One's Attitude Towards Learning (Achieving Elevation Part 2) [Rav Aryeh Leibowitz]

In addition to making Torah study regular and primary, one’s attitude towards his learning of Torah is also a significant contributor to man’s spiritual success.  To successfully live one’s Torah wisdom, the acquisition of Torah knowledge must not be a mere intellectual pursuit.  Torah study is not for fulfilling intellectual curiosity alone.  The pursuit of Torah knowledge is a pursuit of divine truth, and a rendezvous with transcendence.  As an engagement with the divine and with the eternal truths of reality, Torah must not speak only to one’s mind, but also speak to one’s heart. 

Approaching Torah study with this perspective greatly impacts a person’s ability to live the Torah he has learned.  The Torah envisions that every person – not just the elite Torah scholar – should have an intense, passionate, and personal relationship with Torah study that leads one to identify and unite with the wisdom he has learned.  The goal of Torah study is not only to know the Torah, but to internalize the Torah knowledge that has been learned.

When Torah study is studied with a conscious focus on internalizing, the Torah becomes a part of one’s own essence.  The studier unites with the Torah, and becomes a person of Torah.  This focus also naturally leads one to perform the mitzvos and live by the ideals of the Torah.  Perhaps this is the reason that Hashem commanded the Jewish people to literally carve the entire Torah into stones before they entered the land of Israel from their desert wanderings.  Unlike writing, carving into stones makes the text part of the stone itself.  The message to the Jewish nation was that the Torah must be a part of who they are and not something external to them.[1]

Chochmah and Daas

Chazal use two different terms when talking about wisdom: chochmah and daas.  Chochmah is knowledge that a person has learned through study and experiences. It is, however, external to a person.  It is information that he originally did not know and now he knows.  However, da’as is knowledge that has been internalized and affects the way one lives.  It is internal knowledge that has become a part of one’s identity.

In general, there is a progression from chochmah to da’as.  Often something is learned as pure information — as chochmah — and over time it is internalized and enters the realm of da’as. Knowledge’s journey from chochmah to da’as heralds a deepening of existence, and reflects an existential transformation in one’s relation to truth. The goal of Torah study is to bring the information learned to the level of da’as.  Proper Torah study requires one to internalize wisdom, to make it part of one’s essence.  The amassing of intellectual knowledge is important, but the true elevation of man comes through da’as, not chochmah.[2]

The Midrash records (Vayikra Rabbah 1:15) a very disparaging comment about a Torah scholar who does not have da’as, comparing him to a carcass – the epitome of wasted potential.  One who studies Torah but allows it to remain external to who he is, one who amasses great amounts of knowledge but does not internalize that knowledge or live by that knowledge is wasting his potential. 

This is the Torah’s directive (Devarim 4:39), “וידעת היום והשבת אל לבבך,” “You shall know today, and bring it to your heart…”  Hashem states clearly here that it is not enough to know (וידעת).  Chochmah that is learned by the mind must also filter down to the heart, as R. Tzadok Ha-Kohen of Lublin teaches in his Pri Zadik (Rosh Hashanah #9), ““The level of da’as is achieved through a connection between the brain and the heart, and through this, [the intellect] is realized in the depths of the heart.”[3]

The Maharal even suggests that the Jewish nation’s failure to appreciate this point led to the destruction of the Temple.  The Gemara (Nedarim 81a) states that the Temple was destroyed because the Jewish people were not reciting a blessing on their Torah study.  Clearly, the Jews at that time were studying Torah, but their lack of making the appropriate blessing was symptomatic of an attitude towards Torah that reflected a pure intellectual interest.  They studied, but lacked the desire to infuse their religious identities with that which they had learned.

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[1] In this light we might be able to better understand a Mishna in Pirkei Avos.  The Mishna writes that “The performance of Torah is primary, not the learning of Torah (לא המדרש העיקר אלא המעשה).  This does not mean that Torah study is less importance than the performance of the commandments.  In fact, Chazal teach that learning Torah is of supreme value (“תלמוד תורה כנגד כולם”). The reference by Chazal in this context to “performance (מעשה)” does not refer to the actual performance of the commandments, per say, but rather refers to a form of learning Torah with an intent to live the Torah and implement into life that which has been learned.  Indeed, how can Torah study be denigrated and considered less than the commandments, if Torah study is itself a mitzvah.  Rather, the Mishna means that Torah study that is only to know the “wisdom of Torah” but with no intent to live the life of Torah is the object of the Mishna’s denigration.    See Ruach Chaim, Avos 3:17 who suggests along these lines.

This is perhaps the meaning of the Yaavetz’s comment in his commentary on Avos (3:12), “Wisdom (חכמה) that doesn’t lead to actions isn’t wisdom.”  The learning itself must be directed inward and with the intent that it will change and elevate a person.  Only then is it true Torah study.  To be clear: We are not saying that the only value of Torah study is that it teaches one how to perform mitzvos.  Torah study for the sake of Torah study is encouraged, even idealized, and Torah study that never actually translates into a physical action is not lacking in any way.  Obviously when an opportunity presents itself to fulfill what one has learned, man must be stirred to do so.  However, such fulfillment is not the only goal of his study.

[2] The Torah itself also relates to the term da’as in a similar fashion. In the Torah the word da’as necessarily implies a connection. It is used to express the ultimate connection between husband and wife, physical intimacy: “And the man knew Eve his wife” (Genesis 4:1). Just as the connection realized through physical intimacy is da’as, so too the intense and personal connection between the person and the knowledge he has internalized is called da’as.

[3] This might also explain the Midrash that teaches that Avraham wore a jewel around his neck.  What is the message of this Midrash?  Do we need to know what jewelry Avraham wore?  Rather, a jewel represents something of value, and the Midrash is teaching us something about the value of Avraham’s neck.  Perhaps, we must look at the neck as the connection point between the head (mind) and chest (heart). Avraham’s neck is highlighted because he excelled in connecting his mind with his heart. Avraham recognized the value of not only studying Torah with his mind, but also the importance of uniting the wisdom he learned with the rest of his being.

