Creatures of the Next World
Chapter 6, Mishna 4
By Rabbi Dovid Rosenfeld
"This is the way of the Torah: Bread and salt will you eat, measured
water
will you drink, on the ground will you sleep, a life of suffering will you
live, and in the Torah will you labor. If you do this, 'You are fortunate
and it is good for you' (Psalms 128:2). 'You are fortunate' -- in this
world; 'and it is good for you' -- in the World to Come."
This week's mishna, though well-known, presents some obvious difficulties.
As we know, Judaism does not believe in poverty or self-flagellation. I've
written many times before that the Torah instructs us to live "normal"
lives -- ones of material and physical as well as spiritual fulfillment:
marry, earn a living, rest on the Sabbath. (And as I heard a rabbi put it
recently, though we sentimentalize the poverty of our Eastern European
ancestors -- practically convincing ourselves that the "truly pious" Jew
is dirt poor, the Talmud writes somewhat less sentimentally: A poor man is
considered dead (Nedarim 64b).)
We are taught, rather, that the world, in all its awe and beauty, was
meant to be appreciated and enjoyed; that its natural, G-d-given beauty
bespeaks its inherent worth and value in the eyes of G-d. The Sages tell
us, "A person will one day give reckoning for everything his eyes saw
which, although permissible, he did not enjoy" (Jerusalem Talmud,
Kiddushin 4:12). "I granted you this beautiful world and you *ignored*
it?!" says G-d. G-d's world is not here for us to ignore or resist. If we
do not utilize the world in the manner intended -- certainly if we deny
our own natures -- the world will be just a little less fulfilled. If,
however, we live in the world and use it in the manner G-d intended, we
bring the entire universe to its ultimate fruition.
In truth, we do hear of great and pious Jews separating themselves from
the pleasures of this world. Jewish thinkers, however, view this as a
stepping stone -- to overcome the shackles of physical lust in order to
devote themselves entirely to G-d. Ultimately, when they do enjoy the
pleasures of this world it will not be a slavish yielding to their
passions -- further removing them from G-d, but an act of Divine service --
enhancing their love and admiration for the G-d who has granted them so
much.
Thus, our mishna would at first seem difficult to integrate. It seems to
promote abject poverty and denial as the ideal -- going so far as to
promise contentment in this world to the underprivileged. Besides the fact
that this flies in the face of practically everything else Judaism teaches
about this world, what do the Sages even mean -- "You are fortunate in
this world?" Perhaps dedication to Torah is well worth a little (or a lot
of) sacrifice of creature comforts. But how can the Sages even *pretend*
that this is the path to happiness in this world, let alone recommend it
as the "way of the Torah?"
Allow me to veer off of the subject slightly and look at another occasion
when we are asked to deny ourselves the pleasures of this world: Yom
Kippur. On this one day at least, the "ideal" state is suffering -- to
live with hunger and abstinence.
We tend to view Yom Kippur in terms of penance. During the year we have
been sinful -- we've sure done a lot we need forgiveness for. And we
effect this atonement through fasting and affliction: we voluntarily bring
some pain upon ourselves -- before G-d decides to do it Himself. Thus,
regardless of Judaism's relatively sanguine attitude towards the physical
world the rest of the year, on Yom Kippur we recognize that for the most
part we go too far -- and on this one Day of Reckoning we make up for it.
There is some truth to this appraisal. We are told on Yom Kippur to fast
and "afflict" our souls (Leviticus 16:29). But Yom Kippur is much deeper
than this. The Torah also instructs us to make ourselves "pure" (ibid., v.
30). My teacher, R. Yochanan Zweig (www.talmudicu.edu), explained as
follows.
Imagine a busy day at the office (most of us don't have to imagine very
hard). There are two people who skip lunch. One just *has* to meet a
deadline. He is giving a presentation that afternoon and just has to
finish his data and slides in time. He would *love* to run down the street
for a bite, but just too much is at stake. So hungrily he works through
his lunch hour.
The second individual is busy at his computer working on a very
captivating piece of code. (No laughing -- this really could happen. ;-)
He is so involved with his coding, testing, debugging and fine-tuning that
he does not even notice the time -- he never even felt hungry. All of a
sudden he looks up and realizes it's 3:15. "Might as well just munch on an
apple and wait till supper at this point," he muses -- and goes on
programming.
These, explained R. Zweig, are the two types of individuals who experience
Yom Kippur. Most of us are quite hungry during the fast. Although we find
the prayers meaningful and uplifting, we do look anxiously at our watches
(at least come lunchtime), eagerly awaiting that final shofar blast and
the breaking of our fasts. For us too Yom Kippur is meaningful and
rewarding. We were human beings -- we *wanted* to eat -- but we did not.
Why? Because G-d said so. And this is a true and meaningful sacrifice.
Being the physical beings we are, it was difficult to "afflict" ourselves
and fast. But we did so all the same. And G-d will certainly view us
favorably on this Day of Judgment.
This, however, is not what Yom Kippur is *really* about. G-d tells us more
than to afflict ourselves. We are told to purify ourselves as well. On
this one day a year, we are told to involve ourselves so in cleaving to G-
d, to become so angelic, that we do not even *want* to eat. We are so
involved with -- so *sated* from -- closeness to G-d, that we hardly think
of, let alone desire, any pleasure this world has to offer. One who
reaches this lofty state will feel no affliction in fasting. Yom Kippur
will be a day of communion and exhilaration. He will *enjoy* it! And in
his experience, he will gain so much more than the rest of us who in our
self-sacrifice have to force it.
This is as well the ideal state of mind of the true Torah scholar. Let us
return to our mishna. It did not tell us that privation is the life we
mortals should live or even aspire to. We are fortunate if Yom Kippur
gives us a once-a-year taste of this exalted level. But our mishna does
describe this as the "way of the Torah." True Torah scholars will
contentedly live under conditions of denial and poverty. They will thrive
on G-d's word, with no sense of "affliction" or lacking. They are so sated
with G-d and His Torah that they are fortunate in this world as well --
simply because they are not bound by it. They are enthused and energized
by forces far beyond anything this world has to offer. Their happiness,
their fulfillment does not depend on their physical surroundings -- if
they notice them at all. If anything, they will see physical comfort as a
distraction from the one thing they truly desire -- closeness to G-d. They
are creatures of the next world. And their joy and pleasure even in the
world we know will be far beyond any pleasure known or imaginable to the
creatures of this world.
Text Copyright © 2006 by Rabbi Dovid Rosenfeld and Torah.org.