How to make Torah your desire
Parshas Bechukosai begins with Hashem’s promise to the Jewish Nation that if we go in His statutes, we will gain for ourselves a long list of blessings, but if we do not listen to Him, we will face a frightening list of curses. Rashi (Vayikra 26:3) explains that “going” in Torah means toiling in Torah study. This is the source of our blessings. If we do not toil in Torah, Rashi (ibid. 14-15) explains that one sin will lead to another until the curses result.
What makes toil in Torah so important that if we fail to do it, this is pinpointed as the beginning of our spiritual downfall, chalila, but when we do it, it is the source of our blessings?
Rav Dessler explains that just like when a person puts himself wholeheartedly into a project—any project–he develops a connection with it and views the project as his own, so too in Torah study: The more a Jew toils in his learning, the greater he feels a connection to it, and his fondness for learning grows. This type of Torah study has an effect on a person, and ultimately leads him on the right direction in life. However, if one’s heart is not in his learning, even though he may have a learning seder, his heart will lead him in other directions, and this is the beginning of his spiritual downfall.
Not only can toil in Torah bring every Jew to a connection to his learning, the Siach Yitzchak (on Siddur HaGra) adds that it has the potential to build in him a powerful desire to study Torah. The problem is, we’ve grown accustomed to other desires of more base nature. Therefore, every morning we ask Hashem to “accustom us to [the study of] Your Torah.” What we are asking is that He help us free ourselves from the outside distractions to which we are accustomed, but which take us away from toil in Torah. The more we put ourselves into learning, the more we can actually develop a desire for it. We can even reach the level where this desire is equal to or even greater than the desire for sin.
This idea sheds light on the Sages’ statement that “such is the way of Torah, eat bread with salt, drink water in small measure, sleep on the ground, and toil in Torah. If you do this … you are fortunate in this world, and it will be good for you in the next world” (Avos 6:4). One can ask: A person who subsists on a diet of bread and salt and sleeps on the ground is “fortunate in this world?” He lives the life of a pauper!
Rather, the Yad Ketana explains that when a person toils in Torah amid the minimalistic conditions described above, his desire for learning and the pleasure he derives from it fill him completely and he feels no lack whatsoever. On the contrary, he is happy that he does not have all the distractions that keep the rest of us from putting ourselves fully into learning.
In our times, we are not expected to live on bread alone, but we should stop our pursuit of material pleasures and channel it into a drive for Torah study. The more we do this, the greater we will feel love of Torah, and the more fortunate we will be in this world.
This idea can also help us understand a difficult Medrash (Vayikra Rabba 35:1): Dovid Hamelech states (Tehillim 119:59): “I considered my ways and returned my feet to Your testimonies.” The Medrash explains that when Dovid set out to handle matters of state, his feet would nevertheless transport him to the beis medrash.
Rav Chanoch Leibowitz asks: If Dovid set out to deal with state affairs, this was surely a mitzvah, probably one that only he could do. Moreover, if it was postponed, the opportunity might not come again. How could Dovid allow his feet to lead him elsewhere? How could he go learn instead, and why is he praising himself for this?
Rather, Dovid is referring to a specific tactic of the yetzer hara, that of depicting a matter as being “urgent.” The yetzer hara leads us to think that “this must be handled right away. Later it may be too late.” Dovid testified on himself that had he not possessed such a strong desire to learn Torah, he would not have been able to withstand this tactic. The yetzer hara would have succeeded in deftly adding to important matters of state a tone of urgency. Thanks to his love of learning, Dovid made sure to ascertain whether even matters of supreme importance had to be dealt with right away, or whether he could continue learning and deal with them later.
If the yetzer hara almost managed to trick Dovid Hamelech into perceiving matters as urgent when they were not, how much more so is he able to trick us into thinking that we “have to take care of this, right now?” If we would toil more in Torah and, through this, develop a greater love for Torah, we would be able to recognize that most, if not all, of these “urgent matters” can easily be handled outside of our learning seder.
The daughter of Rav Elyashiv would relate that while growing up in her father’s home, many times people came to ask urgent questions, “but when I saw how much my father loved his learning, I simply could not bring myself to disturb him. Only if they were questions of life-or-death.”
Once, Rav Elyashiv’s wife was asked how she had managed to raise such a large family amid poverty, always enabling her husband to learn and not asking his assistance.
She replied: “When my husband was learning, the joy he felt was so palpable that it spread throughout the entire family.”
May we toil in Torah and gain a love for it!