A Life of Torah Study (Achieving Elevation Part 1) [Rav Aryeh Leibowitz]

Introduction

We have discussed man’s elevated position in creation, and his unique mind that empowers him to acquire knowledge.  We have also explored man’s free will, and his obligation to make decisions in life that will propel him to live the knowledge he has learned.  More specifically, we have identified Torah as the ultimate source of wisdom, and a Torah life as the prime manifestation of that wisdom. Lastly, we discussed man’s inner struggle with his own lower forces that draw him away from this obligation to study Torah and live a Torah life and distance him from his elevated position in creation.  We noted at that time that while man’s free will provides man the unique opportunity to choose to live a Torah life, it also creates the possibility of failure.  In the next few posts we will discuss methods that can assist a person to assume a truly elevated existence.  We will explore ways to train oneself to study Torah and live a Torah lifestyle, and how to overcome the forces within that draw a person away from their divine obligation. 

We have already identified the Torah as the most valuable field of study for acquiring wisdom.  But how is one to undertake studying Torah?  What should be one’s engagement with Torah?  How does one truly study Torah? 

Regular Study

On the most basic level, man must dedicate himself, his whole self, to regular study of Torah.  Torah study must be engaged in with a seriousness and respect that reflects Torah’s importance.  This has ramifications for the way in which one studies,[1] and also demands that significant time and effort be invested to sit and study Torah seriously.[2]

Why is regular study so crucial?  The more a person studies Torah and is dedicated to the pursuit of wisdom, the more he becomes a man of the mind.  This is especially true by people who dedicate large amounts of their time to Torah study.  Such people are developing themselves to be people of the mind.  Always in thought, always considering the material they are studying, serious Torah learners are mindful people.  They gain a perspective on the world through the lens of Torah, for what they study provides a context in which to see the world around them.  Their unique human ability to think deeply and abstractly is practiced often and this transforms them into deep people that operate on a plane that transcends the merely practical aspects of life.   

A person of the mind will more readily make decisions in life that are informed and guided by his intellect, and not by his passions.  This in turn will allow him to live a life that reflects the knowledge he has learned.  He will easier implement and internalize what he has learned and identified as truth if he is a person that is dedicated to the mind.

The Rambam writes that regular study also distances a person from vices.  In describing methods to avoid immorality the Rambam writes that the best advice is to study Torah:

Chazal taught that a person should direct himself and his thoughts to Torah and fill his mind with wisdom, for a person is only overcome with elicit thoughts when his mind is free from wisdom.” (Hilchos Iysurei Biah 22:21)

Making Torah Primary

One’s dedication to Torah study need not be measured only by time or material covered.  Although there is a certain basic amount of time that must be dedicated to Torah study in order to see accomplishment, the primary dedication to Torah that is required of man is in terms of his perspective on Torah.

In Pirkei Avos we are told that a person must make his “Torah study primary, and his worldly occuptions secondary.”  In our day, it is not easy for a person to limit work time.  Indeed, the Rambam’s description of one who works for three hours a day is no longer feasible for most people (Hilchos Talmud Torah 1:12).  However, even if one has limited time for Torah study, it must be the highlight and goal of their day.

To truly succeed in the study of Torah, it cannot be viewed as a pastime or hobby.  Every day in Maariv we proclaim, “For [the words of Torah] are our life (כי הם חיינו).”  This means that we view Torah and its study as our primary purpose and that which provides our life with meaning.  To succeed in Torah one must view Torah study and Torah growth as one’s primary focus in life and that which he desires to be involved with whenever the opportunity arises.

This attitude is reflected in the blessing we make on Torah study.  We do not recite as our goal, “to learn Torah (ללמוד תורה),” but rather, “to be engaged with the words of Torah (לעסוק בדברי תורה).”  This reflects our occupation with Torah study.  The one who is engaged with Torah study, does not merely study Torah from time to time, but he lives Torah in the sense that it is what occupies his mind and what he thinks about, as the verse states “Oh, how I love Your Torah.  All day it is [the subject of] my discussions (מה אהבתי תורתך כל היום היא שיחתי).” 

The primacy of Torah for an individual seeking to climb the ladder of elevation and the absolute dedication to Torah that is manifest as a constant awareness of Torah, was beautifully described by R. Yosef Dov Soloveitchik in explaining why a new blessing is not recited every time one sits to study Torah, but is recited once at the beginning of the day,

When a mother plays with her child there is an acute awareness of the child. But even when the mother works at a job or is distracted by some other activity, there is a natural, latent awareness of her child's existence. This latent awareness remains throughout her entire lifetime and can never be extinguished. It is expressed in commitment, devotion, and in a feeling of identification, a feeling that I and the baby are one. The infant is the center of gravity of the parent's lives. They feel they cannot live without their child.
The same is true with regards to Torah. There may not be an acute awareness of Torah for twenty-four hours each day. But the latent awareness never ceases… This is the reason we say la’asok b'divrei Torah. La’asok implies that even when we are mentally involved with something else we are aware of Torah. This awareness of Torah should become part of one's I-awareness. Just as I am always aware of my existence without having to walk around saying ‘I exist, I exist,’ so should I be aware of Torah. (Shiurei Harav: A Conspectus of the Public Lectures of Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik)

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[1] Chazal (Berachos 22a) even demand that one’s personal study be similar to the Sinai experience, and that “Just as [at Sinai there] was fear, trembling, and shivering, so too (Torah study] must be done with fear, trembling, and shivering.”

[2] One of the verbs used to describe Torah study in the Torah is “שנן” – which the commentators explain to mean “sharp” or “fresh.”  The Torah states (Devarim 6:7), “And you shall teach (ושיננתם) your children,” and Chazal (Kiddushin 30a) teach from the usage of the word “ושיננתם” that this means: The words of Torah should be so crystal clear and fresh in a person’s mind that he can respond to any question without delay.  This is accomplished through serious study and constant review, as Rashi comments on this teachings of Chazal and says about the words of Torah, “Review them and explore their depths.”

Intro To Machshava: Rambam - The Ideal Form of Serving God (Part 2 of 2) [Rav Aryeh Leibowitz]

We discussed the view of the Rambam that the most ideal form of serving God is out of a desire to do the ultimate truth - “do what is true because it is true (עושה האמת מפני שהוא אמת)” - and not for any personal gain, not even to merit olam habah.  (Note: The Rambam obviously believes that there is reward and olam habah for one who serves Hashem, but that is not to be the driving force for such service.)

However, there are sources that could be understood to be encouraging one to serve Hashem to receive olam habah.  Firstly, it is important to consider the words of the Rambam himself earlier in Hilchos Teshuvah where he poetically describes – seemingly in an approving manner - the human craving for olam habah.  Additionally, other great Jewish thinkers, such as Rashi, were seemingly not bothered by one who serves Hashem for olam habah.  In the Mishnah in beginning of Pirkei Avos, Antigonus instructs a Jew trying to serve Hashem not to be like a servant who serves his master in order to get a “pras.” Rashi notes the Mishnah’s use of the word pras as opposed to sechar, and writes that pras refers specifically to reward in this world.  The implication of Rashi is that the Mishnah is only condemning serving Hashem for earthly reward and not condemning one who serves Hashem for sechar – reward in the next world.

