Farmers in the Land of Israel are instructed by Torah to work their land for six
years and to let it lie fallow on the seventh. But when all the fields in a
country are permitted to lie fallow for an entire year, does the nation not
face a very real risk of famine?
In the following verses the Torah addresses this concern: "And if you say:
'What will I eat in the seventh year?' ... I will command my blessing upon
the sixth year and it will yield produce for a three year period."1
When the Torah offers an answer, it usually leaves us to deduce the question
for ourselves. In this case the Torah chooses to articulate the question. Is
there anything unique about this particular question?
Societal or Divine Morality
Society at large lives by a moral code. Governments legislate laws against
immoral acts such as murder and theft and encourage ethical behavior such as
charity and modesty. If you ask why murder is forbidden, the curt response would
probably be, "Because taking the life of another is just plain wrong."
If you persist and ask, "But why is it wrong?" the answer may very well be,
"Because it is!" If you further ask what makes it so, you can expect to hear
something like, "If you don't sense it intuitively, then there is no point in
trying to explain it to you."
This would indeed be the correct answer. Murder is wrong because society
intuitively senses the immoral nature of this act. Al Gore, former vice
president of the United States, recently commented that "democratic laws derive
their moral authority from the national consent of the people."
Somehow a Jew knows that moral authority is more profound than the mere
consent of a nation.
If you ask the Torah why murder is wrong the answer is, "It's one
of the Ten Commandments!" If you persist and ask why it is one of the Ten
Commandments, the answer is, "Do you expect to research and
understand the divine?"
Of course, the Jew also intuitively senses that murder is wrong. But to a Jew
there is more to it than mere intuition. If G-d ordained this prohibition as a
divine commandment, then it must be immoral for reasons beyond human intuition.
Beyond the Human Mind
Why does a Jew believe that divine commandments are beyond human intuition?
The mitzvot are generally divided into two categories: a) ethical
commandments that are easily understood, such as the prohibition of theft; b)
inexplicable decrees that defy human comprehension, such as the mitzvah of the
red heifer.
The ethical commandments and the inexplicable decrees enjoy a symbiotic
relationship, each affecting the way we view the other. The ethical commandments
demonstrate that it is possible to gain a semblance of understanding of G-d's
commandments. The decrees demonstrate that in the final analysis G-d's wisdom
exceeds ours.2
If we were only given the decrees, then our lack of understanding would have
alienated us from the mitzvot. We would be unable to internalize the
commandments and thus be prevented from developing an affinity and enthusiasm
for them.
On the other hand, if we were only given the ethical commandments, we would
have assumed that all divinity is within the grasp of human comprehension.
Naturally this would have caused us to dismiss all theistic notions that are
beyond our understanding.
The inexplicable decrees teach the Jew to view even the easily understood
mitzvot through the prism of divine wisdom, recognizing that even ethical
commandments such as the prohibition of murder are beyond our cognitive or
intuitive grasp.3
Two Questions, One Word
This is the meaning of the question asked by the wise son (as told in the
Passover haggadah): "What ('mah') are the...decrees and laws that G-d our
Lord has commanded you?"4 The Wise Son understands that
even the easily understood "laws" have dimensions that defy human comprehension,
and so he asks to understand the true meaning of all the mitzvah categories, not
only the decrees but the laws too.
We now return to the question posed in our original verse, "And if you shall
say: What ('mah') shall we eat in the seventh year?" The only
other questions that the Torah introduces in this manner are those of the four
sons of the haggadah. It is therefore possible to assume that this question is also
asked by one of the four sons. Which of the four sons asks this question?
This question is cited in the Torah only after all the laws of the Sabbatical
are first outlined. We thus deduce that this question is asked by the wise son,
who has studied the entire subject and who is left with but one question.
The wise son's questions are quoted twice in the Torah: "What is the
meaning?" and "What shall we eat?" Though the questions seem
unrelated, there is one word that connects them. The Hebrew word mah,
"what."
The Meaning of What
The Jewish people are accustomed to this word. We are forever asking: What
is the reason? What is the meaning? Like the wise son, we ask this
question of all commandments and all occurrences, even those we supposedly
understand. We realize that in the final analysis our comprehension doesn't
capture the divine thought process.
What is not only a question: it is also an answer. Because in the end the
question must be allowed to stand unanswered. We ask G-d for his true reason or
meaning, but we don't claim entitlement to his answer. We plumb the heavenly
secrets to the extent that the human mind permits, but the rest is humbly left
to G-d.
The word what thus demonstrates profound humility. We ask it not in
quarrel but in acceptance. We ask it not in arrogance but in submission. We ask
it not in confusion but in serene faith.
The words "What shall we eat in the seventh year" is not a
question as much as it is a statement. We don't know what the sabbatical
year will bring, but we are also not concerned about a famine. We humbly and
confidently place our trust in G-d.
We can now understand why the Torah uses the words "if you say...
" rather than "if you ask..." This is not a question as much as it is a
statement of fact. We don't know what we will eat but we trust that we will eat.
(It is interesting to note that the haggadah also uses the same expression: "The
wise son, what does he say?" rather than, "What does he ask?").
The Torah assures us that G-d will not remain indebted to us if we approach
this mitzvah with the humility prescribed by the word mah, "what." "He
will command his blessing upon the sixth year and it will yield enough produce
for all three years."5
LOGIN
ASK THE RABBI
