Pensamiento judío sobre Deuteronómio 11:13

Because prayer is service of the heart, we have connected the chapter on prayer with the chapter on the olah, total offering. As an olah is an offering that "rises" towards G'd in its entirety, since the whole of the animal is being offered on the altar, so is prayer an offering of the heart which rises toward Heaven in its entirety. When our sages describe prayer without concentrating on its meaning, as being comparable to a body without soul, they mean that the warmth of feeling generated by genuine prayer, parallels the ongoing fire on the altar that burns the olah. In Vayikra Rabbah 7, Rabbi Pinchas notes that the Torah does not describe the fire on the altar as being "on" the altar. The Torah does not require that the "fire on the altar burn on it," rather it does say “aysh hamizbeach tukad bo," the fire on the altar shall burn within it, meaning that the entire altar should be permeated by it. (Leviticus 6,2) So our hearts are to be permeated by the outpouring of our prayers. The Talmud Berachot 32, tells us that we have to arrange the praise of the Lord before proceeding with voicing our requests from Him. Since the requests concern mostly our temporal needs, our sages (Shabbat 10) describe the supplicant as someone who temporarily abandons his concern with the values of the world to come, in favour of the mundane needs of this world he lives in at the time. If this is so, the opinion held by many, (including Maimonides chapter one hilchot tefillah ) which claims that prayer has been legislated by the Torah, is hard to understand. If the purpose of prayer would be exhausted by our asking for our needs, why should it matter to G'd whether we ask for them or not? We should be entitled to forego the opportunity to ask G'd for His kindness, assistance, etc. However, just as we have described the institution of sacrifice as designed to arouse certain emotions within us which will bring us closer to G'd, so prayer, by means of the trust we express when we ask Him for our needs, will bring us closer to Him. The conviction that He cares, that His Providence watches over us, all this helps to strengthen the existing ties between us and the Creator. The thanks we express for what He has done for us and for others, all help to cement our relationship with hashem. The early Chassidim, men of piety and devoutness, are described by the Talmud Berachot 32, as having prepared for prayer an hour ahead of time, and as having spent another hour winding down from the spiritual high achieved during prayer, before returning to the mundane tasks in their lives. Actually, they did exactly what our sages have since built into the formal liturgy that we follow nowadays. The hymns of praise, keriyat shema, are our introduction and preparation for prayer, i.e. the part during which we voice our requests. On the other hand, we are told that he who fails to enunciate the keriyat shema audibly, has failed in his purpose, since the praise of G'd and our assuming the yoke of Heaven are to be made known to our fellow men. On the other hand, he who raises his voice during the supplication part of the prayer service, is described as lacking in faith, as a prophet of the ido Baal. (Berachot 24) Channah already demonstrated that requests need not be aired audibly. If the High Priest Eli considered her as a drunken woman, this was not because she did not raise her voice in prayer, but because she had chosen a time of day he did not consider suitable for offering up prayer. (compare Samuel I chapter 1) He watched her closely to find out what she had to say to him, since most other women milling around the entrance of the tabernacle always spoke to him. Understanding Eli's error, she told him that her remarks were addressed to Him who does not need audible expression of her words in order to be able to hear and understand them. Since Channah came to the tabernacle after having dined, it was natural for Eli to have misconstrued her purpose, and to have judged same by outward appearances. In fact, one must not raise one's voice, so as not to create the impression that one considers G'd hard of hearing. When Ishmael was close to death, (Genesis 21,17) G'd considered his state of being "as he was then," not the loudness of his prayers. The mental anguish that he was suffering at that moment was the decisive element that led to his rescue. On the other hand, all those paragraphs in the liturgy that teach us knowledge and comprehension have to be recited aloud. "Hear O Israel!"- these words we have to hear with our own ears; they are directed both at ourselves and at our fellow Jews.

