The Struggle
Letter to the Editor
Odds and Ends
Words and Deeds in Arafat's PA
An Artist Off The Beaten Path
Profile: Rabbi Mendel Reitzes
Kitchen Values for Kids
Butter Spreads the Wrong 'Whey'
Kosher, Gourmet and Online
Psychology Q and A
The Small and the Infinite
Space Invader
Water: The Ultimate Nutrient
Men's Health Page
Reviews
Smile and Say 'Chees'
What Did I Do To Deserve This?


The Struggle

Rashi, the great Bible commentator, tells us that genuine Torah knowledge is acquired not by simple study, but through “ameilus” — struggle and toil. To truly master Torah, one must labor over it. Unfortunately, modern society has increasingly devalued ameilus — not only when it comes to Torah study, but in other matters as well.

We live in the “instant” age, and not only when it comes to mashed potatoes. The Talmud is accessible in beautiful English and Hebrew translation, in several versions. Innumerable English renditions have made Torah more easily accessible. And yes, there is room for such works. They allow students to absorb more material faster, and they open the sea of the Talmud to people from whom its beauty otherwise would remain obscured.

But they also extract a large price. When a capable yeshivah student utilizes these crutches rather than sweating over a difficult sugya (topic), the notion of ameilus has been compromised. Toil and struggle are part of the development process. For a flower to thrive, it must first push up through the dirt. Similarly, one does not conquer the sea of Torah by riding the crests; he must navigate the troughs.

In Europe, some towns had only a few copies of each Talmud tractate. Unable to run to the nearest bookshelf, students had to memorize its holy words. The result? It is said that during the Vilna Gaon’s time, 400 ba’alei batim (average Jews) in his city knew the Talmud by heart. Ameilus was a sine qua non of Torah scholarship. We cannot boast the same level of erudition today, because we no longer pay the price.

Our society as a whole is built on convenience. When I grew up, we did not have a microwave. This Pesach, when my family had to function without a microwave, I felt terribly inconvenienced. Today every sort of kosher food is a telephone call away. A refrigerator that will reorder by modem when you are low on products will soon be available. And now that I’ve discovered the world of cellular technology, stopping my car to use a pay phone seems antiquated. Why walk, when I can sit?

Today’s conveniences are wonderful; they improve our quality of life and they save time. But there is a downside; they also create within us the expectation of immediate results. And this instant gratification breeds lack of effort, appreciation and responsibility.

Individuals who have been successful in various endeavors report that the true victory lies not in the result they achieved, but in the struggle toward their finish line. Triumph often resides more in the challenge than in the actual attainment of the goal. Conversely, large-purse lottery winners often lose the money they have won, because they did not work for it.

The story is told of a successful businessman who decided to retire. His son, Joseph, had been a loafer all his life, but now wanted to assume control of the family business. The father, aware of his son’s nature, told him to first prove that he could earn money. “Bring me a thousand dollars that you’ve earned, and you can take over the company.”

Thrilled, the boy ran to his mother and asked to borrow $1,000. Accustomed to Joseph’s requests, she readily complied; a day later, the boy went to his father, handed him the money, and said, “Here are the thousand dollars that I’ve earned.” The father glared at Joseph and said, “You didn’t earn this money!” In the same breath he threw the bills toward the fireplace, where they quickly burned to a crisp.

“Now go earn the money,” the father commanded.

This time Joseph went to his best friend for a handout. He came back to his father several days later and gave him the money. “You didn’t earn this money,” scowled the father, as he again threw the bills into the fireplace.

Desperate, Joseph got a job. He sweated for three weeks, until he finally had earned the required sum. Joseph ran up to his father and said, “Dad, here is the money, and this time I really earned it!”

The father looked at his son and said, “You didn’t earn this money,” and threw it toward the fireplace. But this time Joseph leaped across the room toward the flying bills, grabbing them before they were burned up.

“Joseph,” said the father, finally smiling, “I can see that you truly earned this money. You can take over the family business.” As long as Joseph did not work for the money, it held no value for him, and so he made no effort to rescue it. Only when he truly had labored for his reward did it become valuable. And so it is with everything we do.

We received the Torah on Shavuos, fifty days after leaving Egypt. Our Sages tell us that in those fifty days, the Jewish people toiled to elevate themselves from the depths9 of impurity to awesome spiritual heights. Shavuos is an ideal time to reconsider the value of struggle, especially in our goal of mastering Torah.

Avraham M. Goldtein