Commandments That a Person Treads Underfoot – Some Reflections (Column 235)
With God's help
Parashat Eikev opens as follows:
And it shall be, because you heed these ordinances and keep and perform them, that the Lord your God will keep for you the covenant and the kindness that He swore to your fathers. He will love you and bless you and multiply you; and He will bless the fruit of your womb and the fruit of your land—your grain, your wine, and your oil, the offspring of your cattle and the young of your flock—upon the land that He swore to your fathers to give you. Blessed shall you be above all peoples; there shall not be among you, male or female, anyone barren, nor among your cattle. And the Lord will remove from you every illness; none of the evil diseases of Egypt that you knew will He place upon you, but He will put them upon all your enemies. And you shall consume all the peoples whom the Lord your God is giving over to you; your eye shall not pity them, and you shall not worship their gods, for that would be a snare to you.
The Torah promises us an extraordinary reward if we heed God's voice. What are those things that will grant us this reward? Ostensibly, the observance of all the Torah's commandments. But Rashi here cites the Sages' midrash:
And it shall be, because you heed—if you heed the minor commandments that a person tramples under his heels.
That is, the Torah is speaking specifically about the light commandments. How did the midrash infer that this is what the Torah means? In Siftei Chachamim here, this is explained as follows:
That is to say: the word *eikev*, which has the sense of “because,” implies that it is certainly so that they will heed the commandments, as with Abraham, of whom it is written, “because Abraham obeyed My voice,” etc. There it refers to something definite, for Abraham did obey His voice and was willing to slaughter his son. So here too it would imply that it is definite that they will obey—yet we say, “Everything is in the hands of Heaven except the fear of Heaven.” Therefore he explained that *eikev* refers to the minor commandments, etc.—that is, those which are not important in a person’s eyes, so that one does not expect to receive great reward for them. Hence Rashi also says, “if [you heed] the minor commandments,” meaning that it is not a certainty. And because the meaning of *mishpatim* here is commandments in general, not specifically monetary laws, for those are not mentioned here, how could it say “these”? Therefore he substituted “commandments” for “mishpatim.” Re’em. Alternatively, the difficulty is that it should have said, “And it shall be, if you heed the ordinances,” as it says in Parashat Ki Tavo, “And it shall be, if you surely heed,” and “And it shall be, if you do not heed.” Rather, that is why it says *eikev*—meaning the minor commandments, etc.
The expression because you heed differs from if you heed. The word "if" is conditional: if you obey, such-and-such will happen, and if not, something else will happen. But because is a term of certainty: as a consequence of your obeying, you will receive this and that. Which things is it obvious to the Holy One that Israel will obey? The midrash claims that these are the light matters that a person treads underfoot. They are easy to do, and therefore it is expected that they will in fact be done.
The midrash is essentially saying that the light commandments were given to us in order to upgrade our lives: they are easy to perform, and a great gain comes with them. And indeed, unlike its way elsewhere, the Torah does not continue here to speak about what will happen if we do not obey. The condition here is not doubled, and therefore it seems that this is not really a condition. It looks like another hint that the text speaks of commandments that will certainly be carried out, and they are intended only to enhance our reward and benefit us.
And yet, this seems a forced interpretation. The reasonable and accepted explanation of this midrash is that it really is a condition, and the verses are meant to spur us not to neglect the light matters, and therefore they promise us reward. The homilists have elaborated on why specifically light commandments require encouragement, since one would think that those, of all things, are what a person is likely and expected to do. It seems that it is precisely because of their lightness that a person disparages them and treads on them with his heel. Even when we consider the meaning of the phrase tramples under his heels, it suggests a dimension of neglect as well (he tramples them underfoot and disdains them, and therefore does not observe them), and not only of ease (he treads on them with his heel because they are so easy, and therefore clearly does observe them). Rashi, too, was precise in his wording and added here the word "if," perhaps in order to say that this really is a condition, meaning that even the light commandments are not certain to be heeded and observed.[1]
What are light commandments?
