The gemora (Beitzah 38) brings the following: "Rabbi
Abba said: `May it be the Will of Hashem that I speak words
that will be accepted (by my audience)." Rashi there
explains, "That I will not be shamed."
No public speaker is interested in being shamed. I am
inclined to think that Rabbi Abba intended an additional
point in his tefilloh, that is, that his words prove
useful and strengthen his listeners, thus fulfilling the
purpose for which they were spoken. This is also my request
before Hashem: May my words serve as a bit of chizuk
to all of you chosheve listeners: Be happy that you
have merited to understand the tremendous zchus of
using these vacation days for learning the heilige
Torah!
The masechta of the Yarchei Kallah this year is
masechta Brochos. This morning we have learned the
fourth perek. Let us take a look what is written
there, to strengthen us: "A loss that can no longer be
fixed." (Koheles 1:15) This posuk is referring
to a case where a person's friends were included in a dvar
mitzvah and he was not. (Brochos 26a). Boruch
Hashem, we have all merited to be included in a group of
osei mitzvah, thus fulfilling that which Dovid
Hamelech wrote: "I am a friend to all those who fear You"
(Tehillim 119).
I have been asked to say divrei chizuk on the topic of
limud haTorah, the reason we have all gathered here
today. Let us begin with a chosheve idea of the
Chofetz Chaim zt"l. In the mishna (Ovos 4:12)
it states in the name of Rabbi Meir: "If you have idled from
Torah learning, there are many more occasions of idleness
confronting you. If you have toiled in Torah, He has great
reward to grant you." We must understand: what are those many
further occasions of idleness that will confront us if we
have idled once from Torah study? Moreover, for what reason
would we be earning such great reward if we do toil in
Torah?
The Chofetz Chaim explains as follows: If one has occupied
himself with Torah whenever possible, he will be able to
excuse himself for the time he did not manage to learn, as if
he was an oness. He was forced to stop learning and it
was not his fault. Hashem will thus deem this instance
comparable to the Talmudic phrase: "If one had intended to
perform a mitzvah and, due to circumstances beyond his
control, he was unable to, it is considered as if he did
indeed perform that mitzvah (Brochos 6a). In a similar
vein: "A good intention is considered by Hakodosh Boruch
Hu as if one has actually accomplished the good deed"
(Kiddushin 40a).
Therefore, for a day of limud HaTorah one receives
great reward even for the time which he did not learn. Even
the time during which we could not study Torah goes into the
category of "one who is not at fault, Hakodosh Boruch
Hu pardons him" (Bava Kammo 28b).
Conversely, one who idles from his Torah study when it is
indeed possible for him to learn, "he will have many other
occasions of idleness confronting him." Even those times that
he did not learn because it was not possible for him, will
now stand up in accusation and he will be punished for them,
too. He no longer has the excuse of an "oness due to
circumstances beyond his control." For even when
circumstances were in his control, and he had an
opportunity to learn, he did not take advantage of the
opportunity.
Rav Idi used to travel for three months in each direction and
spend one day in the yeshiva. The Rabbonim used to call him
"the yeshiva student for one day" (Chagigah 5b). Rashi
there explains: The distance from Rav Idi's home to the
beis medrash required a traveling time of three
months. He traveled from his home after Pesach and learned
for one day in the beis medrash. He then turned around
to go home for Succos and gladden his wife.
The Maharsha considers Rashi's pshat difficult. After
all, wouldn't it be preferable for Rav Idi to remain in his
hometown and learn for a complete six months undisturbed,
even without his rov?
Therefore, the Maharsha offers another explanation: Rav Idi
used to travel to a distant town to make a living (not to
study Torah). He only had one day in between trips to learn.
It was thus not possible for him to learn in the beis
medrash more than this one day.
Yet, in light of the above, we can now understand how Rabbi
Yochonon encouraged this one day of learning in the
continuation of the gemora. Rabbi Yochonon's heart
burst forth in homily, and he expounded on a posuk in
Yeshayohu (58) "And they seek Me day by day": "One who
occupies himself with Torah even for one day of the year, is
considered as if he has studied Torah the entire year."
Surely, the explanation of the Chofetz Chaim applies to this
saying as well. Because Rav Idi did indeed learn on the one
day he had available, it would now be considered as if he had
learned on all other days as well, even if he did not
actually do so.
