentioned in
the parsha need seasonal or periodical blessing but
not so child rearing. Dear fathers, realize what an
obligation this magnificent gaon's words place upon
us!
We shall end with the profound comments of the Chovos
Halevovos regarding the extent of a father's obligation to
thank Hashem by learning with his son, this being the way we
express our gratitude to Him.
In Shaar Avodas Ho'Elokim (perek 6), Rabbeinu Bachyei
writes that the more good that Hashem bestows upon a person,
the more that person is obliged to work on his
acknowledgement of it. The obligation of giving
ma'aser is an example of this. If Hakodosh Boruch
Hu gives a man one hundred tons of produce, he must give
ten tons of it away as ma'aser. If he only has ten
tons, he must give one of them away. If the first man only
gives nine and a half tons, he has not fulfilled his
obligation and he will be punished for it, whereas the second
man would be rewarded for giving so much.
At this point he writes that a person's gratitude to
Hakodosh Boruch Hu for having given him a son is of a
completely different nature and exceeds that of someone who
has a hundred tons . . . if he gives less, he is not
fulfilling his duty.
May Hashem yisborach always enable us to perform His
mitzvos with joy and effort, so that the attribute of mercy
will come and testify that if necessary, we would have gone
all the way to Har Sinai!