Is serving for olam habah ideal or not?  Rav Tzadok ha-Kohen of Lublin suggests that it depends upon how one views olam habah. Some view olam habah as a world of enhanced physical pleasure.  This perspective is uncouth and incorrect.  The proper view sees olam habah as a place of heightened closeness to Hashem. Rav Tzadok argues that if one serves Hashem out of a desire to be “rewarded” with closeness to Hashem, then such service is ideal. 

Why is service of Hashem that seeks a “reward” of closeness to Hashem not an infringement of the Rambam’s principle “do what is true because it is true (עושה האמת מפני שהוא אמת)?”  I once read a parable that can answer our question.  What is the difference between a man who marries a woman because she is rich and he wants money, and a man who marries his wife because he wants a loving and caring relationship with her?  In both cases, the man is marrying her because “He” wants something.  The obvious difference is that money is not inherently connected to marriage, and becoming rich is not a fundamental result of marriage.  Hence engaging in matrimony purely to amass money is immoral.  However love and care are concepts that are inherently related to marriage and possessing a loving and caring relationship is a fundamental, even natural, result of marriage. Hence, it is not immoral or improper when one marries for such a goal. 

So too, in regards to avodas Hashem.  Because olam habah and the closeness to Hashem it affords is a natural and inherent result of serving Hashem, it is different than other “rewards” that are not intrinsically linked with service of Hashem. 

It remains that according to the Rambam serving Hashem with the intention of achieving olam habah, i.e. closeness to Hashem, is not the most ideal form of service, and the Rambam still encourages one to “do what is true because it is true (עושה האמת מפני שהוא אמת)” and not in order to receive a portion in olam habah.  However, we have shown that even for the Rambam such service is still not the same as other forms of service of God that are for mundane rewards.

(Adapted by Micah Hyman)

The Ri Ha-Zaken’s Opinion Regarding The Proper Location to Light Chanukah Candles [Rav Aryeh Leibowitz]

Originally posted here

There is a well-known dispute between Rashi and Tosafos regarding the proper place to light Chanukah candles.  The Braisa teaches (Shabbos 21b) that the candles should be lit “at the entrance of one’s home – outside (על פתח ביתו מבחוץ).”  Rashi understands the statement literally and states that the candles should be lit outside the door of one’s home.  Hence, the candles will be situated in one’s front yard – not in public property.   However, Tosafos (s.v. מצוה) argue and suggest that this Braisa, instructing one to light outside the door of his home, was addressing a specific case where one does not have a front yard, and the front door of his home opens into the public domain.  However, if one has a front yard, the correct place to light is outside the entrance to one’s front yard, with the candles situated in public property.  Tosafos provide two proof-texts to support their ruling.  One is from a later Braisia (23a) that states that if one’s yard has two entrances it needs candles at both entrances.  Tosafos conclude from this Braisa that the correct place to light is by the yard’s entrance and not the door of the house.  The view of Tosafos is accepted le-halacha by the Tur and Shulchan Aruch (siman 671).

However, two prominent Rishonim record an explanation attributed to the great Tosafist R. Isaac of Dampierre (Ri Ha-Zaken) that suggests that he was in agreement with Rashi.[1]  According to these later Rishonim, Ri taught that the Braisa requiring one to light at both entrances to his yard – which the printed Tosafos used to support their view – did not truly mean a yard with two entrances, but rather a home with two entrances.

Ri Ha-Zaken was one of the most illustrious Tosafists, and his lectures served as the basis for most of the printed Tosafos that appear on the margins of current day editions of the Talmud.  Indeed, the Bach (671 s.v. ומניחה) is perplexed that the opinion of “Tosafos” quoted in tractate Shabbos would not be consistent with the view of the Ri Ha-Zaken, since “anonymous Tosafos passages are from the Ri.” 

How do we address the concerns of the Bach?  Can the view of Ri be squared with the printed Tosafos?  A recently discovered manuscript provides the missing puzzle piece. 

Hundreds of Hebrew manuscripts from the period of the Rishonim are stored in libraries in the lands of the former USSR.  Behind the iron curtain, these manuscripts were inaccessible to the general public.  However, with the fall of the USSR in 1991, many of these libraries we opened to the world, and the Hebrew manuscripts were microfilmed and are now available to the general public.[2] One of the most significant manuscript collections for Torah study is the Gunzburg Collection housed in the National Library of Moscow.[3] In that collection, manuscript #636 is a previously unknown manuscript commentary on tractate Shabbos authored by a student of Ri Ha-Zaken and heavily based on Ri’s lectures.  The commentary contains many verbatim quotes from the Ri and captures many of his verbal formulations.  In 2007-2011, Machon Ofeq, headed by R. Avraham Shoshana, published this manuscript in two volumes as “Tosafot Ri Ha-Zaken ve-Talmido.”  This work contains many important contributions to the study of Tosafos on tractate Shabbos, for it is an earlier “layer” of the Tosafist teachings that eventually appeared in the printed Tosafos.[5]

In this manuscript commentary, the relevant passage for our discussion (21b s.v. בפתח) contains two important additions from the Ri.  First we are told that the Ri actually ruled like the view found in “Tosafos” and not Rashi.  The manuscript reads: “Therefore it appears to my teacher [= the Ri] that if one has a yard, lighting is to be done at the entrance to the yard, near the public domain (הלכך נראה לר' דהיכא דאיכא חצר מדליקין על פתח החצר הסמוך לרשות הרבים).” 

