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Rabbi Elazar ben (son of) Azariah said: If there
is no Torah [study] there is no proper conduct; if there is no proper
conduct there is no Torah [study]. If there is no wisdom there is no fear
of G-d; if there is no fear of G-d there is no wisdom. If there is no
knowledge there is no understanding; if there is no understanding there is
no knowledge. If there is no flour (sustenance) there is no Torah; if there
is no Torah there is no flour.
This week’s mishna
introduces a number of what are basically circular-logic dilemmas. Before
we discuss the particular cases, let’s take a look at the structure. If
there is no X, there is no Y, meaning, one cannot acquire Y unless he has
first acquired X. And now, continues our mishna, how does one acquire X?
With Y! (Gee, there’s a hole in the bucket, dear Liza…) 😉 We are thus caught in a
circle — with neither beginning nor end. X and Y are both necessary for one
another; neither can be achieved on its own. If so, how does one ever
embark on the paths of X and Y (say of Torah study and of proper conduct —
our mishna’s first example)?
Evidently, R. Elazar
intends more to impress upon us the challenge of spiritual growth than to
give us a quick-fix recipe to achieve it. To achieve in Torah, wisdom or
any of the great endeavors of life, one does not advance in simple linear
progression. There is no simple, easily-defined, step-by-step program. One
must first make an effort in X — say Torah study, and then he will slowly
begin to improve his personal conduct. Having made himself a somewhat more
decent and refined human being, he will then begin to truly appreciate his
Torah study — and it will impact upon him all the more. And as he becomes
more caring and sensitive a human being, he will really appreciate
the depth and beauty of the Torah’s teachings — and then they will truly impact on
both him and his understanding of Torah. Ad infinitum.
And this, of course,
introduces us to the true dilemma of spiritual growth. It is no simple
cause-and-effect process. One has to work, to push himself in the necessary
directions without noticing any discernible gains. (How does learning some
obscure laws of leprous houses or of Temple meal offerings make me a
greater human being?) And eventually he will find that he has become a
different person. An old friend of mine once repeated to me what his karate
teacher told him: “For the longest time you will run drills and practice
moves feeling like it’s just a bunch of forced motions. Then one day you
will wake up a master.”
For when we advance spiritually,
we attempt to touch something deeper than our bodies or minds. We reach out
to our very souls, that hidden piece of godliness within ourselves. And
there is no direct route. When it comes to spiritual growth, there is no
start, finish, or clearly-defined course of action. We latch onto a circle
— at one of its infinite points — and begin to spiral upwards.
Let us now move to
our mishna’s first statement — “If there is no Torah there is no proper
conduct.” The simple understanding is that the Torah and the words of our
Sages teach us proper behavior towards others. Our consciences provide us
with some guidance for distinguishing between right and wrong, but they
alone will not provide us with sufficient direction for living. How much
charity should we give, to whom should we give, what is too little, what is
too much, how do we honor our parents and raise our children, what is fair
advertising, invasion of privacy, a meaningful relationship, etc., etc. The
Torah fills in all of the blanks. It not only tells us to “love our fellow”
(Levit. 19:18 — often wrongly translated as “love your neighbor”), but it
defines it with volumes of detail, without which “love your fellow” is
little more than poetic cliche.
But even more
fundamentally, the Torah teaches us what is proper conduct and what is not.
Human wisdom alone can never be trusted to dictate moral behavior — as the
past century’s experiences can certainly testify. Scripture provides us
with an important case in point.
Early in our history,
King Saul was instructed by Samuel the Prophet to fulfill one of the
commandments of the Torah — that of wiping out the wicked Nation of Amalek
(I Samuel 15). He was to lead an army to kill every member of that vile
people — the fighting men, the elderly, the women, children, babies,
livestock — in order to “wipe out the memory of Amalek from beneath the
heavens” (Deut. 25:19). G-d in His infinite knowledge knows that there is
something irredeemably evil about Amalek, so much so that, as the Midrash
states, both G-d’s Name and His throne are not complete so long as Amalek
exists (Tanchuma Ki Saitsai 11). The Sages view Amalek as the force of evil
in this world which opposes the force of good Israel represents. The world
cannot reach its apex so long as Amalek exists.
I realize such a
Heavenly command raises uncomfortable questions for most of us. Could such
a decree really be just? How could an all-merciful G-d command such? Aren’t
all men basically good? Aren’t children innocent until proven guilty? I
personally have no pretenses of understanding G-d’s inscrutable ways. I can
accept that G-d’s wisdom penetrates far beyond puny man’s. But people far
greater than we have been plagued by such issues — and have failed.
