Torah’s Greatest Role

By Rabbi Moshe Krieger, Yeshivas Bircas Hatorah (www.bircas.org)

In Shabbos (88b), the sages present an interesting dialogue between the angels and Moshe Rabbeinu, when he ascended to heaven to receive the Torah. The angels objected to Hashem: “What is man that You should remember him?” What is this earthly being doing here in heaven?  How can you give him the Torah? He is material and the Torah is spiritual!

Hashem ordered Moshe to answer the angels. Moshe answered: What does it state in the Torah? Honor your father and mother. Do you have a father and mother? It states: You shall not steal, you shall not desire your neighbor’s possessions, you shall not kill. Do you angels have envy? Do you have such desires?

In short, Moshe claimed that you see from the contents of the Torah that it is intended for physical, human beings who possess a yetzer hara.

What did the angels think at the outset? Didn’t they know that the Torah is addressed toward human beings with a yetzer hara? Couldn’t they see that the Torah was written for people to fulfill mitzvos and abstain from sins — which is not relevant to angels?

On what grounds could they claim that the Torah should remain with them? They knew that the Torah addresses the yetzer hara, which they do not possess?

Rav Chaim Friedlander answers that the angels knew that the basic reading of Torah addresses the yetzer hara, but that’s only on the level of pshat. Beyond the basic level, the Torah contains countless secrets, of which Mekubalim only see a small part. Moreover, the Ramban (introduction to Bereishis) states that the entire Torah is Holy Names of Hashem that are beyond our understanding. This means that the vast majority of Torah has no connection to human beings. This was the reasoning of the angels.

If so, how can we understand Moshe’s answer to the angels?

Moshe meant that the main purpose of Torah is to control the yetzer hara. That is why it should be given to people, who possess a body and soul, and have to elevate themselves from a lower state to one of perfection, which can only be accomplished through Torah. In Hashem’s eyes, this is the greatest role the Torah has in all the universe.

The Beis Halevi (Parshas Yisro) says this idea is reflected in the Gemara (Pesachim 68b), in which Tanna’im discuss whether there is a mitzvah to hold a seudah (festive meal) on the Yomim Tovim. Some say that on Pesach or Sukkos, one can decide to celebrate either by feasting the entire day or studying Torah the entire day (the halacha is that one divides the day in two, half for seudah and half for davening and learning). However, all Tanna’im agree that on Shavuos, there is a mitzvah to hold a festive meal.

This seems counter-intuitive. If on other holidays certain sages held that we have the right to celebrate only by studying Torah, than surely on Shavuos, when the Torah was given, we should be able to celebrate this way?

Rather, since the entire reason why the Torah was given to us and not the angels was because we have a body and we must work to perfect it, on Shavuos we demonstrate this fact by eating and drinking with the intent of fulfilling the mitzvah of seudas yom tov.

The Maharal (Tiferes Yisrael 25) explains that this idea is alluded to in the unique bread offering on Shavuos in the Beis Hamikdash — the “Two Breads.” This was the only wheat offering that was made of leavened bread, because in the language of the Sages, the rising of dough is an analogy for the yetzer hara. Only on Shavuos, the day of the Giving of the Torah, was leavened bread offered in the Beis Hamikdash, to show that Torah is the way to master one’s yetzer hara.

Of course, this doesn’t happen automatically. When you open a Gemara, your desires don’t just disappear. Everyone has to learn mussar and work on controlling their bad middos, but even after succeeding in this, one’s evil tendencies are still present, only they’re under control. When a Jew clings to Torah study, this can sanctify him, so that even these tendencies are diminished (see Beis Halevi II 15).

Rav Yosef Shalom Elyashiv would note that the sages liken the Torah to honey, and honey has the ability to absorb and neutralize foreign elements that are introduced into it. Bees produce honey, and raw honey typically contains vestiges of these bees, but if left alone, these remains of bees will literally disappear and become part of the honey itself. So too Torah, if a Jew puts himself into it as much as he can, the Torah will have an effect on him similar to honey, doing away with his bad desires and putting them in line with the Torah itself.

