Parshas Shlach
This week’s parsha closes with the mitzva of tzitzis. Interestingly, tzitzis is singled out by the Torah in ways that no other mitzva is.
“And you shall see them [tzitzis] and keep all the mitzvos…” From this verse the Sifrei states that tzitzis are equated in importance to all the other mitzvos combined.
Moreover, the verse states about when we see tzitzis that “lo sasuru acharei levavchem ve’acharei eineichem — and you shall not stray after your hearts and after your eyes.” The Sages open up before us the deeper meaning that “straying after one’s heart” refers to heresy, and straying after one’s eyes refers to z’nus. The Chofetz Chaim (Biur Halacha, Siman 1 d”h hu klal gadol ) further notes that not strictly heresy, but rather any thought or will that goes against Torah is included in lo sasuru. Straying after one’s eyes, beyond z’nus itself, includes all taavos that appeal to the senses. Indulgence in taavos — even supposedly “kosher” ones — is also a transgression of lo sasuru. Tzitzis, remarkably, are able to provide a Jew with protection from these pervasive and powerful lures into sin.
In Menachos 44a a story is related of a Jew who had already strayed very far from the proper path, but when he was about to engage in a severe sin, his tzitzis “hit him in the face” and he regained control of himself and desisted.
What are these tzitzis, and how do they work? How can a simple piece of clothing possess seemingly magical powers of spiritual protection? Is this some sort of segula? But if so, why tzitzis and not any of the other mitzvos? What is the tzitzis’s secret?
The Ohr Hachaim Hakadosh, citing the Gemara and Tosafos (Menachos 43), explains that tzitzis are “the badge of the king” worn by the king’s servants. Meaning, tzitzis serve as a perpetual reminder to the one wearing them that he is not a free man, able to let his passions reign unbridled. The tzitzis remind him that he is a servant to a master. The fear of his master is upon him and his personal will immediately adjusts itself to that of his master.
Sometimes the desire for certain taavos can burn so fiercely that a person feels it’s a matter of life or death. Temptations at such a time make it seem literally impossible for him to control himself, but when a person lives with the knowledge that he is a servant, he feels in every fiber of his being that he is mishubad (beholden) to his master. This natural fear of his Master gives him the power to overcome his taavos and live as a proper eved Hashem.
Rav Chatzkel Levinstein cites a Medrash (Bamidbar Rabba 17:6) on the verses dealing with tzitzis: Once, a person was thrown into the water, and the captain of a ship cast out a rope to him, declaring: “Hold on to this rope and don’t let go. If you let go you’ll have no life.” So too Hashem tells us: If you cling to the mitzvos you will have life; otherwise not. “Hold fast to mussar, don’t let go of it, guard it because it is your life.”
In this Medrash, water is clearly understood as a mashal for all the materialistic elements of the world, each of which drag us deeper, in their own way, into a life of physicality. The rope is a mashal for tzitzis. Tzitzis, with their symbolic display of avdus, declare: “Remember your purpose in life, don’t stray from it. Every breath, every action, every thought, every fiber of your being should be activated by the knowledge that you are an eved Hashem.”
Rav Chatzkel explains that when the Medrash concludes that we should “hold fast to mussar,” the idea is that tzitzis themselves are a form of mussar. When we see them we are expected to derive the lesson said above, that we are servants of the King. The tzitzis that are before our eyes should help us internalize this lesson and make it part of us.
All who knew my dear friend Rav Yitzchak Geffner, zt”l, who was niftar this week after suffering from the machalah hanora’ah for close to ten years, were able to see this principle in action. Rav Geffner showed what it means to be a true eved Hashem. This was particularly apparent in the final period of his life when he was in great pain, the doctors could do little for him, and yet he kept to his rigorous schedule of Torah and avodah like the true adam gadol he was.
All who came into contact with him saw before their eyes a true servant of the King. Here was a man whose entire chayus stemmed from the Torah. Even after his physical body had all but left the world, his Torah study was still fueled by unknown reserves of energy. His bitachon in Hashem never wavered, and yiras Shamayim was palpable in all of his actions. Let us emulate his ways, for our own benefit and as an ilui for his neshama.
May we be zocheh to overcome the temptations of our hearts and eyes and become true avdei Hashem!