In considering that the purpose of observing Torah is to acquire the aforementioned level of partnership with the Divine, the question arises whether this is an exclusive objective, or whether one may have other more mundane benefits in mind which accrue to one in the process of fulfilling G-d’s commandments. If the former, the chances are that most people would not be able to take the long term view in order to live a life devoted to the performance of the mitzvot. The argument that mundane side benefits through the observance of mitzvot are not permissible, could be sustained by the following two considerations. 1) The more highly placed a worker or servant, the more lofty are the tasks that he is entrusted to perform. Man, as the most sophisticated creature on earth, would naturally only be concerned with the loftiest endeavours and objectives. 2) If we were to postulate that carrying out G-d’s will would have as its purpose merely human objectives, this would contradict the maxim that the objective is primary. If the prophet Isaiah 44,6, proclaims in the name of G-d "I am first and I am last," this clearly implies that the only considerations in all our endeavours must be centred around G-d and His purpose. Antignos, who has said in Avot,1 "do not be like the servant who serves the master for the sake of the reward," surely had this thought in mind. Also the saying of Ben Azzai "the reward for performing one mitzvah is another mitzvah, may be understood in a similar vein. In other words, performance of the commandments is an end in itself, not a means to an end. The Sifrey in Parshat Eykev says "a man might say to himself I'll perform the commandments in order to gain riches, or to acquire the title of Rabbi, or even in order to acquire a share in the hereafter; therefore the Torah says (Deut. 11,13) "in order to love the Lord your G-d." Your purpose in obeying should be to demonstrate your love for G-d. The Talmud in Avodah Zarah 19, quotes Rabbi Yoshua ben Levi as interpreting Psalms 112,1, "hail to the man who fears the Lord and is very desirous of His commandments,” as referring to people who perform the commandments for their own sake, not for the reward associated with them. Maimonides, at the end of his sefer hamitzvot pursues this line of reasoning also. However, one can also argue the reverse, again using two lines of reasoning. 1) It is natural for all creatures to be concerned first and foremost with their own physical needs. Although it is a fact that each type of creature serves as a means to sustain a higher category of life, i.e. plants to sustain animals, animals to sustain man etc., we nonetheless observe that they all concentrate on their own needs, their service to a higher category of life being merely incidental. 2) It is a psychological fact that man loses interest, in the pursuit of any task that does not promise tangible rewards within a time frame he considers reasonable. Even an Onan, (Genesis 38,10) was not punished for failing to have issue with Tamar, but only for taking active steps to prevent the fulfilment of the objective of the levirate marriage to provide issue for his deceased brother. Antignos' statement is revised to read "do not make service to the Lord conditional on the receipt of a reward," not as in the version of "make it conditional on being independent of a reward." Also the Talmud in Pessachim 8, states that if someone says he will give charity in order that his children will live, or in order that he himself may enjoy life in the hereafter, he is considered a perfect tzaddik. This seems to contradict the Sifrey in Parshat Eykev that he who studies the Torah in order to be called rabbi is wrong, since the Torah demands love of G-d as one's motivation. Clearly these examples indicate that having in mind personal objectives while performing mitzvot, is permissible. In fact, the Torah promises the attainment of personal objectives such as "so that you will be well off, will live long." (Deut. 22,7) There are many similar statements in the Torah. G-d Himself is quoted as wishing that the Jewish people should revere Him as they did at the time when they received the Torah, in order that He could treat them and their children well. (Deut 10,13) If G-d Himself wishes that our serving Him will result in benefits to us in this world, how can we say that all our mitzvah performance must be aimed exclusively at our being elevated to the status of becoming His partner, and that other material considerations would negate the moral value of the mitzvah performance? We must therefore believe that as a result of performing mitzvot sufficient benefit will accrue to us to make their performance worthwhile. This is the meaning of the saying in Makkot 23, "because the Lord wished to let us amass many advantages, He provided us with an abundance of mitzvot and good deeds to perform," as is written in Isaiah 42,21, "the Lord was pleased because of His righteousness to render the Torah increasingly great and glorious." Since both the aforementioned approaches have equally much to recommend them and are in accord with many sayings of our sages, we have to endeavour to reconcile the apparent contradictions. If we consider the word "prass" as referring to the remuneration received for services rendered, then the saying of Antignos becomes clear. Since all our deeds cannot provide G-d with anything that He does not already have, Antignos says " make sure your relationship with G-d is not based on the mistaken belief that there is reciprocity. Rather, remember that whatever you receive as reward for service of the Lord is in fact chessed, a kindness, since your service does not do anything for Him. However, it is a fact that your service will confer upon yourself both physical and spiritual benefits. "By observing them, the consequences, the benefits are numerous. (Psalms 19,12 ) This