We find similar correct conduct by Yosef Hatzaddik. "And it
was like that day, and he (Yosef) came to the house to do his
work. (Bereishis 39:11)" Rashi quotes Chazal that the
day was an Egyptian idol-worship holiday, and as a result
even Yosef was not preoccupied with his ordinary tasks. For
what purpose, then, did Yosef come to Potifar's home "to do
his work"? The Zohar explains (237) that Yosef came to
preoccupy himself with Torah and mitzvos, which is man's
occupation in This World. Torah is the main career of every
Yid.
Specifically for this reason it is called "his work."
Although Yosef Hatzaddik was engaged in other tasks on
ordinary days, he nevertheless understood that Torah was his
main and primary occupation. Consequently, on the day that he
was free of his ordinary jobs, he made sure to learn Torah,
thus involving himself in his primary career.
Fortunate are we all that we have merited engaging ourselves
in a good business deal! By studying Torah full-time in
today's Yarchei Kallah, we are gaining tremendous
sechar, and will be considered as if we have occupied
ourselves with Torah throughout the entire year! Throughout
the year, we are in the category of oness because we
cannot be fully occupied with Torah study. Yet, by taking
advantage of these vacation days, we are demonstrating our
genuine desire to indeed be immersed in Torah at all
times.
*
However, we must be extremely careful! During the
tefillos of the Yomim Noraim, we repeatedly
pray, "Al Cheit shechotonu lefonecho be'oness." This
demands explanation: Haven't we just mentioned that Hashem
pardons an oness? If so, why are we asking forgiveness
for oness?
We can answer this question with another gemora: "When
Rabbi Eliezer fell ill, Rabbi Akiva and his colleagues came
to visit him. Rabbi Eliezer asked them, `What is the purpose
of your coming?' They answered, `We came to learn Torah.'
`Why have you not come until now?' he asked them. The
tannaim answered that they did not have free time
until then. Rabbi Eliezer's response was: `I will be shocked
if any of you will die a natural death!' Rabbi Akiva asked,
`What will my death be like?' Answered Rabbi Eliezer, `Your
death will be the worst of them all' " (Sanhedrin
68a).
We must study Rabbi Eliezer's response. The tannaim's
answer was that they had not had free time up until then to
come visit him. No one would dare suspect Rabbi Akiva and his
colleagues of falsehood; they were obviously being truthful.
Why should they deserve such a harsh punishment?
The answer lies in the fact that a person must always be
exceedingly careful when saying, "I am an oness, I had
no time, I didn't feel so well, circumstances were beyond my
control, I was forced into this, etc. etc." Definitely, if
one is truly an oness he will not be held responsible
for not accomplishing that which he couldn't. Yet often, with
just a bit more hishtadlus or a bit more energy, a
little more interest or responsibility, a greater desire and
stronger will to do more, there would have been greater
possibilities of accomplishment. Therefore, what one might
have considered an oness is not necessarily really an
oness.
Our tefilloh to Hashem is to forgive for the instances
that we wrongfully deemed oness, which in reality were
not. What we have considered as an oness may not
necessarily have been that. Furthermore, our wrongful
assessment of a situation as "being forced into it," is in
itself an aveiroh.
In light of this explanation, we can now understand the reply
of Rabbi Akiva and his colleagues. They may not have had free
time to come visit Rabbi Eliezer up until then. Yet, had they
exerted themselves just a bit more, they would have been able
to find the time. That was their mistake.
Let us take a deeper look at this awesome tanna Rabbi
Akiva, whose great name traveled from one end of the world to
the other (Yevomos 16a). Not once in his life did he
ever say that the time had come to leave the beis medrash
(Pesochim 109a). This is the Rabbi Akiva who learned with
tremendous hasmodoh for twenty-four years,
uninterrupted . . . (Kesuvos 63a, Nedorim 50a). This
is the Rabbi Akiva who delved so deeply and diligently into
the Torah — yet this was the Rabbi Akiva who did not
die a natural death.
At the time when he would publicly gather great crowds and
teach them Torah, he was arrested. Eventually, after his
imprisonment, he died a horrible, painful death. His fate was
so harsh, all because up until a specific time he had not
come to learn (even more) from Rabbi Eliezer. What he and his
colleagues had considered oness was not truly so,
according to their lofty madreigoh.
