Parshat
Va’etchanan - 5779
Matters
of the Heart
Some of you may
recall a hilarious Staples commercial from the 1996. With the holiday classic
“It’s the most wonderful time of the year” playing in the background, it shows
a father prancing through the aisles as he pulls random items off the shelves,
ecstatically throwing them into his shopping cart, while his two children trail
behind him mournfully. This commercial highlights the conflicting perspectives
on this unique season; On the one hand, it is at once a period of returning to
school, which entails a number of mind-numbing yet essential items on a
checklist; from filling out assorted medical forms to registering kids for hot
lunch, coordinating carpool and purchasing last minute clothing and school
supplies. But it is also a period in which we are returning from camp and
summer vacations. This presents us adults with another daunting challenge.
School or not, how can we match the excitement of the previous two months? There are no night activities, field days, shiriyah or color war. Moreover, the
spiritual content is likely to pale in comparison. For many kids who were at
camp, davening had become an engaging event; Shabbos was prepared for with
great fanfare, from cleaning your bunk to getting dressed in blue and white
Shabbos clothes. Zemiros were sung at every Shabbos meal and havdalah had the
intensity that Neilah could only hope to attain. And then our kids come home
and the harsh reality comes crashing down upon them. Shul is not engaging, so it
is not attended- or at least not on time.
The Shabbos table does not feature the same wild energy and familiar
camp chants. So not only do our children have to participate in the drudgery of
returning “back to school” they are also dealing with the rude awakening of
returning “back from camp.”
The visceral
response of spiritually in-tune parents and community is to look inward and ask
ourselves - why is my child so uninspired?
What happened with that enthusiastic boy or girl who greeted me on
visiting day? Why must we ship them out
if we wish to inspire them? Why is our community spiritually stagnant, dull and
lackluster by comparison? To be sure, these are valid questions and there is
much for us to work on. However, in the spirit of Shabbos Nachamu, this
morning, I have come to bring comfort to my people, and to suggest that
notwithstanding some modifications, we are not actually doing it wrong at all.
There is a
familiar verse in our parsha, one which we recite twice a day -
דברים פרק ו
(ה) וְאָ֣הַבְתָּ֔ אֵ֖ת
יְקֹוָ֣ק
אֱלֹהֶ֑יךָ
בְּכָל־לְבָבְךָ֥ וּבְכָל־נַפְשְׁךָ֖ וּבְכָל־ מְאֹדֶֽךָ:
And
you shall love The Lord, your God with all your heart, with all of your soul
and with all of your possessions.
Rashi, explaining
the phrase בכל נפשך
ובכל
מאדך,
cites the Talmud that one must serve even if it means paying the ultimate
price:
רש"י דברים פרשת ואתחנן פרק ו
ובכל
נפשך
- אפילו
הוא
נוטל
את
נפשך:
ובכל
מאדך
- בכל
ממונך
יש
לך
אדם
שממונוע
חביב
עליו
מגופו
לכך
נאמר
ובכל
מאדך.
We just read the
story of Rabbi Akiva and his counterparts who were willing to give up their
lives for kiddush Hashem. And we all know people who have willingly
spent every last dollar to ensure Jewish continuity.
In this context “בכל”
means a willingness to serve God even in the absence of that which is most
precious.
However, this
drasha translates poorly when applied to the expression בְּכָל־לְבָבְךָ֥ - you
shall serve Hashem even if you dont have a heart[1]. One can give up all of his money to honor the
Ribono Shel Olam, one can even die to serve Him, but how is it possible to
worship Him without a heart?! Isn’t a
heart the most essential ingredient for עבודת
ה?
As the Zohar
states - “רחמנא ליבא
בעי”
- God desires a heart. Tehillim is replete with references to the heart as the
motivator to serve and connect with God. In Chapter 51 alone, we find two of
the most famous:
לֵ֣ב טָ֭הוֹר בְּרָא־לִ֣י אֱלֹהִ֑ים
וְר֥וּחַ
נָ֝כ֗וֹן חַדֵּ֥שׁ בְּקִרְבִּֽי׃
(12) Fashion a
pure heart for me, O God; create in me a steadfast spirit.
זִֽבְחֵ֣י
אֱלֹהִים֮ ר֪וּחַ
נִשְׁבָּ֫רָ֥ה לֵב־נִשְׁבָּ֥ר וְנִדְכֶּ֑ה
אֱ֝לֹהִ֗ים
לֹ֣א
תִבְזֶֽה׃
(19) True
sacrifice to God is a contrite spirit; God, You will not despise a contrite and
crushed heart.