lesson had been misunderstood by Tzadok and Bayssus who believed that their teacher denied the theory of reward and punishment, and who, in postulating their concept of doing good merely for the sake of doing good, became heretics, strange as it may seem. The doctrine of reward as an act of grace, not as a condition for performing the mitzvot, is the true expression of Jewish attitudes then. Any other attitude smacks of an effort to manipulate G-d, of bartering with Him to do your will rather than the reverse, i.e. your doing His will. The Bible as well as our sages have carefully refrained from the use of the term "prass," and have used the term sachar instead. The latter in all its connotations simply means the reverse of hefsed, loss. If Antignos concludes by saying "in order that the fear of heaven be upon you," he warns his students not to relate to other deities which are not even able to confer any benefits upon them, be they prass or sachar. The language employed by the sayings that prohibits performing mitzvot for the sake of, is usually kedey, in order to. The distinction shows already that only when the purpose is reward is such servivce unacceptable. If, however, the service is not conditional, then the reward element is perfectly acceptable as a by- product. Once we accept that what matters is the purity of motivation of the performance, it is easy to argue that the deed itself is irrelevant as long as the intention to perform it existed. This could be the point raised by the rasha, the wicked son's question in the Haggadah. But the truth is that both deed and motivation are essential. Whenever observances are demanded, the Torah urges that it must be motivated by love for G-d, and if so, success in the form of visible reward will be the result of such service of G-d. When the Sifrey described a service that has reward as its objective as inadmissible, the reference is only to the objective of obtaining the reward in this life. If the desire is to ensure one's life in the world to come, such an objective is praiseworthy. Also the Talmud in Avodah Zarah 31, which interpreted the words "for His commandments and not for the reward of His commandments," refers only to these worldly rewards as being taboo. This was also Antignos' meaning concerning the words "today to carry out (the commandments) and not today to receive their rewards. The considerations mentioned, also help us understand the statement in Kiddushin 31, that he who performs a mitzvah because he has been commanded to do this by G-d, has done something greater than he who has performed the same deed voluntarily. One cannot achieve the ultimate tachlit, objective of the commandment unless one performs it as such. Only in this way does one become a shutaph, partner of the Almighty, a goal we have described as the ultimate purpose of mitzvah performance. This is another aspect of the saying that "the reward of the mitzvah is the mitzvah, that the achievement of the mitzvah is predicated on the very fact that it is a commandment.

The Torah frowns on excessive pursuit of material goods. Therefore we read "if you will listen to My commandments...you will gather in your harvest." This means you engage in necessary activities to assure yourself of your livelihood. Selling oneself to another person in order to gain financial security, and to escape one's responsibilities, is frowned on. The fact that even the most private possessions such as wife and children acquired during servitude, continue to belong to the master, demonstrates that the Torah's message to us is to rely on G'd and not on man. After all, it is He who has commanded the children of Israel "for to Me are the children of Israel servants." He did not take us out of Egypt in order for us to become slaves again. The pursuit of worldly goods is a waste of time, since we leave the world as naked as we came into it. (Job 1, 21, "I came naked out of my mother's womb, and naked will I return there.") The whole paragraph dealing with the Jewish servant can be understood allegorically as reflecting man's experience in this world. He enters alone, leaves alone, leaves his acquisitions behind, and when he expresses the desire to attach himself to a human master, he is brought to elohim, to be forcefully reminded of his error. In the seventh decade of his life, his vitality ebbs, and as he approaches his death, i.e. the time he returns to the grave, he does so chinam, chofshi, without any encumbrance. This is either due to physical decline or because of lack of energy to go on living. The wheel has turned, as a wheel is always apt to do. What had once been thought to be a continuous upward curve, has peaked and become a downward movement. (compare Exodus 21, 2-6) Man will wind up as a servant "forever" to his "Master" in the world of infinity. The purpose of the Torah has always been to liberate mortal man from the inevitable and depressingly terminal state of merely physical existence here on earth. Accepting the yoke of Torah is an incomparably easier burden than living with the thought of the futility of all earthly existence. One of the ways to achieve freedom from the obsessive character of the greed to amass more and more material, i.e. useless wealth, is the Torah's emphasis that one should be satisfied with the necessities of life. All the Torah's promises of reward for performing G'ds commandments are of this nature. "I will grant you rain at the appropriate time;" "you will gather in your grain harvest." "You will eat, be sated and bless the Lord." Performance of G'ds commandments will enable us to feel "satiated" when we have eaten. The greatest lesson in this respect was the experience of man, the heavenly bread the Israelites ate in the desert. This taught reliance on G'd, the futility of amassing for the future as long as one is under the loving care of G'ds Personal Providence.