Chapter 3. Mishna 12 (a)
Actions Speak Louder
By Rabbi Dovid Rosenfeld
"He [Rabbi Chanina] used to say, anyone whose good deeds are greater
than
his wisdom, his wisdom will endure. And anyone whose wisdom is greater than
his good deeds, his wisdom will not endure."
This mishna continues the theme of the previous mishna. (Some editions of
the Mishna combine this and the previous mishna into a single mishna.) Last
week R. Chanina taught us that one's fear of sin must precede his Torah
knowledge if his wisdom is to endure. Only one who fears sin -- who has a
sense of accountability towards G-d and respect for tradition, will study
the Torah with the requisite sense of commitment. He will take the Torah's
messages to heart and internalize them. One, however, who studies without
that basic sense of "fear" and of commitment, may study out of curiosity or
for intellectual stimulation, but will not truly be ready to integrate the
Torah's values into his life. His study will remain external to his
essence; it will not become a part of him.
Here R. Chanina offers another requirement for having one's
wisdom "endure": practice. One's deeds must be greater than his or her
wisdom. He must do more than he understands. He cannot fulfill G-d's word
only after he's figured it out and has made sense out of it. He must first
do and only then attempt to understand. The Children of Israel proclaimed
at the foot of Mount Sinai, "We will do and we will hear" (Exodus 24:7).
They accepted to first "do": to follow the letter of the law, and only
then to "hear": to study, delve and learn to appreciate. In a way, the
reason for this is quite simple, but I believe our mishna's message is far
more profound.
The Children of Israel accepted to "do" first: not to hinge their
observance of the mitzvos (commandments) upon their understanding of them.
This is simply because it is the height of folly to expect mitzvos which
emanate from an infinite and all-knowledgeable G-d to be readily
understandable to the human mind. If the Torah were man-made, if it were
the brainchild of human creativity, however great, later generations could
pass judgment on its worth and relevance based on their own notions of
justice and morality. But the Children of Israel in the desert knew
better: the Torah was not even divinely-inspired humanly-authored. It was
the word of G-d Himself. Man's observance of the Torah could never depend
on anything as limited, skewed and frivolous as human understanding.
R. Chanina, however, is not simply telling us that our observance must
precede our understanding. He states that if it does not our wisdom will
never endure. We must do or our wisdom will never truly make sense to us
and become a part of us. On one level, this is true because the Torah is
not very meaningful if it is not put into practice. The Torah was never
intended to be an abstract science. It is not merely a philosophical
treatise, providing an ordered system of logical beliefs. It contains
lessons for living life. It is a practical guide for living in this world
and making sense of it all. It is what R. Noach Weinberg (http://aish.com)
describes as G-d's Users' Guide for Planet Earth. And such knowledge will
never be fully appreciated if left on the shelf. It is an applied science,
not an abstract one. It instructs us in how to integrate eternal beliefs
and ethical principles into real-life situations, and how to use truth and
morality to build happy, functioning, and productive homes and societies --
as well as individuals. Thus, the Torah can never be absorbed in any
serious way through the intellect alone. It must be practiced and lived
for its beauty and wisdom to truly penetrate the soul.
I believe there is a second great truth behind R. Chanina's words, one in
which Judaism distinguishes itself from many other religions. Judaism is
sometimes viewed as a religion which focuses more on ritual and form than
on substance and spirit. Other religions seem to preach that the important
thing is to have a good heart, to believe, to love your neighbor, and to be
yourself. (You'll pardon the oversimplification -- an ongoing fault of
mine.) Judaism believes in all of that of course ("Love your neighbor as
yourself" does come from us, mind you (Leviticus 19:18)), but it almost
seems to "ruin" it by instructing us to death. There are rules and
regulations for nearly everything we say and do -- what we can eat, when we
can eat, how we can eat, etc. etc. ad infinitum. Sure, some of the rituals
are meaningful and help give our religion structure. But isn't simple faith
enough? Isn't man essentially good? Why be bogged down with so much onerous
and burdensome ritual? Why can't we just let our own natural goodness shine
through?
R. Chanina's answer is a little bit sobering -- perhaps even a little
depressing -- but contains a tremendous insight into life. G-d did not give
us the Torah just so that we'd have good hearts or live with some basic
tenets of belief. We actually *do* have that naturally. It was so that we'd
develop ourselves as people. We all know that someone who wants to be good
at almost anything -- whether an athlete, musician, pilot, scholar -- has
to train. People are not born winners (or losers for that matter). Talented
athletes may have more potential than others, but realizing that potential
takes lots and lots of hard work. It requires practicing, developing,
honing, and drilling. And humankind likewise has an enormous potential for
good -- for being giving, spiritual, G-dlike individuals. But it is only
potential. Realizing that potential takes work: if we want to make anything
for ourselves our deeds must far outweigh our wisdom. Being good is hard
work. It *is* natural, but it does not *come* naturally. (And in fact, it
can easily be corrupted).
And this is the mission G-d presented us with when He created us:
developing our latent abilities for good and bringing them to actuality.
Towards this end G-d gave us the Torah and the mitzvos -- the tools for
our training. Knowledge and understanding alone are not sufficient. Our
mishna tells us that we must practice if we want our wisdom to endure and
truly become a part of us. By studying and practicing, we both develop
good traits and sublimate "bad" ones in positive directions. But it does
not happen automatically; it takes prodigious efforts. As above, being
good is hard work. Being great takes a lifetime.
We learned earlier in Pirkei Avos, "Study is not the primary thing but
action [is]" (1:17 www.torah.org/learning/pirkei-avos/chapter1-17.html).
The Torah teaches us how we must act and what is G-d's will, but words
alone will never change us. For one's wisdom to endure, he must apply it
and practice it. The purpose of the Torah is not to impart knowledge. It
is to fashion individuals -- into human beings in the image of G-d.
In the Sefer Hachinuch, a master treatise on the 613 Commandments, the
author (a 13th Century Spanish scholar; the precise authorship seems to be
unknown) offers a profound psychological insight: One who acts a certain
way -- whatever his intentions -- will be influenced by his deeds and will
eventually become the person he impersonates (Mitzvah 16). The Nazis, under
the pretext of following orders, quickly became the most bestial and
sadistic of killers. And we, if we act out the part set out by the Torah,
will find ourselves becoming more upright, moral, and caring individuals.
Good deeds impact on a person: say we reluctantly give charity to the
fundraiser who comes to our door. All good deeds influence us one way or
the other, some in obvious ways, and some in more subtle, metaphysical
ways.
And this, in a single word, is the purpose of the mitzvos -- and the
ultimate purpose of our Torah study. We must not approach the Torah
expecting to first understand and then to do -- and certainly not with the
precondition that we will do only that which we first understand. Rather,
we must be prepared to do. I know the Torah was commanded by an infinite
Creator, and I know it contains truth. I will make my effort and show my
readiness to grow. And I know the growth will then follow.
Text Copyright © 2004 by Rabbi Dovid Rosenfeld and Torah.org.