In an oft-quoted Gemara in Bava Metzia 62a, the Talmud confronts the following situation:
Two people are traveling on a distant journey in the wilderness. One has a canteen of water. Were the men to share the water, they would both die, but if one only drinks, he will remain alive in time to seek help. Ben Petura rules that it is preferable that both drink from the water and die, rather than one witnessing his friend’s demise. Rabbi Akiva disagrees: the Torah says that your brother should live with you”; Chayecha Kodmin - your life takes precedence over his life.
At first blush, Rabbi Akiva’s position here flatly contradicts the famous verse in Sefer Vayikra, V’ahavta L’reyacha Kamocha – which bids each of us to love our fellow Jews as ourselves; seemingly, we are each expected to love our fellows to the same extent that we love ourselves! To complicate matters, Rabbi Akiva himself, quoted by the midrash, hails this verse as the central principle of the Torah – “V’ahavta L’reyacha Kamocha - Zeh Klal Gadol B’Torah.”
The verse mandating love of a fellow Jew also ends with a strange “PS”: Ani Hashem – “I am the Lord.” Who did we think was dictating the Torah to Moshe until now? To unravel our mystery, let’s examine the concept of love as it is addressed by the Torah. In the Kriat Shema, we are bidden to fulfill the lofty commandment of Loving G-d: “And you shall love the Lord, your G-d, with all your heart and with all your soul, and with all your means…”On this verse, the Sifri states:
Rebbe says, ‘Why was this said? Because it says, And you shall love the Lord your G-d with all of your heart. – (But) I do not know how to love G-d! The Torah therefore says, And these words which I command you this day shall be on your heart. Take these words to your heart, because through this, you will come to know He Whose speech brought the world into being – and you will cleave to His ways.’
In other words, the rather amorphous obligation to love G-d is achieved through adhering to the directive of the next verse in Kriat Shema: through learning and focusing on Torah, we can each come to know G-d and cleave to His attributes.
Rabbi Meir Simcha of Dvinsk, in his classic work, Meshech Chochma, deepens our understanding of the Sifri: Love, says Rav Meir, can follow one of two models: When a poor man who receives tzedakah from a wealthy man, says that he “loves” his benefactor, he is really expressing a love born of hitnagdut, opposition, even antagonism. The less fortunate man surely wishes that he himself had such wealth; unconsciously, he may feel at odds with the giver. The emotion the recipient identifies as “love” actually reflects a self-love; such love gives birth to a tension between himself and the wealthy man, a tension only relieved with the receipt of the gift. Only once the rich man shared his wealth with the poor man does this antagonism subtly subside.
However, says R. Meir Simcha, “love that focuses on the other, the recipient of the love, flows from the equality and similarity between the two parties – such as a Torah scholar who loves another…” When I appreciate that which binds me to another, I develop a deep affinity for that person, regard for his essence. One who has mastered the art of playing the violin who attends a violin concerto can have a deep appreciation of the talents of the guest performer; a student of art will be mesmerized by the sophistication of a Rembrandt far more than the uninitiated.
Which model best fits our love for G-d? His unbounded wisdom, infinite nature, and incorporeality surely make Him an unlikely object of this second, more profound brand of love. How can we say that our love of G-d stems “from the equality and similarity” between ourselves and G-d?
Our relationship with G-d instead seems to more naturally fit the first model of love: we love him as recipients of his beneficence. In our daily Tefillot, we look to G-d as the provider of life, wealth, and blessing. Sadly, it appears that our love of G-d is ultimately actually a love of self. This is the key, says the Meshech Chochma, to understanding the question of the Sifri, cited earlier:
….it says, And you shall love the Lord your G-d with all of your heart. – (But) I do not know how to love G-d!
The Sifri notes that the Torah requires us to love G-d with all of our hearts. This implies a thorough, almost selfless love of our Creator. “But I do not know how to love G-d – to this extent!” Asks the midrash: How can a mere mortal be anything but a lover of himself, a selfish recipient of Divine bounty? Man’s self-serving focus can surely not be what the Torah intended by its mandate to love Hashem Elokecha B’chol Livavicha! What is the Sifri’s answer?