What is the Torah concerned about? Why would a person tend not to observe the light ones? The concept of 'light commandments' can be understood in three ways: commandments that are easy to observe, commandments whose significance is not especially momentous, or commandments whose reward is not great. Clearly, ease of performance is not a reason not to observe them but, on the contrary, to observe them. Therefore it is likely that the midrash means light commandments in the sense of commandments of lesser significance. The third interpretation, which concerns reward, can fit either of the first two interpretations. The reward given for these commandments is not great either because their significance is not very great or because the effort involved in performing them is not great (the question is whether reward is granted according to the difficulty of observing the commandment or according to its importance). Therefore the Torah upgrades the reward in order to motivate us to observe them.
Now, in Yalkut Shimoni on this passage (and see also Tanchuma here), it says:
“And it shall be, because you heed” [7:12]—this is what Scripture says: “Why should I fear in days of evil, when the iniquity of my heels surrounds me?” David said: Master of the Universe, I am not afraid of the grave commandments in the Torah, because they are grave; rather, I am afraid because of the minor ones—perhaps I transgressed them because they are minor, though You said, “Be as careful with a minor commandment as with a grave one.” Therefore it is said, “And it shall be, because you heed.” David said before the Holy One, blessed be He: Master of the Universe, “Your servant too is careful with them; in keeping them there is great reward.” “How abundant is Your goodness”—this refers to the reward of the minor commandments. Thus Scripture says, “The path of life—lest you weigh it out”: do not calculate among the commandments of the Torah which has greater reward and do that one. “Her tracks wander, and you do not know”—the paths of Torah are shifting. Rabbi Aha said: To what may this be compared? To a king who had an orchard and brought laborers into it, but did not reveal to them the wages for its various plantings. For had he revealed it to them, they would see which planting paid more and plant only that, with the result that part of the orchard’s work would be neglected and part maintained. So too the Holy One, blessed be He, did not reveal the reward of the commandments [for had He revealed it, some commandments would be maintained and others neglected. Rabbi Aha said in the name of Rabbi Abba bar Kahana: the Holy One, blessed be He, concealed the reward for performing a commandment in this world] so that people would perform them wholeheartedly. Rabbi Shimon ben Yoḥai taught: The Holy One, blessed be He, revealed the reward of two commandments—a light one among the lightest and a grave one among the gravest. The light one among the lightest: “You shall surely send away the mother, and the young you may take for yourself, so that it may be well with you and you may prolong your days.” The grave one among the gravest: “Honor your father and your mother, so that your days may be prolonged.” Yet their reward in this world is the same. If so, if regarding something that is merely repayment of a debt it is written “prolongation of days,” then regarding something that involves financial loss and risk to life, how much more so. And just as its reward is great, so too its punishment is great, as it says: “An eye that mocks a father and scorns the obedience due a mother—the ravens of the valley shall gouge it out, and the young eagles shall eat it.” The Holy One, blessed be He, said: Let the raven, which is cruel to its young, come and peck them out and not benefit from them; and let the eagle, which is merciful to its young, come and benefit from them.
The midrash speaks of reward as the measure of a commandment's lightness. Beyond that, it is stated here that a person may consider not performing a light commandment, and it seems that this could be either because it carries little reward or more generally because it is not all that important. As noted, ease of performance does not seem in itself to be a reason not to perform a commandment; if anything, the opposite. Still, if ease of performance leads to meager reward, then perhaps there is a reason here not to observe it.
Usually there is a connection between these two parameters: commandments that do not carry great significance are generally easy to perform, whereas commandments that bring about a greater rectification are generally harder to perform.[2] And indeed, two examples are cited at the end of the midrash: sending away the mother bird and honoring father and mother, where the former is described as the lightest of the light and the latter as the gravest of the grave. It seems quite clear that in the comparison between light and grave the intent here is their intrinsic importance (honoring parents is a more significant commandment), but at the same time it is also clear that there is a difference between them in difficulty of performance (honoring parents is much harder). Yet even so, their reward in this world is equal (and perhaps there will be supplements in the World to Come).
