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Growing Up by Rav Moshe Weinberger
From the Fire
Parshas Eikev Growing Up
By Rav Moshe Weinberger Adapted for publication by Binyomin Wolf
What is the nature of the transition of a young man or woman from a child, who is exempt from the mitzvos and punishments of beis din, to bar or bas mitzvah, when he or she is obligated to observe the mitzvos and is subject to the punishments of beis din (Chulin 12a, Sanhedrin 68b; Chagigah 2a; etc.)? Teshuvos HaRashba (Yi’ud Rishonim) explains that a child under bar or bas mitzvah is halachically not considered a bar daas, possessing mature intellect. No one should be offended by this. Even a genius like the Vilna Gaon was exempt from mitzvos as a child. The Rashba explains that the fact that a child is not a bar daas is a halachah l’Moshe miSinai, a direct transmission from Sinai.
Let us look at this more closely. What is the precise nature of this change in intellectual maturity between childhood and adulthood? The Navi Yeshayahu, who offers us so much consolation regarding the upcoming redemption in the haftarahs we read in the seven weeks after Tisha B’Av, also describes eighteen serious challenges the Jewish people will face at different times in history.
The Gemara (Chagigah 14a) explains, based on pesukim in Yeshayahu, the nature of the malady of our generation, the last one before Moshiach at the end of time. Our generation is also hinted at in the name of our parshah, Eikev, which means “heel,” the last and least part of the body. But it also a hint at the fact that our generation is the generation of ikvisa d’Moshicha, the footsteps of Moshiach. What is the main issue plaguing us? “The youth will elevate himself over the elder and the lightweight over the honored one” (Yeshayahu 3:5). The Gemara explains that this means that for the youth and the lightweight, “serious things appear to him as insignificant.” Regardless of a child’s intellectual acumen, the key sign of intellectual maturity is the ability to recognize the true importance of important things and not ascribe undue significance to trivial matters. As the Yerushalmi (Brachos 5:2) says, “Without intellectual maturity, how can one make distinctions?” Rav Yerucham Levovitz, the Mirrer Mashgiach, zt”l, writes that one of the most fundamental principles of Yiddishkeit is to properly understand the importance of things. The pasuk at the beginning of our parsha (Devarim 7:12) says, “And it will be, because you will heed these laws...” Rashi explains that this refers to the mitzvos one tends to take lightly. The Torah is telling us we must listen to these mitzvos just like we listen to the other laws. We must recognize their importance despite the fact that people usually take them lightly. And the Mishnah in Avos (2:1) says, “Be as careful with a ‘light’ mitzvah as with a ‘heavy’ one, for you do not know the reward of mitzvos.” The evil inclination’s main goal in this generation is to cause people, both adults and children, to shrug off profound matters as insignificant and give great deference and respect to trivial things.
Many adults today fail to recognize what is and is not important. A frum Jew will scoff at a man studying in kollel for twenty years, calling him a bench-warmer. But a moment later he will discuss A-Rod’s retirement with the greatest admiration and respect. While there is nothing wrong with appreciating a human being’s ability to hit a ball, the inability to understand what is important in life and what is insignificant is profoundly disappointing.
The Gemara (Sotah 49b) says that “at the time of the footsteps of Moshiach, chutzpah will increase... and [people will perceive that] the wisdom of the scholars becomes putrid.” The chutzpah we see in both children (and adults who think like children) today is a function of the lack of daas, intellectual and spiritual maturity.
Being an adult means knowing that major spiritual potential exists in every encounter one has with others. Every single conversion with another person is an opportunity to give a kind word, offer encouragement, or spread positivity and light.
Simply consider Rivka Imeinu. She offered a drink to Eliezer, as well as his camels. The Torah spends pasuk after pasuk relating the details of this ostensibly insignificant act of kindness. Hashem obviously wanted us to understand that we would not be who we are and that our people would not be complete without this act of kindness, which ultimately was the sign by which Eliezer made the match between Rikva and Yitzchak. This couple then formed the foundation of the Jewish people, who are the building blocks of a long process ultimately culminating in the redemption at the end of time. The Torah wants us to understand the deep significance in every act of kindness.
Contemplate the kindness of Shifra and Puah, also known as Yocheved and Miriam. They took care of and comforted suffering Jewish babies during Pharaoh’s mass slaughter of Jewish children. All they did was what comes naturally to any mother. They cooed and comforted crying children. Yet their quiet acts of kindness formed the basis for the birth of Moshe Rebbeinu, our redemption from Egypt, and the Jewish people’s acceptance of the Torah shortly afterward, all of which are the precursor of the ulti-
mate redemption. Hashem wants us to understand that the details in life are not so minor. Profound significance is hidden within them if only we recognize their true importance and seize the subtle opportunities for greatness hidden in day-to-day life.