What about the explanation of Ri that is found in the later Rishonim?  This too is found in the manuscript commentary.  After stating Ri’s ruling, quoted above, the manuscript commentary quotes verbatim from Ri as follows: “However, I could suggest that the later [Braisa] of a yard with two entrances refers to a house with two entrances… accordingly, one would really light at the entrance to his house (ומיהו הייתי יכול לומר דההיא דלקמן דחצר שיש לה ב' פתחים היינו שיש לבית ה[פתוח] בה ב' פתחים... ולעולם מ[דליק] על פתחי הבית").”[5]

Thanks to this previously unknown manuscript we learn that the ruling of the printed Tosafos is not only consistent with the ruling of Ri, as the Bach anticipated, but is the ruling of the Ri.  The explanation of Ri recorded in the other Rishonim was merely an alternate perspective offered by Ri in his lecture to deflect the proof brought from the Braisa regarding a yard with two entrances.  Anyone familiar with Talmud lectures knows that the teacher will often suggest an alternative perspective or note a weakness when introducing a particular proof-text.  This apparently was the Ri’s intention when he prefaced this statement with, “I could suggest.”[6] It appears likely that the editors of Tosafos – in their desire to shorten the text – did not include this last statement by Ri in the Tosafos passage since it was merely a possible deflection offered in the flow of Ri’s lecture, and did not influence his conclusion.[7]

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[1] Sefer Mitzvot Gedolot (SeMaG), Aseh Derabonon 5, and Hagahot Maimoniot, Hilkhos Chanukah 4:10.  Note also Rashi, Shabbos 23a s.v. חצר.   The Semag is certainly a reputable source for the teachings of the Ri, as its author – R. Moshe of Coucy, France – was a student of R. Yehudah of Paris.  R. Yehudah was a student of Ri.  The Hagahot Maimoniot was compiled by R. Meir haKohen of Rothenburg, a German Tosafist who lived a few generation after the Ri.  

[2] For more information about how to access these microfilms, visit the website of the National Library of Israel’s Institute of Microfilmed Hebrew Manuscripts: http://web.nli.org.il/sites/NLI/English/collections/manuscripts/Pages/default.aspx

[3] For more about the Gunsberg collection and the story of Israel National Library’s attempt to purchase and transport it to Israel, see http://he.wikipedia.org/wiki/דוד_גינגבורג. 

[4] For more on the development of the printed Tosafos, and for the central role played by Ri’s academy in that process, see A. Leibowitz, “The Emergence and Development of Tosafot on the Talmud,” Hakirah 15 (2013): 143-163, accessible here: http://www.hakirah.org/Vol15Leibowitz.pdf.

[5] Ri’s conclusion does not take into account the other proof-text brought by Tosafos from the case of a candle with two wicks.  This will be addressed shortly. 

[6] Indeed, in this case the Tosafists still had another proof-text – the candle with two wicks – that was not deflected by Ri in this passage.

[7] That the editors of the printed Tosafos shortened the text of the earlier commentaries is well documented.  For Rishonim who note this phenomenon see Terumas ha-Deshen, #19, and She’elos u-Teshuvos Maharik, #160, #211.

Intro To Machshava: Rambam - The Ideal Form of Serving God (Part 1 of 2)

Rav Aryeh Leibowitz

Adapted by Micah Hyman

The Rambam wrote many important works.  His most important contribution in the world of halacha was his Yad HaChazakah, more commonly called the Mishnah Torah.  Although it is a halachic work, the Rambam also included select ideas in Jewish thought.  At the end of Hilchos Teshuvah the Rambam includes an important discussion about the ideal form of serving God.  He writes that a person should not do the mitzvos in order to reap reward in this world or even in the next world, nor should he avoid transgressing sin to avoid punishment in this world or the next.  Rather, one’s approach should be to “do what is true because it is true (עושה האמת מפני שהוא אמת)”.  The Rambam does not mean to say that there is no reward for the service of Hashem.  There certainly is!  But the Rambam is arguing that reward from Hashem should not be the drive to live a life of Torah and mitzvos.

Perhaps we can further understand this idea by using a philosophic concept described by the famous German philosopher Immanuel Kant.  Kant claimed that while most people’s actions in life are driven to achieve a desired goal, he believed that there ought to be actions that are done simply because of the action itself and irrespective of the gain or pleasure they provide.  If we apply this distinction to our discussion, the person who is serving Hashem for reward has chosen a desired goal (reward/avoidance of punishment), and views Torah and mitzvos as a means to get there.  This is not ideal, because Torah and mitzvos have become secondary to man’s primary goal of attaining pleasure and comfort.  In contrast, one who learns Torah and does mitzvos because they are true, is not acting based on a personal goal. The end goal is chosen objectively, and it is pursued simply because it is true and correct.

To further understand this concept, a parable is in order. When a child is three years old, giving him a lollipop will encourage him to act in a certain way.  When the child is twelve, a shiny bike will encourage behavior.  At age nineteen, a car; at age twenty five, money; at age fifty, fame; at seventy, to make a mark on the world.  The common denominator is that the person values the incentive.  In the same way, a person who serves Hashem for olam habah is also serving for a reward they value.  A three-year-old wants lollipops, a seventy year old wants to make a mark on the world, a pious Jew who values God wants olam habah.  Granted the desire to make a mark on the world is more sophisticated and elevated than the desire for a lollipop.  Are these not all examples of service for personal desire?  Realize that as a person becomes more sophisticated, so do his desires.  One who recognizes the value of olam habah has acquired a more sophisticated perspective on reward than the three year old child who wants a candy.  For this reason, the Rambam instructs a person that the highest form of service is because Torah is true, without any consideration of personal gain, even olam habah.

To be Continued….

Intro To Machshava: R. Bachya Ibn Paquda - Bitachon and Hishtadlus (Part 2 of 2)

Rav Aryeh Leibowitz

Adapted by Micah Hyman

Last week we discussed R. Bachya’s definition of bitachon and that a person should view God as the ultimate source for all that transpires.  This week, we address the issue of hishtadlus.  R. Bachya asks: If God is orchestrating the world, why do we need to do hishtadlus? 

He provides two perspective:

First, Hashem wants to test man. It isn’t difficult to have true bitachon when manna is falling from the sky.  However, when a man must work hard for his living, it is difficult to attribute his successes and failures to Hashem.  Moreover, the work place is ripe with tests of one’s bitachon.  Opportunities to cheat, or even cut corners, is one example.  If one truly believes that God provides parnasah, it would be obvious that God does not desire one to cheat to receive it.  Hence, the entire framework of hishtadlus provides opportunities to truly express our faith in God.

In addition, R. Bachya notes that the system of hishtadlus keeps man occupied.  When a person is busy with work, he has little time for sin. 

According to these reasons an interesting point emerges.  The amount of hishtadlus one needs to exert can be drastically reduced if a person is already in possession of true bitachon and uses his free time productively.  In such a situation, the primary reasons mentioned by R. Bachya are less applicable. 

In his discussion of hishtadlus, R. Bachya also emphasizes that hishtadlus does not function in the normal way of cause and effect.  That is, Hishtadlus does cause the effect, but only indirectly.  According to R. Bachya, exerting the proper and necessary histadlus is a condition to receive the bounty of God.  However, the effect is not the direct result of one’s hishtadlus.   In terms of livelihood, we would say that doing the necessary hishtadlus is needed so that you can receive the salary Hashem wants to give you.