A note on the meaning of the system of commandments
Even the very fact that the Torah wants the light commandments to be observed requires clarification. On a simple reading, it seems that there is here a conception according to which the system of commandments is a whole, all of which is important. The Torah does not want us to focus only on part of it, even if those are the important commandments.
Just to sharpen the novelty of this point, I will cite here Maimonides in his Commentary on the Mishnah on Makkot, ch. 3 mishnah 17, where he writes:
One of the fundamental principles of faith in the Torah is that when a person fulfills one commandment from among the 613 commandments properly and fittingly, without associating with the intention of the commandment any other motive that is not part of the commandment [such as honor or reward], but rather fulfills the commandment out of love, as I have explained, he thereby merits eternal life. This is what Rabbi Hanania meant: since the commandments are so numerous, it is impossible that in the course of his life a person will not perform at least one of them in its proper form and in complete perfection, and by performing that commandment his soul will live through that act. We learn this principle from what Rabbi Hanina ben Teradyon asked Rabbi Yosei: “What is my portion in the World to Come?” He answered him: “What deed came your way?”—that is, was there a commandment that you performed properly? He replied that a case of charity had come to him in a completely ideal manner, and through it he merited the life of the World to Come..
There is a great novelty in his words: a person can focus on one commandment alone, in all its details, throughout his life, and thereby merit life in the World to Come. This implies that that is enough, and that one can exempt oneself from all the others.[3] Ostensibly, our midrash presents the opposite conception, according to which it is important to observe all the commandments, including the lightest among them. The Torah takes the trouble to motivate us not to focus on the grave ones, and from this it is clear that it is not right to focus on partial observance at all. Every commandment repairs something, light or grave, and it is important that everything be repaired.
The matter resembles the allocation of resources in a society or a state. At first glance, one might have thought of an approach that allocates all resources to the important goals (saving lives—medicine and security), and only if those are completely covered can one also allocate to culture, sports, and the like. So too in managing a family budget. But nowhere is this done that way. It is important to advance on all fronts, not only the important ones. I once cited in this connection the Chinese parable about a poor man who received two pennies and bought a slice of bread and a flower. When he was asked why he had not bought two slices of bread, he answered that the bread was in order to live, and the flower was so that there would be something to live for. Of course, this is not entirely parallel to the relation between light and grave commandments (but perhaps to the relation between basic matters and non-basic ones. See more on this below).
With some strain, one might perhaps say that according to Maimonides the Torah here is not arguing against someone who devotes all his time to honoring parents or to kindness, but against those who simply ignore the light commandments, not necessarily for the sake of the grave ones. They do the grave ones when the occasion arises, but they treat the light ones with contempt because they are not important and do not bring much reward. But even so, according to Maimonides, as long as one does that one commandment in all its details, even if it is a light one, that suffices. Put differently, perhaps the Torah here adds reward to light commandments so that a person who chooses one commandment will not focus specifically on the grave ones. Even if each individual focuses on one commandment, or on part of them, the community as a whole must observe the entirety of the commandments, including the light ones. If so, there still remains here a conception of all the commandments as a complete whole.
The relation between reward and punishment
At the end of the midrash cited above there appears the claim that just as the reward for the grave commandment is greater, so too its punishment is greater: among light commandments there is little reward for performance and a small punishment for neglect, whereas among grave commandments there is great reward for performance and great punishment for neglect. This also makes sense in terms of our portion. So that a person will not make the self-interested calculation of ignoring the light commandments and focusing only on the important ones, the Torah promises him great reward specifically for the light ones. This itself indicates that the lightness and importance of the commandment are measured through reward. Therefore, in order to motivate us to perform all the commandments, the Torah equalizes the reward of all of them (at least in this world. The verses below speak of entirely material reward). This is also what we find in the two examples cited in the midrash: there is a great difference in their importance, and the Torah equalizes the reward given for them (at least in this world).