It is a sign of childish immaturity to only appreciate things that seem “big” and important. But truly “big” people recognize the importance of the things that seem small to others. For example, the individuals who currently or have previously served as president of our shul over the years are important people in their respective professions. Yet they involve themselves in the countless myriad of details that are an inherent part of maintaining the daily operation of the shul. That is true greatness.
Rav Yerucham, who lived at the beginning of the twentieth century, recounts how, in his time, using microscopes, scientists were just discovering entire ecosystems, whole worlds, in objects and organisms smaller than a grain of sand. He saw in this a tremendous lesson. If so much exists in mere physical objects, how much more greatness must be hidden in the thoughts, words, and actions of a Jew. He explains, “This is the work of Mussar, to magnify things. Because of the weakness of our vision and the frailty of our hearts, we do not see the greatness of things. But Mussar is the ‘magnifying glass’ allowing us to gaze deeply into the inner essence of things...to draw out from everything the greatness hidden within every detail.”
Consider the mitzvah of bringing one’s first fruits to Yerushalayim. There is no defined minimum amount one must bring. Therefore, one may technically fulfill his Torah obligation by bringing even one seed from one of his fruits, thereby fulfilling his obligation for an expansive field. One tiny seed could justify a person using the prayer found in the Torah (Devarim 26:15), “Look down from Your holy dwelling, from Heaven, and bless Your nation Israel and the land that You gave us, just as You swore to our fathers...” And the Gemara (Sotah 39a-b) explains that, when a Jew fulfills the mitzvah to bring first fruits, the kohanim would offer the prayer, “Master of the World! We have done what you have decreed of us. Now do with us what you promised us!”
How can all of this be? It is possible that while everyone else comes to Yerushalyim bringing baskets and baskets of luscious fruits to the Beis HaMikdash, one particular Jew brings just one tiny seed to fulfill his obligation and this justifies such profound prayers? The fact that it can is a lesson to us that we cannot judge the importance of an object or act by looking at how big or small it is. We must look deeply to see what significance the Torah places on it.
In Rabbi Joseph Telushkin’s book released on the twentieth yahrtzeit of the Lubavitcher Rebbe, zy”a (p. 204), he recounts the following story that illustrates this beautifully:
In 1982, Rabbi Moshe Kotlarsky, who today directs development for the global network of shluchim, was asked by Rabbi Chaim Hodakov, the Rebbe’s chief of staff, to visit the small Jewish community on the Caribbean island of Curaçao and deliver a speech about Judaism there. One of those who attended Kotlarsky’s talk was a man named Chaim Yosef Groisman, who seemed startled that a representative of Chabad had come to his hometown. Decades earlier, Groisman’s grandmother had told him that if he ever encountered a difficult, seemingly insurmountable problem, the person to whom he should turn was the Lubavitcher Rebbe. Now, indeed, Groisman had a problem, and a representative of the Rebbe had come to Curaçao. Groisman consulted with Rabbi Kotlarsky, who was able to assist him. Shortly thereafter he wrote Rabbi Kotlarsky a warm letter thanking him, and asked him “to tell the Rebbe that a small Jew from Curaçao felt that the Rebbe…touched my soul.”
Rabbi Kotlarsky sent a copy of the letter to the Rebbe, who was moved by Groisman’s heartfelt thanks, though distressed by one aspect of the man’s warm regards: “I must take exception to your referring to yourself as ‘a small Jew from Curaçao,’” he wrote to Groisman. “Every Jew, man or woman, has a soul which is part of G-dliness above, as explained in the Tanya. Thus, there is no such thing as ‘a small Jew,’ and a Jew must never underestimate his or her tremendous potential.”
Every Jew, every detail, has such potential packed within it. May we merit being big people and may we merit spiritual, intellectual, and emotional maturity, thereby finally earning the complete fulfillment of that which we say in kedushah in Mussaf on Shabbos: “Indeed I will redeem you, the last ones like the first ones, to be to you G-d, I am Hashem your G-d.”
Rav Moshe Weinberger, shlita, is the founding Morah d’Asrah of Congregation Aish Kodesh in Woodmere, NY, and serves as leader of the new mechina Emek HaMelech.