In light of this perspective, one is advised to choose an enjoyable job, and seek out a profession that suits one’s natural abilities.   One needn’t over-concern himself with choosing the highest paying professions.  Better to find a job that will allow him to fulfill his “chiyuv hishtadlus” in the best way, and leave the actual salary to God.  It is always good to speak with a Rav and professional people familiar with your line of work to determine what hishtadlus is expected and what would constitute going beyond the chiyuv hishtadlus. 

Rabbeinu Bachya cautions that one maintain the proper perspective on hishtadlus. When one heads to work, he should realize that beyond the intrinsic value of his specific profession – for example, the fact that he heals people if he is a doctor or that he protects the right of the innocent or allows for proper commercial interactions if he is an attorney – his profession is a means of fulfilling his chiyuv hishtadlus.  This perspective will hopefully prevent a person from ever sacrificing his values to make extra money.  Remember, Hashem is in charge of the money, not you!

It should be noted that bitachon and hishtadlus are very broad topics, and different Rishonim held different views on these issues.

Intro To Machshava: R. Bachya Ibn Paquda - Bitachon and Hishtadlus

Rav Aryeh Leibowitz

Adapted by Micah Hyman

Rabbeinu Bachya Ibn Paquda authored an important work on Jewish thought and avodas Hashem, titled Chovos Ha-Levavos (Duties of the Heart).  In the introduction, R. Bachya defines two categories of mitzvos:

1. Chovos Ha-Evarim (lit. duties of the limbs - action based mitzvos), and
2. Chovos Ha-Levavos (lit. duties of the heart - belief based mitzvos). 

Nowadays many people mistakenly think that Judaism primarily cares about one’s actions, yet pays little attention to one’s beliefs.  R. Bachya’a two categories demonstrate the fallaciousness of such a perspective.

One of the prime examples of a “duty of the heart” discussed by R. Bachya is having faith (bitachon) in Hashem.  R. Bachya delves into the topic at length, dedicating an entire section to it.  Fascinatingly, before even defining bitachon, Rabbeinu Bachya tells us the benefits of possessing bitachon.   He states in no uncertain terms that one who possesses bitachon has serenity from the pressures of money, gains independence from other people, enjoys satisfaction with what he has, and is shielded from greed. Taken together, all of these benefits free a person from societal pressure and facilitate service of God.

Rabbeinu Bachya moves on to define bitachon.  He defines it as an acceptance of God’s complete control over the world, and a recognition that everything God does is for the best. This entails a belief in three essential facts: (1) Hashem knows what’s best for a person, (2) He has the ability to provide for man, (3) He has the desire to do what is best for man. 

R. Bachya’s definition begs important questions.  One is: If God is in control of the world and does what is best for man, how is one to relate to personal suffering?  Readers might ask: Does having bitachon require a person to be “happy” in the face of suffering? 

This question was tackled by the Chazon Ish.  He suggests that having bitachon does not require a person to ignore normal human emotions.  Rather, it demands of man to intellectually affirm that everything is from God.  When something tragic happens, it is human and appropriate, to mourn and shed a tear.  This does not contradict a person’s ability to acknowledge God’s role in the events.  A person possessing bitachon must be cognizant of the fact that nothing happens without God’s approval and in the grand scheme of things – not necessarily from man’s earthly vantage point - this too must be beneficial. 

A tension point in this discussion is the need for hishtadlus – our requirement to put in our own effort.  The need for hishtadlus is obvious, as Rabbeinu Bachya points out with an amusing anecdote: A man lies in an orchard, but refuses to go get himself an apple. By a stroke of luck, someone brings the man an apple. Still, he needs to do the hishtadlus of putting it into his mouth. Even if his acquaintance puts into his mouth, he still needs to swallow.

To be continued….

Intro To Machshava: Rav Sa'adiah Gaon II - The Root of Heresy (Part 2 of 2)

Rav Aryeh Leibowitz

Adapted by Micah Hyman

Last week we discussed Rav Sa’adiah Gaon claim that one of the reasons people become heretics is due to taivah - unbridled passions and unchecked desires.  We began to explore this perspective by noting R. Yehudah Ha-Levi’s argument that the world itself is the greatest proof of a creator. 

Based upon R. Yehudah Ha-Levi argument, Rav Elchonon Wasserman establishes a sweeping principle: belief in God is obvious and simple. According to Rav Elchonon, it does not require great intellectual prowess to believe in God.

Of course, such a claim just begs a further question: Why then, are there so many atheists in this world? Rav Elchonon answers with the principle of shochad – bribery. Any judge, no matter how sagacious or pious, is prohibited from judging a case where he received even a penny from one of the litigants. This halacha is predicated on the principle that human psyche cannot resist the effects of a bribe. So too in the realm of belief, claims R. Elchonon.  We are all bribed by our physical desires, and this fact of human psyche affects our ability to see the truth.

In other words: There are many pleasures in this world, and the main obstruction to hedonistic impulses is a religious system that dictates behavior and curbs indulgences. Once a person’s desires have control over him, it is very challenging to accept the yoke of a religion, and therefore a person who does not appreciate the beauty of Torah, see its laws as extremely limiting and constrictive. 

However, unbiased eyes look at the world and see the hand of a Creator.  For this reason, says R. Elchonon, heresy is tied to the heart.  Hersey is not truly an intellectual issue, but instead is the product of a desiring heart.

Rav Dessler also raises the question of the sincerity of many people’s doubts.  He acknowledges that some people do have sincere intellectual questions whose answers are not forthcoming.  These are real doubts and should not be disregarded or ridiculed.  But, there are other doubts that only exist because a person wants to have a doubt.  Rav Dessler says one needs to determine if his questions would truly bother an outside observer, or are they crafted (often subconsciously) in order to achieve a different purpose.

Hence, we are not claiming that it is impossible that a person might have a sincere doubt or question about the veracity of religion.  We are merely noting that in the case of many doubters, the questions did not begin as intellectual problems.  Rather, often the desire to not have to believe leads to the intellectual problems.  R. Sa’adiah Gaon encourages a person to be brutally honest with himself, and seek to determine the source of his doubts.