If so, the initial situation was that there should have been a connection between the importance of a commandment and the size of its reward or punishment, but in order to prevent us from focusing only on the grave ones the Torah upgrades the reward (and apparently also the punishment) of the light commandments. However, regarding punishment, this does not seem to be so, for there is a difference in punishments between light and grave transgressions.[4] But that is only with regard to punishments of a religious court, whereas punishment for neglecting a positive commandment is not given by a religious court but by Heaven (to the extent that there is reward for a commandment in this world), and therefore it is possible that there is equalization in punishment for neglecting a positive commandment as well.
Is that really the situation?
But the proportion between reward and punishment is not so simple. 'Light commandments' in terms of their significance is still an expression that can be interpreted in two different ways. To explain this, let us consider Nachmanides' words in Parashat Yitro, where he discusses the relation between Remember and Observe with regard to Sabbath observance. In the course of his remarks he writes (Exodus 20:8):
It is also true that the attribute of “Remember” is alluded to in the positive commandments, and it proceeds from the attribute of love and corresponds to the attribute of mercy. For one who performs his master’s commandments is beloved by him, and his master has mercy on him. And the attribute of “Observe” is in the prohibitions; it corresponds to the attribute of judgment and proceeds from the attribute of fear. For one who refrains from doing what is evil in his master’s eyes fears him. Therefore a positive commandment is greater than a prohibition, just as love is greater than fear; for one who actively fulfills his master’s will with his body and his money is greater than one who merely refrains from doing what is evil in his eyes. That is why they said that a positive commandment comes and overrides a prohibition. And for this reason the punishment for prohibitions is greater, and formal penalties are administered for them, such as lashes and death, whereas no formal penalty at all is administered for positive commandments except in the case of rebels—for example, one who says, “I will not perform lulav,” “I will not perform tzitzit,” “I will not make a sukkah”—for the Sanhedrin would beat him until he accepted upon himself to act, or until his soul departed.
In this proposal, he writes that Remember is a positive commandment and Observe is a prohibition, and he explains the complex relation between them. On the one hand, the prohibition is more severe, and on the other hand the positive commandment is more important and greater. In this way he explains several contradictions in the relation between prohibition and positive commandment.[5]
In Meshekh Chokhmah (Deuteronomy 34:12) and in Sdei Chemed (if I remember correctly, under the entry 'a positive commandment overrides a prohibition') they explained his intention as meaning that violating a prohibition is more severe than neglecting a positive commandment, but fulfilling the positive commandment is more important and greater than refraining from violating a prohibition. In other words, the comparison we made above between the severity of punishment and the size of reward for light and grave commandments is incorrect. To be sure, it is not clear who here is light and who is grave—the prohibitions or the positive commandments—but it is clear that what has greater reward has lighter punishment, and what has lighter reward has greater punishment. When one thinks about it, the point seems simple. It is specifically the basic requirements, namely the prohibitions: one who violates them receives a great punishment, because this is basic and everyone is expected to guard himself and stand up to it. But precisely because of that, one who keeps them (that is, refrains from violating a prohibition) receives little reward, since this is elementary and there is nothing remarkable about it. By contrast, one who does not fulfill a positive commandment is admittedly not a great righteous person, but neither is he wicked, since a positive commandment is not basic but rather spiritual advancement beyond the minimum. Therefore its reward may be great (because he is a very righteous person), but the punishment of one who neglects it is light.
