Eikev 5785: What God Really Wants

GOOD MORNING! Some time ago, I was studying with a young man who was struggling with some of the more esoteric observances in Judaism. He mentioned one of the more inscrutable commandments or mitzvot with which he was conflicted, and then said, “Rabbi, c’mon. Does God really care if I do that?”

My initial reaction to his question was, “If it appears in the Torah then I guarantee you that God really cares.” My young friend accepted that approach because the observance he was struggling with was an explicit verse in the Torah. But, upon further reflection, I realized that my answer was erroneous. In fact, I had not fully understood his question. My only saving grace was that my young friend had not truly understood his own question either.

One of the great sages of the 18th century was known as the “Vilna Gaon – the genius of Vilnius.” His influence on Judaism and Jewish law through his teachings, written works, and his students would be impossible to overstate. One of the works that his students compiled is called the Even Shleimah. It is a collection of his thoughts on Jewish philosophy, Torah study, and Jewish observances.

One of the main thrusts at the beginning of this book is that the Torah was given for man to be able to perfect himself and draw nearer to the Almighty: “The essence of human life is to constantly strengthen ourselves in the repair of our character traits. If not – of what purpose is life?” (Even Shleimah 1:2).

This applies to Torah study as well. The following metaphor is attributed to the Vilna Gaon. Torah is the well-spring of life, and it provides the “water” that sustains life. Studying Torah is likened to watering a garden; if you start with desirable plants, it will produce healthier, more beautiful plants. But if you water weeds, you will only produce more weeds. Learning Torah without attention to character refinement will simply produce more forceful personalities with bad attributes.

Thus, as the essence of the Torah and its observances is to perfect ourselves and become better people, what my young friend was really asking was, “How does fulfilling this commandment make me a better person?”

But there is also the flip side of this coin; there is a perception that ignoring observances (and Torah study for that matter) is acceptable because “all I have to be is a good person.” This is a tragic mistake. The Torah was given as a guidebook for personal growth. Anyone who becomes the barometer and final arbiter of their own personal development has already fallen short of achieving that goal.

I have heard this very question asked in many different ways since I was a child. When my family first moved to Miami Beach in the mid-1970’s, there wasn’t a whole lot for a kid who didn’t want to go to camp to do during the summer. My grandfather, of blessed memory, used to walk on the golf course every day right after sunrise. He would find all sorts of golf balls that had been hit into the bushes and he’d collect them.

One day he asked me if wanted them. He suggested that perhaps I could make a business out of it by going to the golf course during the day and sitting next to “water” holes (where mediocre golfers tend to lose their balls) and seeing if anyone was interested in buying an extra ball. Sure enough, I went to the golf course and started talking to the golfers and a new enterprise was born.

To my surprise, a very large percentage of the golfers were Jewish, and they were both a little surprised and impressed to see an industrious ten-year-old boy with a yarmulka selling golf balls. I received loads of unsolicited advice; “If you wash the balls first, you’ll sell more” (which ended up being true) and endured some good-natured ribbing; “You really need to wait till the balls stop rolling before collecting them.” They even told me jokes.

The rabbi was a neophyte golfer. As he approached a hazardous hole with a green surrounded by water, he debated if he should use his new golf ball. Deciding that the hole was too treacherous, he pulled an old ball out and placed it on the tee. Just then he heard a booming voice from above, “Use the new ball!” Thus heartened, he replaced the old ball with the new and approached the tee. Then the voice from above commanded, “Take a practice swing!” The rabbi stepped back and took a swing.

Feeling more confident than ever, he approached the tee when the voi

For whatever reason, many of the golfers mentioned my yarmulka (in those days, Miami was still the “deep south” and it was uncommon to see a boy wearing a yarmulka outside of the synagogue). It quickly became clear to me that many of these men had attended Hebrew school in their youth. Whether it was guilt or some other reason, they often felt compelled to explain to me why they weren’t religious; “Because all God really cares about is being a good person – and that’s what I focus on.” That summer I must have heard ten different versions of that sentiment.

This all-too-common refrain to explain behavior that runs counter to God’s actual words in the Torah is, at the very least, hypocritical. In general, trying to divine what the Almighty “really cares about” is a losing proposition. In fact, we have a teaching in Pirkei Avot – Ethics of Our Fathers that directly addresses this issue.

“Be as careful with a ‘minor’ mitzvah as with a ‘major’ one for you do not know the reward given for the mitzvot” (Pirkei Avot 2:1).

In other words, we might imagine that we can determine what is important to the Almighty by focusing on the presumptive reward for each commandment. However, this teaches us that even though we may perceive some of the commandments as “minor” and others as “major,” we cannot infer the innate value of God’s commandments or what God “really cares” about.

We find a similar idea in the very first verse of this week’s Torah portion:

“If you listen to these laws, safeguarding them and fulfilling them, then Hashem your Lord will guard the covenant that and the love with which He made an oath to your ancestors” (Deuteronomy 7:12).

Rashi, the great medieval Biblical commentator, interprets this verse in a rather surprising way. Rashi says that the laws referred to in this verse are those that we generally “trampled underfoot.” Meaning, this refers to fulfilling those mitzvot that we feel are insignificant.

Many have struggled to understand why Rashi is limiting the fulfillment in the verse to those types of mitzvot. In fact, it seems contrary to the simple reading of the verse, which seems to imply all types of commandments. What compelled Rashi to explain the verse in this manner?

Grand gestures aren’t necessarily a true barometer of the strength of the relationship, nor is responding to an expectation. We often go out of our way to help those in need, including complete strangers. But does contributing to a stricken family’s GoFundMe page because of a heart wrenching newspaper story or calling 911 after witnessing a car accident indicate any sort of close relationship? Hardly. That is the humanity within us, which compels us to respond. It’s not about them; it’s about us.

Consider a spouse who regularly leaves notes of appreciation or buys flowers for no specific occasion – just to express how much they cherish and appreciate their beloved. Writing short notes or giving flowers are not considered grand gestures. Yet, which is a better indicator of the strength of the relationship; a very nice dinner on an anniversary or notes and small gifts to a spouse for no specific reason other than to express one’s love?

While responding to a great need of someone whom we care about is of extreme importance, the true measure of the depth of the relationship cannot be measured by that. A real relationship isn’t about responding to a singular great need; it’s about being tuned in to who they are and what they might appreciate receiving as an expression of our love on a regular basis. The value of a gift isn’t determined by what was given, but rather on how the recipient feels about it.

This applies in our relationship with the Almighty. As He is unknowable, we cannot pretend to know “what He really cares about.” God alone decides the true value of our deeds and how they contribute to our personal growth. When we follow His commandments, we don’t get to set the value of the individual mitzvah – we simply do them because that is His desire. More importantly, by doing so, our acts are out of love and not out of obligation.

Eikev, Deuteronomy 7:12 - 11:25

Moses continues his discourse guaranteeing the Jewish people prosperity and good health if they follow the mitzvot, the commandments. He reminds us to look at our history and to know that we can and should trust in God. However, we should be careful so that we are not distracted by our material success, lest we forget and ignore God.

Moses warns us against idolatry and against self-righteousness. He then details our rebellions against God during the 40 years in the desert and the giving of the Second Tablets (Moses broke the first Tablets containing the Ten Commandments during the sin of the Golden Calf).

The Torah then answers a question that every human being has asked of himself: What does God want of you? “Only that you remain in awe of God your Lord, so that you will follow all His paths and love Him, serving God your Lord with all your heart and with all your soul. You must keep God’s commandments and decrees […] so that all good will be yours” (Deuteronomy 10:12).