Indeed, it is unfortunately not uncommon for people to seek out (consciously or subconsciously) intellectual arguments to justify their pre-decided upon lifestyle and to “intellectualize” their unwillingness to sacrifice their personal agendas for the will of God.  Hence, we find a person who reads an abridged article in Reader’s Digest on biblical criticism, and then decides that he is enough of a bible expert to feel vindicated that he does not follow halacha.

I heard once from a kiruv professional at a major institution that caters to brilliant college educated baalei teshuvah that 99% of the time that a student is “hung-up” and unable to overcome an intellectual problem with Judaism, there ends up being a behind-the-scenes personal issue, such as a non-Jewish girlfriend, a strong desire for certain vices, monetary issues, etc. 

This is why it is important to speak to someone about your doubts – so they can help you distinguish if your questions are truly intellectual questions (and if the pursuit of answers has a chance of ever resolving your doubts).  If, indeed, a real intellectual problem arises: that’s great! Look into it! Study it!  Rav Sa’adiah Gaon writes that only a perfect mind doesn’t have doubts, and Rav Wolbe is quoted as saying that there are no “heretical questions, only heretical answers.” Judaism as a religion encourages questions – just look at the Gemara! Doubt is a healthy manifestation of a thinking Jew. It is imperative, however, to clarify what kind of doubt one is dealing with.

Intro To Machshava: Rav Sa'adiah Gaon II - The Root of Heresy (Part 1 of 2)

Rav Aryeh Leibowitz

Adapted by Micah Hyman

Rav Sa’adiah Gaon writes in Emunos Ve-Deos (Section 12) that one of the reasons people become heretics is due to taivah - unbridled passions and unchecked desires.  Readers of Rav Sa’adiah might ask: How does taivah lead to heresy?  What is the connection between the two?  Is heresy not a function of the intellect, while taivah a function of the body? 

Perhaps, we can understand Rav Sa’adiah by first studying an essay penned by Rav Elchonon Wasserman in his Kovetz Maamarim.  R. Elchonon opens with three questions. Firstly, the Gemara learns from the verse quoted in shema, “Do not stray after you heart,” that there is a prohibition to pursue heretical teachings.  If the topic of concern is hersey, why does the verse not say “do not stray after your mind?”  (This is essentially our question above on Rav Sa’adiah Gaon). Secondly, how can there be a commandment to believe in Hashem? If you already believe, then there is no need to be commanded to believe.  If you do not believe, what will a commandment accomplish?  Having a formal commandment does not foster belief!  Lastly, how can Hashem command a thirteen-year-old Bar Mitzvah boy to believe in God, when Aristotle and many brilliant philosophers struggled with belief their entire lives?

To answer these questions, Rav Elchonon quotes from the 11^th century work Chovos Ha-Lavavos.  There we find the so-called “argument from design.”  The roots of this proof are found in chazal.  A heretic once asked Rebbe Akiva to prove that the world has a creator. Rebbe Akiva responded by asking for a proof that the heretic’s sweater was made by a tailor. He then turned to his Talmidim and remarked: “Just as the sweater is the greatest proof of the tailor, the door the greatest proof of the carpenter, and the house the greatest proof of the architect – so too the world is the greatest proof of God.”

The 12^th century Rabbi Yehuda ha-Levi tells the story of an atheist philosopher who was writing poetry. The last line of the poem eluded him, so after struggling for a period, he arose for a quiet stroll outside. Upon his return, he saw an old Rabbi was sitting at his desk and a beautiful last line now graced his poem. The philosopher inquired as to the line’s origin, and the rabbi responded apologetically, “I came by, knocked over your inkwell, and it spilled all over your poem – I’m terribly sorry. Those words on the paper are just how the ink coagulated.”

“Impossible!” snorted the philosopher, “The meter, the rhyming scheme, the metaphor – everything in that line is an absolute perfect fit!”  The Rabbi retorted, “But every crevice of the universe is perfectly designed and yet you attribute its origin to chance.  How is this any different?”

The only reason we don’t find the natural world astounding is because we grow accustomed to nature as a child - when we don’t have the capabilities to appreciate the complex systems governing Earth. Then, by the time we have matured intellectually, we are accustomed to all the features of our world. Imagine a child coming out the womb with full intellectual cognition.  Would not everything he sees, from beautiful sunsets to the ocean waves to the force of gravity, be an amazing testament to the Creator!

To be continued next week…

Parsha: Noach - Who is a Tzadik?

Rav Aryeh Leibowitz

The Torah refers to two individuals as “tzadik” – Noach and Yosef.   What links these two great men?  What common trait earns them alone the title “tzadik?” 

Both Noach and Yosef provided for others - Noach in the teiva feeding the multitudes of animals and Yosef as the viceroy of Egypt feeding the inhabitants of Egypt (Midrash Tanchuma).  It was their concern for others and their willingness to sacrifice for them that gained Noach and Yosef the title “tzadik.”  

In fact, we find in both of their respective situations another manifestation of their sensitivity to the plight of others.  Noach and Yosef both found themselves in situations where others were suffering, while they experienced relative comfort.  Noach enjoyed the protection of the teiva as the outside world suffered.  Yosef enjoyed the bounty of Pharaoh’s palace, while the general population starved.  How did they react to their respective situations?  Chazal highlight that both refrained from marital intimacy throughout the tenure of the ordeals, for they deemed this behavior to be inappropriate in light of the plight of those around them.  Here too, we see the tremendous sensitivity for others that these two great men exhibited.

  

The Torah teaches us by calling only these two men “tzadik” that providing for others and being sensitive to their circumstances is the definition of a true tzadik.  Indeed, the word “Tzadik” (צדיק) comes from the root “tzedek” (צדק), which is generally used in Tanach to refer specifically to proper behavior between man and man - mitzvot bein adam le-chaveiro (See Malbim, bi’ur ha-milim, Yeshaya 51:1). 

The importance of how we treat others is also borne out from the end of our parsha.  One notes that the generation of the flood was utterly destroyed, while the generation of the tower of Bavel did not suffer destruction.  Why did Hashem deem the sin of the tower builders, who rejected the dominion of Hashem, less offensive than the generation of the flood, who stole and cheated?  Chazal teach us that from here we see that sins between man and man are far more egregious in the eyes of Hashem than those between man and God.  

Intro To Machshava: Rav Sa'adiah Gaon - Faith and Doubt (Part 2 of 2)

Rav Aryeh Leibowitz

Adapted by Micah Hyman

Last week, we discredited the approach of those who fail to acknowledge their own intellectual shortcoming and the “Descartian” approach of rejecting one’s own tradition.  We will now be able to better explore and appreciate Rav Sa’adiah’s approach.  Rav Sa’adiah writes that the quest for deep emunah should be based upon intellectual inquiry coupled with a unwavering faith in the masorah. 