(As an aside, people
today typically equate Nazi Germany to Amalek. There was an old tradition
(dating from long before the Holocaust), attributed to R. Eliyahu Kramer
(known as the Vilna Gaon, 18th Century leader of Lithuanian Jewry), that
the Germans descend from that evil nation — a nation differing fundamentally
from the rest of mankind, evil at its very core (even if not visibly on its
surface), and which instead serves to oppose the message Israel brings to
the world. Recently, one of my readers brought to my attention a
fascinating relevant opinion piece by Dennis Prager on the subject: http://www.jewishworldreview.com/0309/prager030309.php3.
There is real evil in the world — then and today. Civilized man would do
well to recognize it for what it is.)
(I’ll add another
important aside the Mishna states that today the nations have become
dispersed and mixed together (see Mishna Yadayim 4:4). There is no single
nation today which is evil to a man. Taking Nazi Germany as an example, even
if one would say the proportion of sadistic anti-Semites was far higher
than other comparable nations (in itself not obvious), there were certainly
good Germans among them who stood up against evil — and many more who
opposed it inwardly but were too afraid to take a stand. The more relevant
lesson for us today is that there are Hitlers and Ahmadinejads in every
generation, ready to strike at us if they have the power. (Anyone who has
studied the history of the Third Reich knows that Hitler was an unknown
misfit whose rise to power came about only through a long confluence of
unexpected factors.) We are always threatened. Our safety comes about
through the hands of G-d alone.)
Returning to the
story of King Saul, as a result of this dilemma — the justice of wiping out
an entire nation, Saul did the understandable but the unthinkable: he
defied G-d’s will. He did not do so directly or maliciously, but he did not
stop the soldiers from sparing both the Amaleki king and some of the
livestock. Their sin, according to some, was in substituting their own
concept of mercy for G-d’s. Why kill the animals? Why not bring them as sacrifices — to
G-d! Samuel responded: “Are offerings and sacrifices pleasing to G-d as
listening to His voice?!” (v. 22).
The result of Saul’s
act, according to the Sages, was that Agag, King of Amalek, lived long
enough to beget a son. Generations later his descendant Haman nearly
succeeded in wiping out that Jewish nation that had been so “merciful” as
to spare his ancestor. Who knows how much more evil and corruption has
since existed in this world because of Amalek’s continued existence?
For that matter, take
another famous hypothetical question: Go back 120 years or so and meet cute
little toddler Adolf, darling child who has never hurt a fly. (He was
probably an obnoxious brat back then too, but two-year-olds can get away
with it.) 😉 Should you kill him? To those
of us who — like G-d — know the future effect of all events, could there
have been a greater act of mercy
in history?
Even more interesting
— and equally tragic — were the ramifications for King Saul himself. He
later became a depressant who became as obsessed with hunting and slaying
the future King David — who he knew would succeed him — as he once was with
fighting Amalek. Interesting: Wasn’t Saul previously the kindhearted one —
to the extent that he was “more” merciful than G-d? Now he is ruthlessly
pursuing a fellow Jew and devoted servant?
Needless to say Saul
was a great man. The Talmud writes that he committed but one sin his entire
life (Yoma 22b — although as commentators explain, his one fault manifested
itself in multiple fashions). His faults cannot be viewed by today’s
superficial standards. Yet what seems to have occurred is that his mercy
turned into something other than true mercy. He had not acquired G-d’s everlasting
trait of compassion. He lived according to his own definition of the trait,
one even capable of defying G-d’s definition.
The result for Saul
was that his own compassion waned with his once-sterling character. His
trait was not a spiritual and eternal one, founded upon G-d’s infinite
mercy. It was a human contrivance. And likewise, Saul’s battle against
Amalek was no longer a spiritual act — of Divine service and ultimately of
Divine mercy, but a non-sacred act of war. And Saul, became transformed —
ever so slightly — into a man of violence rather than compassion. The
Midrash writes that one who shows mercy when cruelty is appropriate will
ultimately show cruelty when mercy is appropriate (Koheles Rabbah 7:36). In
the end, Saul’s sense of right and wrong lost its divine anchoring and
direction. It became the unstable mercy of a troubled human conscience,
rather than the unbending, infinite compassion of an all-merciful G-d.
(Based in part on
ArtScroll Megillas Esther, pp. xxvii – xxxi, and on a lecture heard from R.
Yisroel Riesman.)
Text Copyright © 2009
by Rabbi Dovid Rosenfeld and Torah.org.
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