And these words which I command you this day shall be on your heart. Take these words to your heart, because through this, you will come to know He Whose speech brought the world into being – and you will cleave to His ways.’
Torah learning paves the way for the Jew to cleave to Divine attributes such as compassion and mercy. Through Torah study, a Jew penetrates G-d’s wisdom, begins to understand the Divine mind. Incorporating the Torah into our consciousness and living a life consistent with Torah – creates a common ground between us and G-d. It fosters a degree of “equality”. It paves the way for the more profound selfless love stemming from an appreciation of G-d’s true essence.
Such a perspective sheds light on the mitzva of Ahavat Re’a, love of a fellow Jew. In Rav Meir Simcha’s view, “when you love a fellow Jew, do not love him for the honor or other payment that he will give you.” Should you do so, you would merely love yourself. Such a love often triggers the exact opposite result: It prompts us to seek out relationships of greater inequality – since such friendships provide us with greater self-serving satisfaction. Rather, we must love our fellow Jew in response to that which links us – our common heritage as children of Avraham, Yitzchak and Yaakov, as members of a covenantal community that worships G-d and serves as a beacon to the nations of the world.
This approach solves the problem we raised earlier: How can Rabbi Akiva simultaneously bid us to love our fellow Jew as ourselves, but permit us to drink from the canteen in the desert at the expense of another’s life? According to the Meshech Chochma’s approach, that question was premised on a fundamental misreading of the intent of the verse: The term “Kamocha” in the verse, V’ahavta L’reyacha Kamocha, does not require us to love our fellow Jew to the same extent to which we each love ourselves; the Torah does not expect us to forfeit our lives on behalf of others. Instead, “Kamocha” describes the reason for, and the nature of, the love that the Torah asks us to experience. The Torah challenges us to see the common bonds that link each of us with our fellow Jew.
This approach even helps answer another question we asked earlier: Why does the verse mandating love of others end with the expression Ani Hashem – I am the Lord? Did not G-d dictate the entire Torah to Moshe? Does Hashem’s Divine name not permeate the entirety of Torah and mitzvot?
Says the Meshech Chochma:
וזה אני ה’, שזה דוגמת אהבה כאשר אתה צריך לאהוב אותי וכאשר אני אוהבכם…והשי”ת אינו מקבל שום תועליות משום נברא, ואדון עולם אשר מלך בטרם כל יציר נברא, וכן תאהב לרעך…
“This is what I am Hashem means: The love of your fellow Jew should follow the model of how you must love Me, and how I love you… Hashem, May he be Blessed, receives no benefit from earthly creatures, since He existed prior to the world’s creation. So, too, should you love your fellow…”
…He who spurns gifts will live long.(Proverbs 15:27)
As often is the case the pithier Hebrew version of these words is more poetic, more absolute, and, as a result, more jarring. שונא מתנת יחיה or in transliteration, SoNAy (Lit. He who hates) MaTaNoT (gifts) YiCHYe (will live). Note that the verse doesn’t allow for indifference, but one must despise the idea of being on the receiving end for gifts.
Now that is a counter cultural concept if I ever heard one.
The Talmud teaches what an exemplar of this value does to demonstrate that he is one who spurns gifts.
“A Sage who does not hesitate to declare his own food treif (not kosher) when he is not absolutely certain” (Chullin 44b)
The commentaries learn that if he is not so invested in his own sustenance than surely he is not one to care about gifts. The reason being that he is more concerned about keeping the law than he is material losses. Certainly, such a person will never consider a material gift to “matter”.
