The Primordial Sin, Part I
Chapter 6, Mishna 5(a)
By Rabbi Dovid Rosenfeld
Dedicated to the achievement of peace in our homeland. May G-d
reveal Himself speedily in our days, bringing salvation to His servants
and retribution upon His enemies.
"Do not seek greatness for yourself and do not crave honor. Do more than
you have studied and do not desire the 'table' of kings. For your table is
greater than their table, and your crown is greater than their crown. And
your Employer can be trusted to pay you the reward for your efforts."
I'd like to begin our study of this mishna by pointing out the progression
from last week. (Some editions of Pirkei Avos combine this and the
previous mishna.) Last week we learned that the "way of the Torah" is a
life of utter deprivation. The true Torah scholar eats bread and water,
sleeps on the ground, lives a life of suffering, and delves in Torah
study. As we explained, this is hardly Judaism's recommended approach to
life -- which neither encourages nor idealizes physical hardship. In our
daily prayers, we constantly ask G-d for sustenance and physical well-
being, seeing this as likely the only path to spiritual fulfillment. One
who is preoccupied with his aches and pains or his financial worries will
have neither time nor mindset for spiritual development. Yet, last week's
mishna concluded that one who lives such an existence is fortunate in both
this world and the next. As we explained, the mishna was observing that
one who is wholly consumed with a passion for truth and knowledge of G-d
will be so infatuated with the next world he will hardly notice this one,
let alone be drawn after it. And he will experience a pleasure in life
neither known nor imagined by the creatures of this world.
Yet, as we will see from this mishna, there are new and possibly greater
dangers facing such a person. The person of last week was so sated with
closeness to G-d he was not bothered by his physical circumstances. His
baser urges were subdued; they were hardly a factor drawing him away from
spirituality. If so, what is left to challenge him? Why would such a
person -- who sees through the emptiness of this world -- want anything
other than spirituality and closeness to G-d? Is his life devoid of
challenge?
Let us back up a little. We need to understand the true message and
challenge of the Torah. There are two separate and distinct levels on
which we are challenged as human beings. The first is the level of
spiritual versus physical. We don't want to get up on time in the morning,
we don't feel like studying, we want to eat non-kosher, eat on Yom Kippur,
etc. A great deal of our daily efforts must be expended on resisting our
innate sluggishness and physical urges. Religion reminds us that we are
human beings and not animals. We cannot do whatever we want whenever we
want. We are rather here to develop our souls and intellects. This for
most of us is a great deal of what Judaism has to say to us. Our bodies
want anything but, but if we want to get anywhere in life, we must work
very hard indeed.
The truth is, this is a very shallow view of what religion -- and Judaism
in particular -- asks of us. The Torah does not simply tell us to crush
our physical desires. As I've written many times in the past, Judaism does
not give us some kind of ultimatum: this world or the next. The Talmud
writes that there is nothing forbidden in this world for which G-d did not
provide a permissible equivalent (Chullin 109b). (I've always found those
imitation bacon bits pretty good (some Jews are frightened by the
concept) -- though I'd be easy enough to fool. ;-) The Torah does not go
around forbidding everything we might possibly want. It limits and
restrains, but never outright opposes our natural physical drives. If
anything, Judaism sees a sense of harmony between the physical and
spiritual worlds, promising that a Torah lifestyle offers fulfillment in
this world as well as the next.
So personal discipline aside, the Torah cannot be viewed as forcing upon
us some kind of drab and pleasure-free existence -- in a battle of
physical vs. spiritual. The true manner Judaism challenges us -- once we
wean ourselves from our baser desires -- is perhaps far deeper and more
profound. There is a much stronger spiritual battle raging within a human
being. Let us back up a little further -- in fact a lot further -- to
understand.
We are familiar with the story of Adam and Eve and their sin with the
fruit of the Tree of Knowledge (Genesis 3). As the story goes, the
Serpent, most "cunning" of all the animals, comes along and tempts Eve to
taste of the fruit, promising that it would open their eyes, making
them "as gods knowing good and evil" (v. 5). Eve decides that the Tree is
tempting to behold and both eats of the fruit and gives her husband to eat.
Well, the story seems almost childish at this level -- and we won't
examine it further this week. However, I'd like to leave off with one
final issue. The Tree gave the one who ate of it knowledge of good and
evil -- which the Sages understand to mean an intimate knowledge of -- and
desire for -- evil. Before the sin, Adam and Eve had no evil inclination.
(As we'll explain, that is why initially they had no need for clothing
(ibid., 2:25).) The Serpent, representing man's evil inclination, existed
as an external force -- whose mission was to tempt humanity to sin.
This, however, presents a difficultly. If Adam and Eve themselves had no
evil inclination, how could they have *wanted* to sin? How could they --
entirely spiritual beings -- desire anything other than goodness and
closeness to G-d? Where could a desire to rebel against G-d stem from?
Well, the direction we are heading -- slowly but surely -- is that there
is a concept of challenge and temptation in the spiritual realm as well.
Next week, G-d willing, we'll pick this up.
Text Copyright © 2006 by Rabbi Dovid Rosenfeld and Torah.org.