If so, even if the distinction between light and grave is on the plane of significance, that is, how meaningful the result is, one must still ask whether we are speaking about the result of transgression or of fulfillment. From the standpoint of transgression, the prohibition is the graver one; from the standpoint of fulfillment, the positive commandment is the more important. In fact, it is more correct to speak about a difference of levels: a basic level as opposed to a higher one. Refraining from a prohibition preserves the situation at the minimum, that is, it is a basic requirement. Therefore, one who does not violate it does not deserve a great reward. Fulfilling a positive commandment advances the world toward a better state, and therefore it is not basic and justifies a higher reward. And the reverse holds with respect to punishment.
In this sense, the light commandments can be interpreted as commandments that are not basic, that is, those that raise us to a higher level, and therefore they are in fact not required of everyone (but only of great righteous people). For fulfilling such commandments one may expect high reward, but neglecting them involves only light punishment. But one can also interpret them as basic commandments, in which case specifically their punishment is great and their reward smaller. The midrash speaks about the reward of the commandment as the criterion of its lightness, and therefore it is clear that it is dealing with basic commandments. In this sense, honoring parents is more basic than sending away the mother bird. True, the results are far more significant and important, but the demand is elementary.[6]
A different look at lightness: back to all the difficulties above
If indeed, when the midrash speaks of light commandments, it means basic commandments, then as we have seen the punishment for one who violates or neglects them is severe. Why is that itself not sufficient incentive to observe them? Why is an upgrading of the reward for one who does observe them also required?
It may be that the Torah does not want to motivate us to fulfill positive commandments through punishment but through reward. This is the crux of Nachmanides' words, who explains that the foundation of positive commandments is love—one who does his Master's commandments does so because of love for Him, and therefore here the main thing is reward and not punishment (and indeed there are no punishments by religious courts for neglecting a positive commandment). By contrast, with prohibitions, the dimension of punishment is primary rather than reward (and indeed a religious court gives no reward for a positive commandment or to one who refrained from a prohibition), because there we are speaking of observance out of fear. The Torah here is of course speaking about the reward for positive commandments, and therefore what is important here is the reward of the one who fulfills, not the punishment of the one who transgresses.
Now it is also clear why it is important to the Torah that we observe the 'light' commandments. Not necessarily because the entire system of commandments is important as a whole (I am reminding us of the Maimonides we saw), but perhaps because these are actually very important commandments. They are light in the sense of being basic, not in the sense of being unimportant. Such commandments are the basic conditions for the world's existence. True, one may ask why a person would tread such commandments underfoot. It may be because daily commandments such as honoring parents, despite their importance, do not enjoy the aura of mystical and esoteric commandments (such as, for example, setting aside the dough offering while murmuring incantations for the healing of the Jewish people).
It should be noted that 'light' commandments in this sense (that is, basic ones) are not necessarily easy to perform. On the contrary, very often they are quite difficult to fulfill. Therefore one can understand the reward promised in these verses not as an artificial upgrade intended to motivate us to observe the light commandments, as we understood at first, but as the reward that corresponds to the importance and effort involved in observing these commandments. The Torah is merely describing to us how important it is to persevere in the daily and basic commandments, because everything depends on them.
And yet all this still requires further thought.
[1] According to Siftei Chachamim, perhaps his intention is that although there are commandments that it should have been obvious Israel would observe because of their ease, nevertheless Everything is in the hands of Heaven except the fear of Heaven., and therefore there is no certainty that even these commandments will in fact be observed.
[2] Which reminds me of the well-known mathematical proposition that food in a kosher restaurant will never be tastier than food in a non-kosher restaurant. Proof: if there were tastier kosher food, the non-kosher restaurant would serve it. Not so, of course, with non-kosher food being tastier. And one can object, for price also enters into the equation (the gastronomic uncertainty principle: the product of kashrut, taste, and price is constant), but this is not the place to elaborate.
[3] However, see on this in Maharal's Tiferet Yisrael chapter 5 and in the lecture here. I recall an article by Moshe Halamish that discusses this determination of Maimonides at length, but I have not located it at present.