What does it mean to “spurn gifts”? It is to see them as tempting distractions that deter one from life’s purpose, a nefarious subterfuge to make one subject to the sycophantic designs of those who wish to curry favor. The same Talmudic passage recounts that:
Rabbi Elazar was sent a gift from the House of the Nasi (the Jewish leadership) and he wouldn’t accept it. He was invited to join them, and he refused to go. When they inquired as to why he would not join, he answered, “He who spurns gifts shall live.”
Rabbi Zera, however, refused gifts when they were sent to him, but accepted the authorities invitation to join them. “They are showing affection to me,” he said.
Here, R. Zera marks a distinction between invitations and gifts. R. Elazar does not. R. Elazar, considering the source sees gifts and invitations as one and the same, but R. Zera is willing to accept the flattery of the officials as long as it does not line his pockets.
Here’s another thing to consider. In times of economic hardship, do gifts not create yet another possibility for humiliation and embarrassment for those who have fallen on hard times and can no longer participate? What would happen if special occasions were celebrated without gifts, but with the reciprocal sharing of bounty, or where ones honored presence was considered gift enough?
I remember when my daughter celebrated a birthday in a Chabad kindergarten. We were invited to attend while the class was served a cake in celebration of her sixth year. She had a wreath of flowers on her head, and the gift from her teacher was that she was given the honor of serving her students her birthday cake.
And truly an honor it was.
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The Gemara (Rosh Hashana 28b) records a disagreement which is known as mitzvot tzrichot kavvana (or not). The Gemara discusses two cases of mitzvot done without intention; (a) a person forced to eat matza and (b) a person who blows shofar for musical purposes. The dispute is not clearly resolved in the Gemara, but the Shulchan Aruch says that in order to fulfill one’s obligation one must perform the mitzvah with intention to do the mitzvah.
What is meant by “intention?” The Mishna Brurah (siman 60, # 10) writes “…initially one must certainly be careful to intend before each mitzvah to fulfill the obligation of the mitzvah…”
The Mishna Brurah reflects the Gemara. The Gemara’s examples of lack of intent are people performing the mitzvah against their will or for a purpose other than that of discharging his religious duty.
A Jew must be conscious of his obligations and whether he has met them. The Shulchan Aruch rules that meeting obligations requires that the actions be accompanied by kavvana-intention. If a person performs the act of the mitzvah without kavvana, he has not fulfilled his duty and he must repeat the act with kavvana.
Is kavvana required equally by all mitzvot? From the Gemara and Shulchan Aruch it would seem that it is. However the Chovot Halevavot (Chovot Halevavot is one of the oldest books on ethics that we possess. It was written in Spain in the eleventh century by Rabbeinu Bachya ben Pakkuda.) makes an interesting distinction between categories of mitzvot. He writes (Page 341 in the edition of Rav Yosef Kaffach.) that when a king issues an order the king’s order is carried out with all possible dedication. This being true for kings, it is certainly true for the performance of God’s orders. So, one could ask, how is it possible that one of the most notable of the Rabbis of the Gemara could hold that mitzvot do not require kavvana?
Rabbeinu Bachya explains that mitzvot can be divided into three categories. There are mitzvot which are only duties of the levavot (which can be translated as the heart, or the intellect). These mitzvot include the mitzvot of belief and trust in God. A second category is composed of mitzvot that involve both the levavot and the eivarim ( which means the limbs of the body). Mitzvot of this type are prayer and the study of Torah. These two types of mitzvot demand total dedication in their execution. And total dedication means a complete, single-minded devotion to fulfilling God’s requirement.
On the other hand, there is a third category of mitzvah. This is the group of mitzvot which are purely of the eivarim .The mitzvot of tzitzit and sukka are members of this group. Rabbeinu Bachya says that kavvana is not essential to these mitzvot, because the mind has no role in their performance. These are the mitzvot about which it said mitzvot ein tzrichot kavvana.
There is an important point that we can learn from Rabbeinu Bachya. For the great ethicist Rabbeinu Bachya kavvana is not merely intent. Kavvana carries with it a sense of urgency and zeal. Mitzvot must be performed with (at least) the same zeal that we would perform a mission for a king.