Rav Sa’adiah Gaon himself saw great proof of God and Torah in the miracle of manna.  For him, it is a great testament to the veracity of Jewish history.  The question he poses is simple: If the manna never happened, how was such a lie started? It is so hard to keep secrets, even when two people are in on the secret.  In the desert there were a million Jewish people.  One million people in on a lie?!  All it would take is for one idealistic person to denounce the falsehood and the great lie would be exposed. 

In addition to the manna, Rav Sa’adiah also points to the public revelation of the Torah. Precisely because a lie of such epic proportion would be so hard to “pull off,” it is not coincidental that only Judaism claims public revelation.

Rav Simcha Zissel discusses another proof for the masorah, the historical record. Mark Twain expressed this point eloquently:

If statistics are right, the Jews constitute but one percent of the human race. It suggests a nebulous dim puff of stardust lost in the blaze of the Milky Way. Properly, the Jew ought hardly to be heard of, but he is heard of, has always been heard of. He is as prominent on the planet as any other people, and his commercial importance is extravagantly out of proportion to the smallness of his bulk. His contributions to the world’s list of great names in literature, science, art, music, finance, medicine, and abstruse learning are also away out of proportion to the weakness of his numbers. He has made a marvelous fight in this world, in all the ages; and had done it with his hands tied behind him. He could be vain of himself, and be excused for it.  

The Egyptian, the Babylonian, and the Persian rose, filled the planet with sound and splendor, then faded to dream-stuff and passed away; the Greek and the Roman followed; and made a vast noise, and they are gone; other people have sprung up and held their torch high for a time, but it burned out, and they sit in twilight now, or have vanished. The Jew saw them all, beat them all, and is now what he always was, exhibiting no decadence, no infirmities of age, no weakening of his parts, no slowing of his energies, no dulling of his alert and aggressive mind. All things are mortal but the Jew; all other forces pass, but he remains. What is the secret of his immortality?”

From Rav Sa’adiah Gaon’s Philosophy we learn that Judaism values doubting, questioning and probing – if it is done with profound respect for Jewish history, and a preexisting faith in the validity of the masorah. The tension between intellectual inquiry and accepting the masorah is a cornerstone of Judaism. Every Jew also must understand that the presence of doubt and the drive for intellectual inquiry is an expected and necessary part of living a religiously engaged life. The uncertainty shouldn’t induce fear or concern, as it takes time to find answers.  Probe, study, and question, and in the dark moments of doubt, take comfort in the light of our masorah. 

Intro To Machshava: Rav Sa'adiah Gaon - Faith and Doubt (Part 1 of 2)

Rav Aryeh Leibowitz

Adapted by Micah Hyman

Rav Sa’adiah Gaon in Emunos V’Deos writes that there are many people who say that it is heretical to intellectually explore theological issues; better, they say, to simply accept the tradition. They claim: Our fathers and Rebbeim were sure God existed, that He was incorporeal and created the world from nothing. We should accept this too. 

Rav Sa’adiah argues that this approach disregards the most elevated gift that God gave man: a mind capable of abstract cognition. That brilliant tool was not only given so that we could create automobiles and skyscrapers, but also, and primarily, to perceive God (albeit in a limited fashion). 

Rav Sa’adiah Gaon acknowledges that heretical problems can arise from philosophizing, but that is only if it is done in the “secular” fashion. In this context “secular” means the form of philosophy practiced by the Greeks, who only accepted things that could readily be verified. Years later, the Ramban in a famous comment would criticize Aristotle for this attitude. One can compare this attitude to an individual sitting in one of Einstein’s physics lecture.  As he hears complex physic concepts being discussed he is confused and does not understanding anything.  In response to his lack of understanding he foolishly concludes that Einstein does not know what he’s talking about! How much more so is this true when trying to comprehend God’s existence and essence, which are by nature beyond all human conception. Who is man to declare God nonexistent, when his feeble mind can barely remember what he had for breakfast last Sunday?! In Jewish philosophy, Rav Sa’adiah argues, one must begin with the premise of a God who is beyond complete understanding.  It is that premise that must guide our search. 

Rav Simcha Zissel in Chochma U’Mussar discredits another troublesome approach to philosophy that is found in the modern philosophic world. The father of that school, René Descartes, wrote, “If you would be a real seeker after truth, it is necessary that at least once in your life you doubt, as far as possible, all things.” Rav Simcha Zissel writes that a Jew ought not subscribe to this approach of absolute skepticism. We Jews possess a rich and ancient tradition.  Why should we discard that and instead leave belief to our own minds only?  Rather, all intellectual inquiry ought to take place within the context of the accepted truth of our masorah. The Mahabit writes in his Beis Elohim that once one fully affirms the masorah, then one absolutely can and should “doubt, as far as possible, all things.” By using this method of “acceptance and then inquiry”, we are able to fall back on the pure truth of our masorah if we ever come across a theological problem. Indeed, Rav Soloveitchik wrote in Lonely Man of Faith that he was never bothered by the questions of Torah and science that plague the brains of many modern Jews. Based on a comment of Rav Mayer Twersky, it can be suggested that the truth of Torah was so part of the very fiber of the Rav’s perception of reality that no question could shake his faith.  There were no threats to his rock-solid beliefs.  Reconciling apparent questions would only be an exercise in “intellectual gymnastics.”

Knowledge of God through Torah Study (Why We Learn Torah Series - Part 7)

Rav Aryeh Leibowitz

We have explored the value of human intuition and the study of science and nature for acquiring knowledge of Hashem.  However, these are not the fields of study that will lead man to the ultimate truth.  Only Torah study can provide man with the complete and absolute truth.[1] 

This principle is expressed in Tehillim 19.  The Psalmist begins with seven verses extolling the virtue of studying the world as a means to gaining a deeper perception of God.  The psalmist proclaims that the sky with all of its planets and stars “declare the glory of God (מספרים כבוד קל).”  The nights “reveal knowledge” (יחוה דעת), and the sun, although it does not speak, demonstrates God’s greatness (אין אומר ואין דברים בלי נשמע קולם בכל הארץ יצא קום).”    But after these seven verses, the Psalmist proclaims, “The Torah of Hashem is perfect (תורת ה' תמימה)” and, “The statues of God are trustworthy, they make the fool wise (עדות ה' נאמנה מחכמת פתי).”  The message of the psalm is that with all of the value of nature notwithstanding, Torah study is the greater value.  It is specifically Torah study that has the ability to take a person’s perception to a whole new level.[2] 

Perhaps this message is also the intention of the Mishna in Pirkei Avos 3:7,

One who is walking along the path and is studying [Torah], and then interrupts his learning and says, “How beautiful is this tree! How beautiful is this plowed field!,” such a person is considered to be guilty with his life.