Let us return once more to the story of Yosef Hatzaddik. When
his brothers deserted him, Yosef was thrown into a pit which
did not contain water but was filled with snakes and
scorpions. Chazal teach us that Yosef was crying.
At first glance, his cries in the pit are not hard to
understand. After all, isn't that a natural reaction? Yet,
our heilige Chazal teach us the truth about Yosef's
tears: He did not have much he could do in this pit. He had
no responsibilities here that disturbed or excused him from
limud haTorah. What could he then be obligated and
desire to do? His wish was to do the same which he would do
on that future day, the Egyptian holiday. He would review and
learn what his father Yaakov had taught him. (Yalkut
146).
Only this is what he thought of and wished to do. Yet, due to
his great fear, he (temporarily) forgot his father's
teachings — and for this he wept.
Imagine! Wouldn't we assume that even had he remembered what
he had learned, he still would not be obligated to learn
Torah under such circumstances? Is there any greater
oness than this? Moreover, if he had indeed forgotten
his father's teachings, would he be held accountable? Yet,
the great Yosef Hatzaddik was actually distraught at his
being driven to circumstances in which he could not learn
Torah.
In a similar vein, we find that Yehoshua bin Nun, during the
night between two days of battle, had a vision of the
Heavenly Warrior Angel.(Yehoshua 5:13) The Angel was
standing facing Yehoshua, his sword drawn (to indicate that
Yehoshua was deserving of death). The Angel accosted him,
"Yesterday, you were mevatel the korbon Tomid
of the afternoon, and today you have idled in
Torah!(Eruvin 63b). To this, Yehoshua replied, "For
which of these accusations have you appeared to me?" Answered
the Mal'ach, "I have appeared to you now." This indicated
that the Mal'ach's appearance was due to the sin of bitul
Torah which was being committed now.
Let us study this: On that day, Yehoshua had been waging war.
On the morrow, he would again be engaged in battle. Klal
Yisroel was fearful, and exhausted from the day's combat.
Who would imagine that under such circumstances, in the
darkness of night, that it would be feasible to learn Torah?
Is there any greater oness than this?
Yet, we learn from here the great obligation of
hishtadlus one must make, and the enormous accusations
a person can be faced with if he pities himself a bit too
much.
Yehoshua in his greatness immediately accepted these words of
rebuke. Without further ado, he went, that night, into the
depths of the valley. (Yehoshua 8:13) Chazal teach us
that he went — he delved into — the depths of
halochoh.
This is specifically the point on which we have just
expounded: What great caution must be exercised when using
the heter of, "I am an oness, and therefore
Hashem will pardon me."
With this is mind, Chazal portray the Heavenly Court. A
pauper, a rich man, and a wicked one will all be called to
stand judgment. (Yoma 35b) "Why did you not occupy
yourself with Torah?" — will come the frightful
question.
If the accused will reply that he was so destitute that he
had to make a living, he will be asked, "Were you more
deprived than Hillel? Even in his great poverty, Hillel still
managed to learn."
If the accused will reply that he was constantly preoccupied
with his wealth, he will be asked, "Were you wealthier than
Rabbi Eliezer? Even with his endless amount of money, Rabbi
Eliezer still managed to learn."
And, if the accused will reply that he was exceedingly
handsome and therefore had to satiate his desires, he will be
asked, "Were you possibly more handsome than Yosef? Even with
his unusually attractive appearance, Yosef still managed to
learn."
Hillel, Rabbi Eliezer, and Yosef Hatzaddik all obligate us in
any situation we may be in. They compel us to toil in Torah,
and not exonerate ourselves so easily.
Let us conclude with that which we have mentioned before.
Fortunate are we to have merited to study Torah for one full
day, which for us will be considered as if we have studied
each day of the entire year. Let us accept upon ourselves
Be'ezras Hashem to exercise the greatest caution
before we mistakenly deem ourselves to be in the category of
oness. And, let us resolve to demand of ourselves much
yegi'ah and tremendous dedication to the studying of
our heilige Torah.
HaRav Yisroel Ehrentreu is the former Principal of the
Teachers Seminary in Lucerne. This article was transcribed
from a droshoh delivered at the culmination of a
Yarchei Kallah session in Lucerne, Switzerland. It was
printed in the Nisan, 5749 edition of the bi-annually
published Kol Hatorah journal, and has been translated
with permission.