This discussion is rather legalistic. It is a yes/no sort of issue- did it count or didn’t it count? But beyond this question of “did it count” there is another issue of “will the act be rewarded at all?”
The answer to this question is, yes. Acts that yield a positive outcome are rewarded. (in this essay I will use the word “mitzvah” to describe acts that fulfill a specific obligation of the Torah, and the phrase “good deed” to describe any act that yields a positive outcome).
Rashi (quoting the Sifrei) says that even a dropped coin earns a reward if the coin helped a poor person. From Shulchan Aruch (if not Rabbeinu Bachya) it seems that the person who dropped the coin did not perform a mitzvah (because there was no intention to give charity) but nevertheless Hashem gives the person who dropped the coin a reward. Rashi teaches us that there is a reward for good deeds even when no mitzvah was performed.
What distinguishes the reward for a mitzvah from the reward for a good deed? A person could say that while there is a reward for good deeds, there is more reward for a mitzvah- it’s all a matter of how much.
While this may be true I think there is a different answer , and it is one that won’t come as much of a surprise. The Rambam writes:
העובד מאהבה, עוסק בתורה ובמצוות והולך בנתיבות החכמה–לא מפני דבר בעולם, לא מפני יראת הרעה, ולא כדי לירש הטובה: אלא עושה האמת, מפני שהוא אמת; וסוף הטובה לבוא בכלל. (הלכות תשובה, פרק י)
The worthy person does not serve Hashem in order to gain a reward, he serves because it is the right thing to do. Reward really is not a sign of Divine favor. Even dogs get a reward.
(וְאַנְשֵׁי-קֹדֶשׁ, תִּהְיוּן לִי; וּבָשָׂר בַּשָּׂדֶה טְרֵפָה לֹא תֹאכֵלוּ, לַכֶּלֶב תַּשְׁלִכוּן אֹתוֹ (שמות כב:ל.
The dogs were silent during the plague of the first-born (Shemot 11:7) and as a reward dogs are given carcasses. Obviously dogs don’t do mitzvot. Mitzvot, first-and-foremost are the products of a free-will choice. However, Hashem rewards all positive actions, including those done accidentally by humans and those done by animals.
But these positive acts are far removed from mitzvot. When a person does a mitzva he has improved himself spiritually by properly exercising his free-will. Consequently, this person has earned a better-place in the World-to-Come which is the place where the person’s spirit can flourish.
הטובה הצפונה לצדיקים, היא חיי העולם הבא; והם החיים שאין עימהן מוות, והטובה שאין עימה רעה. הוא שכתוב בתורה, “למען ייטב לך, והארכת ימים” מפי השמועה למדו “למען ייטב לך” לעולם שכולו טוב, “והארכת ימים” לעולם שכולו ארוך; וזה הוא העולם הבא שכר הצדיקים–הוא שיזכו לנועם זה, ויהיו בטובה זו….. (רמב”ם הלכות תשובה פרק ח)
The person who drops a coin has not grown. Dropping a coin is not a mitzvah and the act of dropping a coin will not earn a place in the World to Come. However the outcome of dropping a coin may be happy for some needy family, and Hahsem will bless the person who dropped the coin. What is the purpose of the reward given to the dogs and the absent-minded coin-droppers? The Sifrei answers:
אמר רבי אלעזר בן עזריה: מנין למאבד סלע מתוך ידו ומצאה עני ונפרנס בה מעלה עליו הכתוב כאלו זכה? ת”ל, “לגר ליתום ולאלמנה יהיה למען יברכך ה’ א-להיך.” והרי דברים קל וחומר! מי שלא נתכוין לזכות וזכה מעלה עליו הכתוב כאלו זכה, מי שנתכוין לזכות וזכה, על אחת כמה וכמה.
The blessings given for unintentional good deeds are meant to inspire us to aim to fulfill the mitzvot. The Sifrei emphasizes that these unintended acts carry no merit; the person who dropped the coin is treated as if he merited (כאלו זכה).
