Shabbat Shalom 4/3/09

Many of our children define mitzvot as "good deeds." While many mitzvot (charity, acts of kindness, care for the sick, etc.) are good deeds by any definition, the Jewish concept of "mitzva" is much deeper.

The Reform Jewish scholar Rabbi Richard Levy, author of A Vision of Holiness: The Future of American Judaism (URJ Press, 2005), has defined mitzvot as follows:

Mitzvot are sacred obligations and the means by which we make our lives holy. It's both spiritual responding to what God has asked us to do, and practice-oriented -- doing things that are in the Torah.

Good deeds are a good idea. Mitzvot are "have to" obligations, responses to God's will informed by Torah. Levy's definition of mitzvah is both sensitive and traditional. It strives to be open and pluralistic. Nevertheless, it preserves the hardest "sell" when it comes to mitzvot, especially for Americans and especially for American teenagers, that idea of "obligation." In the words of every red-blooded American teen, "Aww, do I have to?" (read with appropriate whiney intonation)

This week's parsha is called "Tzav" from the opening words,

God spoke to Moses, telling him to relate the following instructions (Tzav) to Aaron and his descendants: This is the law of the burnt offering.
- Translation by Rabbi Aryeh Kaplan

or in the less cautious translation of the Jewish Publication Society:

And the LORD spoke unto Moses, saying: Command (Tzav) Aaron and his sons, saying: This is the law of the burnt-offering:

We see that TZaV means to "instruct strongly" or more directly "command." Tzav, ("command") is from the same root verb as "mitzvah." Rashi's commentary here is very telling. Quoting the source Torat Kohanim, he says that the word Tzav, indicates "ziruz" (encouraging in the strongest possible terms) for the immediate moment and for all future generations. This mitzvah is not just for now, but for all future generations and so must be commanded in the strongest terms. Rashi goes on to quote the sage Rav Shimon who has a different take entirely. He says that the forceful use of language here is because these sacrifices will cause financial loss, and the strong language is used specifically to compel people to overcome their reluctance to part with their financial resources (in this case, the livestock required for the burnt offering).

While these may be observations specific to the burnt offering, I think we may see beneath the surface two very important observations about the inherent urgency that underlies all mitzvot as obligations. First, we learn that mitzvot are not just for the moment, but for the future. Though they may have little impact on the present, our mitzvot may have wondrous repercussions for the future. The kiddush you make in your home this Friday night may not seem to have much impact on the moment. When your child has their own child, remembers your kiddush and you see your own grandchild with that same cup in their hands, addressing the same God with the same words, you will realize that your kiddush really wasn't just for the moment -- it was for the generations.

We also learn that all obligations incur a loss. Almost anything truly worth doing, costs something. Providing a Jewish education, making a beautiful Pesach seder, giving up on a movie on Friday night to share a Shabbat meal with family, they cost. We pay in money or we pay in time or we pay in inconvenience, but we pay. The compelling nature of a mitzvah is to help push us past the obstacles, past the sense that our mitzvot may not do much right now and past our hesitation to pay and sacrifice.

Good deeds almost always feel good in the now and often cost nothing. Mitzvot ask far more from us. They don't just ask us, they urge us and obligate us, yet we never lose our free choice. Do we respond as our children often do, "Aw, do I have to?" or do we respond with happiness and enthusiasm? The choice is ours.

By Lee Weissman, Teacher of Jewish studies at TVT