Life without a
heart may work for a Tin Man living in the land of Oz, but for the rest of us,
it is impossible.
Rav Yitzchak Meir
Alter, the Gerrer Rebbe, explains that the same argument can in fact be made
for “בכל
לבבך”,
that one has to serve HKBH even if He takes away your heart. Meaning, even if
you don't feel a modicum of inspiration, even if your heart is devoid of any
attachment, lacking passion and sentiment, you must still serve God.
Rabbi Bernard
Weinberger z”l, in his collection of speeches entitled שמן
הטוב
(volume 3), adds that this was the true nature of Avraham’s ultimate test - וירא
את
המקום
מרחוק,
and he saw the place from afar.
“Hamakom” does not refer just to his destination, but to God, who is also known
by the same title. Avraham was only capable of seeing God from a great
distance, because he could not
understand or connect to God’s command. There was no clarity of vision, no
compelling emotion, no fire. Avraham’s challenge was to listen to a Divine
directive when his heart wasn't into it. This is the true definition of בכל
לבבך
- for we have each experienced moments in which our hearts are simply not
engaged. Anyone can serve Hashem when there are raffles and cool madrichim jumping up and down on benches
in the חדר
אוכל,
but can you serve Him when your heart isn’t afire? When a work deadline looms
and sunset rapidly approaches? When the obligation to pray competes with the
comfort of your pillow? When Facebook or texting with friends is more appealing
than Torah study? That’s the challenge of the return from summer camp, or being
an adult. It is to be an עבד נאמן
in absence of the trumpet blares and flourishes.
Rav Amital
suggested that this is why there is such a thing as a Korban Mincha. The עולה
, שלמים,
תודה
and חטאת
- those are reserved for exciting times: at the height of our happiness,
gratitude and heartfelt emotion experienced by the Baal Teshuva who is
returning to God - but the Mincha fits into none of these categories. It is a simple meal offering, comprised of
flour and sometimes oil. It is both
literally and figuratively - dry. The
mincha is boring, inexpensive and conventional, and yet it is nonetheless a
Korban!
As Rav
Amital said:
“With all the
importance of the experiential dimension of prayer. We certainly should not
ignore or belittle the importance of “dry,” uninspired prayer. Sometimes a
person is not on the level which allows him to sense the experiential dimension
of prayer. Yet there is value even to “dry” prayers devoid of the vitality of a
lofty experience”.
Our challenge is
not to recreate camp and turn our shul into a carnival, but rather to turn
ourselves and our children into the sort of individuals who will show up even
when unmotivated to do so. Paradoxically, the best lesson we can teach our
children is consistent, relentless, uninspired service of God.
Several years
ago, Rabbi Dr. Jay Goldmintz of the Maayanot School for Girls in Teaneck
offered a radical suggestion in an article he wrote for OU’s Jewish Action
magazine. The title of the article was
“Why Aren’t Our Kids in Shul?[2]” In it,
he suggests that the most simple explanation of all is the best explanation:
they’re not in shul because we don’t force
them to be there. The truth is that, beyond academics, we don’t force kids to do
much at all these days. Maybe we are tired of being rebuffed; Maybe we are
worried that religious coercion will have a boomerang effect, turning them off
permanently from religion (there is some literature, studying Evangelical
Christians, that substantiates this concern). Most painfully, we are afraid to
bring them into shul because we ourselves find davening boring, confusing and
often unintelligible. To be sure, we need to address these issues. Notwithstanding these concerns there are
crucial benefits to refusing to indulge children’s, especially teens' desire to
stay home and sleep in, or roam the hallways. Attending shul regularly in
formative years may be a predictor of consistent shul attendance later in life.
Moreover, it instills us with a spiritual work ethic that may be applied even
beyond the realm of religion. There will be times in life when our hearts will
be “taken away,” when we won’t feel it. There are times when parenting is fun
and games and pure nachas and joy, and there are times when it may be shameful,
gut wrenching or tedious. There are times when we are deeply in love with our
spouse, and others when our hearts are less afire. There are times when our job will be
exhilarating, and others when it will crush our soul. The true test of our character and commitment
is whether we are able to show up at those times.
[1] The classical interpretation is that of the
Sifrei:
ספרי דברים פרשת ואתחנן פיסקא לב
בכל
לבבך, בשני יצריך ביצר טוב וביצר רע, דבר אחר בכל לבבך בכל לב בך, שלא יהיה לבך
חלוק על המקום.
[2]
https://jewishaction.com/family/parenting/getting_kids_to_shul/
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