The Shulchan Aruch rules that mitzvot must be preceded by kavvana. The Mishna Brurah quotes the Chayei Adam that the issue of kavvana is only relevant where the act of performing the mitzvah is ambiguous. In other words, when a person watching this action does not realize that this action is a “mitzvah” then for this action to be counted as a mitzvah the person must specifically intend for this act to be considered a mitzvah.
This leads to an interesting disagreement.
The Torah commands us to pay the people who work for us, on the day that the work is performed:
בְּיוֹמוֹ תִתֵּן שְׂכָרוֹ וְלֹא-תָבוֹא עָלָיו הַשֶּׁמֶשׁ, כִּי עָנִי הוּא, וְאֵלָיו, הוּא נֹשֵׂא אֶת-נַפְשׁוֹ; וְלֹא-יִקְרָא עָלֶיךָ אֶל-יְהוָה, וְהָיָה בְךָ חֵטְא. (דברים כד:טו) מצות עשה ליתן שכר השכיר בזמנו, שנאמר “ביומו תיתן שכרו”… (רבמ”ם הל’ שכירות י”ב:א)
Paying wages is a mitzva. But it’s an act performed countless times every day by all sorts of people. For the observant Jew this unpleasant bill-paying is actually a joyous reward-filled opportunity to perform the mitzvah of b’yomo titein s’charo.
But non-Jews pay their bills as well, either because it is the ethical thing to do, or because they don’t want to be sued. Presumably there are also some Jews who pay their bills for those reasons as well, due to their not knowing that bill-paying is a mitzvah. So the mitzvah of b’yomo titein s’charo would meet the criterion of the Chayei Adam of an ambiguous act, and for the act of paying a bill to be credited as a mitzvah the debt must be paid with intent to fulfill the mitzvah.
Rav Ben-Zion Abba Sha’ul zt”l elaborates on this in his Or l’Zion (45:4). He quotes the Kaf HaChayim (siman 251, #19) that a person can fulfill fourteen mitzvot with a single haircut! But Rav Abba Sha’ul emphasizes that bill-paying requires kavvana prior to handing over the cash.
A different view is found in the responsa of Rav Shlomo Kluger (1783-1869) is one of the pre-eminent poskim of the past 300 years. zt”l in the collection Sh’eilot u’Tshuvot Etz HaChayim (siman 54, U’v’hachi). In reasoning that seems (to me at least) reminiscent of the Chovot Halevavot , Rav Shlomo Kluger distinguishes between mitzvot bein adam l’Makom and mitzvot bein adam l’chaveiro..
The mitzvot in the first category, are those that involve the person and Hashem. One could describe these mitzvot as classically “religious acts.” These acts when performed out of habit lack meaning. They possess only religious meaning and they acquire their significance when the person performing them has the minimal religious intention of performing this ritual for Hashem. Without kavvanah they do not deserve any consideration.
The mitzvot of the second category are the mitzvot where one person helps another. I think that Rav Shlomo Kluger holds that since the deed (in his example it is the guarding of a lost object) has inherent value, it also has value as a mitzvah even without special kavvana. (There remains a question. If Rav Shlomo Kluger does not require kavannah by mitzvot bein adam l’chaveiro, then why is the person who dropped a coin not credited with a mitzvah when the coin is found by a poor man? It may be that while Rav Shlomo Kluger does not require specific kavvanah to perform a mitzvah, he does require as a minimum the conscious decision to perform a particular action. The accidental dropping of the coin lacks any component of will at all.)
Much can be said about the views of Rav Abba Sha’ul and Rav Shlomo Kluger. The question if an act done without religious feeling has religious merit is alluded to by the Rambam (See the notes in Frankel edition of the Rambam with regard to the textual variations of this Rambam.) in Hilchot Melachim 8:11 . However it is encouraging to know as we start a new year that when we go to get our hair cut there is the opportunity to perform fourteen mitzvot if we just think about it.