Skip to main content

Thought for the Day: The Meaning of Life

The last mishna of the fourth perek of Avos ends with this very cheery thought. Don't think of the grave as sanctuary (from judgement), because the following is all by force:
Your Creation -- A malach came to you in the in the olam ha'neshamos and showed you the womb.  You went, "Eyew!  No way!".  The malach went "Way!", and shlepped you into the womb.
Being Born -- A malach came to tell you that it was time to leave the womb to enter the world.  You went, "Eyew!  No way!".  The malach went "Way!", and shlepped you out of the womb.
Living -- Every night your neshama goes back to shamayim to get refreshed.  In the morning a malach comes to tell you that is time to go back to all the shalom bayis, parnassa, gidel banim, etc issues. You go, "Eyew!  No way!".  The malach goes "Way!", and hauls you back.
Dying -- At the end of your life, a malach will come to tell you it is time to leave this world. You will go, "Eyew!  No way!".  The malach will go "Way!", and hauls you out.
Standing Judgement -- The malach will come to tell you that the King -- the King of kings -- HaKadosh Baruch Hu will see you now.  You will go, "Please... no."  The malach will gently but firmly lead you to that final judgement.
(Elucidated according to Rashi; my free translation.)

Somehow I don't think the tanna meant to liken our existence to that of a two year old being dragged kicking and screaming from world to world throughout eternity by his Tati sh'b'shamayim.  But if not, then what did he mean to portray?

The Maharal on Avos opens this up for us.  The forcing here is not actually "against our will", but to allow us to live up what we really want to do.  The Maharal makes a very similar observation by matan torah (in Ohr Chadash, his pirush on Purim).  HaShem there held Har Sinai over our heads like a barrel and told us, "Accept the Torah or here is your grave."  We really wanted to accept the Torah (we had already said na'aseh v'nishma), but the responsibility and potential pitfalls are terrifying.  The Maharal says that the risks have to be so terrifying precisely so that we will need to be forced.  That way we are both making a free choice that we really want it, but also knowing and feeling that our entire existence depends only and solely on HaShem.

And that is what the tanna wanted us to know: Life is scary, but it is also being very well managed.  There is one more thing, by putting us into this position, HaShem has ensured that we will be close to him at all times; because He loves us.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Thought for the Day: Love in the Time of Corona Virus/Anxiously Awaiting the Mashiach

Two scenarios: Scenario I: A young boy awakened in the middle of the night, placed in the back of vehicle, told not to make any noise, and the vehicle speeds off down the highway. Scenario II: Young boy playing in park goes to see firetruck, turns around to see scary man in angry pursuit, poised to attack. I experienced and lived through both of those scenarios. Terrifying, no? Actually, no; and my picture was never on a milk carton. Here's the context: Scenario I: We addressed both set of our grandparents as "grandma" and "grandpa". How did we distinguish? One set lived less than a half hour's drive; those were there "close grandma and grandpa". The other set lived five hour drive away; they were the "way far away grandma and grandpa". To make the trip the most pleasant for all of us, Dad would wake up my brother and I at 4:00AM, we'd groggily -- but with excitement! -- wander out and down to the garage where we'd crawl

Thought for the Day: אוושא מילתא Debases Yours Shabbos

My granddaughter came home with a list the girls and phone numbers in her first grade class.  It was cute because they had made it an arts and crafts project by pasting the list to piece of construction paper cut out to look like an old desk phone and a receiver attached by a pipe cleaner.  I realized, though, that the cuteness was entirely lost on her.  She, of course, has never seen a desk phone with a receiver.  When they pretend to talk on the phone, it is on any relatively flat, rectangular object they find.  (In fact, her 18 month old brother turns every  relatively flat, rectangular object into a phone and walks around babbling into it.  Not much different than the rest of us, except his train of thought is not interrupted by someone else babbling into his ear.) I was reminded of that when my chavrusa (who has children my grandchildrens age) and I were learning about אוושא מילתא.  It came up because of a quote from the Shulchan Aruch HaRav that referred to the noise of תקתוק

Thought for the Day: David HaMelech's Five Stages of Finding HaShem In the World

Many of us "sing" (once you have heard what I call carrying a tune, you'll question how I can, in good conscience, use that verb, even with the quotation marks) Eishes Chayil before the Friday night Shabbos meal.  We feel like we are singing the praises of our wives.  In fact, I have also been to chasunas where the chasson proudly (sometimes even tearfully) sings Eishes Chayil to his new eishes chayil.  Beautiful.  Also wrong.  (The sentiments, of course, are not wrong; just a misunderstanding of the intent of the author of these exalted words.) Chazal (TB Brachos, 10a) tell us that when Sholmo HaMelech wrote the words "She opens her mouth Mwith wisdom; the torah of kindness is on her tongue", that he was referring to his father, Dovid HaMelech, who (I am continuing to quote Chazal here) lived in five worlds and sang a song of praise [to each].  It seems to me that "world" here means a perception of reality.  Four times Dovid had to readjust his perc