This sounds like a level of Torah study that is far above us. Is our Torah on such a level that it can do away with our bad desires? Rav Chaim of Volozhin shows a way to put this power in our reach (Avos, Ruach Chaim 3:9). Before we begin learning, we should first pray to Hashem, saying: “Hashem, I know that I am a human being who has a yetzer hara, and I have bad tendencies, such as jealousy and laziness. Please, I do not want to err in such sins. I want the Torah that I am about to learn to help me overcome them.” If a person says such a prayer before learning, his learning is called Torah lishma, and can indeed help him fight his yetzer hara.

Of course, one needs to value Torah study. If he does not, he will not engage in it sufficiently. Next, when it comes to spiritual matters, we don’t gain from things we don’t value. If a person doesn’t value his Rav or Rosh Yeshiva, he is not going to grow from them. So too with Torah. If a person does not value it (or, he doesn’t believe that it has the power to change him), Torah will not change him — even if he says this prayer.

Rav Itzele Blazer sees this idea reflected in Nedarim (81a), which asks: Why was the Beis Hamikdash destroyed? The Jews of that period were learning Torah!

Hashem revealed that they did not say the bracha before studying Torah. The Ran explains that they did not properly value the Torah. Rav Blazer infers from here that the Jews’ Torah study was unable to protect them from committing the sins that led to the destruction of the Beis Hamikdash, and the reason their Torah could not protect them was because they did not value their Torah study.

How can we work on valuing Torah more?

The Bach (Orach Chaim 47) notes that one of the seven perpetual mitzvos is to remember the event of the Giving of the Torah (Devarim 4:9,10). This means more than just the giving of the Torah. It means the event that took place, in which Torah came to this world amid an awesome fire. Why was this necessary? The Bach explains that it was to show us the Torah’s awesome power and kedusha. We should think, every day, that the Torah is this invincible fire of kedusha.

In addition, we should think to ourselves: Were there to be even one moment in which no Torah was being studied in the world, the entire universe would cease to exist (Nefesh Hachaim 4:25, 26). Also: Our study of Torah brings blessing upon us and the entire universe (ibid. 17). Considering such ideas should bring home to us the greatness of Torah and help us value it properly.

The Chofetz Chaim would advise people to picture the following statement of the sages (Megila 16b): “Torah study is greater than saving lives.” Picture an earthquake, and victims are lying wounded by the hundreds. A doctor arrives and rushes from victim to victim, quickly resuscitating, bandaging, administering treatment and medicines; in short, saving lives. He works tirelessly for hours without a break. At night he collapses from exhaustion, only to rise an hour later to once again rush from victim to victim, saving more people. This doctor is unquestionably a hero, but think:  A Jew who learns Torah during that same amount of time is even greater than this doctor!

Still another way to strengthen our valuing of the Torah is to observe great talmidei chachamim. One sees their wisdom and sterling character, and it inspires us to appreciate the Torah that shaped them. I myself can credit my father for instilling in me my value for Torah. He was a great talmid chacham, and in addition, one could see from his actions that Torah was the only thing that mattered to him.

On numerous occasions, he turned down job offers that would have enabled him to support his family much more comfortably, since he knew that these jobs would take away from his learning. He always managed with a meager parnassa precisely because he devoted large parts of his day and night to learning. At a time when others his age were at the peak of their earning capacity, my father decided to stop working entirely and devote himself solely to Torah. His parnassa was always a mystery to us, and now even more, but he was adamant that he could not suffice without giving all his time to learning.

“Use all of your time for learning,” he would tell us often. He did not want us to seek any occupation other than learning or teaching Torah.

When my brother went to America (to learn in a kollel there), he commented to my father that “here, you need a car.” My father was steadfast that he should live near his kollel and not get a car.

“Once you have a car, you’ll find yourself driving to places instead of learning during that time,” he said.

May we value our Torah study and sanctify ourselves!