The Mishna is not teaching that the contemplation of nature, or even the appreciation of its beauty is of no value.  Rather the Mishna is comparing the study of nature with the study of Torah.  One who is walking on the road and contemplating God’s creations is certainly behaving meritoriously.  However, not if he interrupts Torah study, which is the surest path to the truth.[3]

The most direct avenue to knowledge of God is the study of Torah.  We suggested earlier that the study of Torah provides access to God’s perspective.  Well, the more one becomes familiar with how God “thinks,” the more he actually knows God himself.   Lehavdil, when one studies an author’s writings it does not only provide insight into the thinking of the author, but also provide a prospective on the author himself.  Similarly, the study of God’s Torah does not only familiarize the reader with the thinking of God, but actually provides a perspective into the essence of God Himself. 

But with God this principle is much truer than with a regular author.  Unlike the average author, God created the Torah with the express intent of it being a medium for knowing Him and His world.  Chazal teach that the word “Anochi (אנכי)” in the beginning of the Ten Commandments – God’s opening declaration to the Jewish nation – is an acronym for “I have attached my essence to this writing (אנא נפשי כתבית יהבית).”  The idea being that Hashem created Torah as a medium for knowing – to some degree – His essence. Indeed, we are told by Chazal “These words [of Torah] should be placed upon your heart – For through this you will come to recognize God” (Sifrei, Ve-Eschanan 8).  

That Torah provides a window into the essence of God is also expressed in Bamidbar 12:8, where the Torah states about Moshe that he saw the “picture (תמונת ה' יביט)” of God.  The Chofetz Chaim comments on this verse that Torah is like a photograph of Hashem, as it reveals God’s attributes and presents a person with a greater understanding of God.  Along these lines, the Maharal of Prague suggests that Torah is called a tree, in the famous verse “עץ חיים היא,” because a tree is a direct outgrowth of its roots. So too, Torah is a direct outgrowth of the root of all creation – God.   Again, we find a cryptic line in the Ramban’s introduction to his commentary on Torah that the verses of the Torah are the “names” of God.  The Maharsha explains (Berachos 21a) that a name generally serves to be a description of something.  The Torah is, in a sense, a description of God and hence Ramban refers to its verses as the “names” of God. 

In conclusion we see that one who studies Torah comprehensively and deeply will gain tremendous insight into the essence of God.  In fact, studying Torah is the most elevated pursuit of man, and is the most “human” thing that a person can do.  This is because Torah study is an exercise in man using his most elevated faculty and applying it to acquire the most elevated knowledge in creation.[4]

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[1] Do not err and think that the passages from the Rambam quoted earlier from Hilchos Yesodei ha-Torah and Hilchos Teshuva about studying science to acquire love of God imply that the study of nature is supreme.  When one reads the full context of Hilchos Teshuva it is clear that the Rambam is not coming to solely encourage the study of nature.  It is clear from the preeceding halachos that Torah study is what the Rambam is encouraging.  In the above quoted passage the Rambam is merely adding that it is also worthy to set aside time to study nature as well.   

This reading is buttressed by some of the other writings of the Rambam on the topic of cultivating love of God.  In these contexts, the Rambam implicitly encourages Torah study as that which will cultivate love of God.  This is seen, for example, in his Sefer Ha-Mitzvos #3, “The third commandment is that we were commanded to love God.  This is accomplished by contemplating and understanding His commandments and His deeds until we come to an understanding of Him.”  Understanding God’s “deeds” may very well be a reference to studying the created world, although it could also refer to history.  However, the charge to understand God’s “commandments” is seemingly a directive to study Torah.   In the Moreh Nevuchim, the Rambam goes even further as he states that it is specifically the study the Torah that will bring a person to love of God, and he makes no mention there of the study of nature (Moreh Nevuchim, III:52),  “The principle that we are taught by the Torah, which are knowledge of [God’s] existence and His unity, are principle that will [also] teach us love [of God]… Love [of God] comes via the principle of the Torah.”  It emerges from the Rambam, that although he encourages the study of science, a field that can teach a person the truths of reality and even a bit about the truths of God Himself, the ultimate source for knowledge of truth is the Torah. 

[2] Indeed, the number of verses here are of significance.  The number seven is generally associated with the natural order, and hints to the seven days of creation.  For this reason there are seven verses describing the natural world and its ability to proclaim the glory of God.  But the number eight reflects a step beyond nature.  Hence, the eighth verse in this psalm corresponds to Torah, which is beyond the natural world.  See Maharal, Tiferes Yisrael, Chapter 2, and Derech Chayim 6:2). 

[3] The study of science and nature has its limits, but the study of Torah takes precedence over the study of these other fields.  The Maharal (Derech Chaim 6:2) suggests that for this reason the Torah’s description of creation starts with the letter beis (ב'), whereas the Ten Commandments begin with alef (א').  This letter choice serves to hint that Torah takes precedence over nature.  

[4] This provides a new perspective on those who spend large amounts of time studying in-depth Gemara.  Many such people often place a tremendous stress on abstract areas of study.  They sit for hours trying to figuring out an abstract, non-practical minutia of law.  They will spend hours trying to decipher a position in the Gemara that is ultimately rejected.  Why is this?  On one hand, one can say that this shows a real dedication to God and to Torah study.  When a person benefits practically from something so then there is always another motivation for one’s involvement.  Indeed, studying something just for the sake of study is the ultimate sign of dedication to the cause and of a love of the law giver.  But we can now understand an additional perspective.  The more abstract and sophisticated the study, the more it reflects man’s unique elevated capabilities.  From a certain perspective, the more the study is non-practical, the more it reflects one’s humanity.  Such study highlights man’s unique abstract mind and his ability to transcend the practical.  Indeed, Laws that are today less applicable, and especially those that are more abstract, such as many of laws of ritual purity, are specifically reflective of man’s elevated level.  What makes man’s mind so unique is its ability to consider abstract thoughts.   An in-depth study of an abstract concept or topic is distinctly human.  Studying abstract Torah is using one’s most elevated faculty – his mind – to study the most elevated field of study – Torah – in the most elevated way – abstract thinking.