[4] However, see my article "'He gives the wicked evil according to his wickedness' — really?" where I cite a dispute among medieval authorities (Rishonim) on the question whether there is a direct relation between the severity of the transgression and the severity of the punishment, or whether the difference is one of kind. See also the seminar paper that appears on the site.
[5] However, the overriding of the prohibition by the positive commandment is hard to understand from his words, and we discussed this at length in the fifth book of the Talmudic Logic series, and in our article on the sixth root in the book Yishlach Sharashav.
[6] However, in the midrash I cited above it is clear that the commandment of honoring father and mother appears as a grave commandment and not a light one (in relation to sending away the mother bird). That is, that midrash did not understand the expression 'light commandments' in the sense of basic commandments but in the sense of less important commandments.
Discussion
That doesn’t sound plausible. Why would the everyday ones be called light? I’m arguing that the basic ones are light, and I only noted that some of the everyday ones are basic.
The unbearable lightness of existence (of the commandments)
I liked it 🙂
A few verses before the beginning of Parashat Eikev:
"When the Lord your God brings you into the land that you are entering to possess, and dislodges many nations before you—the Hittites and the Girgashites and the Amorites and the Canaanites and the Perizzites and the Hivites and the Jebusites, seven nations greater and mightier than you— {2} and the Lord your God delivers them over to you and you strike them down, you shall utterly destroy them; you shall make no covenant with them and show them no favor. {3} You shall not intermarry with them: your daughter you shall not give to his son, and his daughter you shall not take for your son. {4} For he will turn your son away from following Me, and they will serve other gods; then the anger of the Lord will blaze against you, and He will destroy you quickly. {5} But thus shall you do to them: you shall tear down their altars, smash their pillars, cut down their Asherim, and burn their graven images with fire. …… {11} Therefore you shall keep the commandment, and the statutes, and the ordinances that I command you this day, to do them. (PPP)"
"{12} And it shall be, because you heed these ordinances and keep and do them, that the Lord your God will keep with you the covenant and the lovingkindness that He swore to your fathers. {13} And He will love you and bless you ….. {17} If you should say in your heart: These nations are more numerous than I; how shall I be able to dispossess them? ….. {22} And the Lord your God will dislodge these nations before you little by little; you will not be able to make an end of them quickly, lest the beasts of the field become too numerous for you. ….."
If a passage hasn’t disappeared on us in the middle, then the plain meaning is that the beginning of Parashat Eikev refers to the verses that came before. And indeed, among the prohibitions there are several things that everyone treats lightly on the grounds that they aren’t important or critical.
That does not appear to be the intent of the midrash. Otherwise they would have mentioned the commandments that appeared there, whether light or not.
In the humanities (Bible, aggadah), before all the philosophical discussion about types of commandments and their importance, one would begin with a discussion of the biblical sources and the midrashic sources.
For example, one checks where the word eikev is first mentioned, and discovers that it is in the Binding of Isaac:
And the angel of the Lord called to Abraham a second time from heaven.
And said: By Myself I have sworn, says the Lord, because you have done this thing and have not withheld your son, your only one,
that I will surely bless you, and I will greatly multiply your seed like the stars of heaven and like the sand that is on the seashore, and your seed shall possess the gate of its enemies.
And through your seed shall all the nations of the earth bless themselves, *because you have obeyed My voice*.
One checks the chain of appearances of the root עקב in all its biblical occurrences and immediately discovers that there is a pairing there of two roots—עקב and hearing (sometimes keeping)—and always accompanied by blessing.
To Isaac before his descent to Gerar (Egypt):
And the Lord appeared to him and said: Do not go down to Egypt; dwell in the land of which I shall tell you.
Sojourn in this land, and I will be with you and bless you, for to you and to your seed I will give all these lands,
and I will establish the oath that I swore to Abraham your father.
And I will multiply your seed like the stars of heaven,
and I will give your seed all these lands, and through your seed shall all the nations of the earth bless themselves,
*because* Abraham *obeyed* My voice,
*and kept My charge, My commandments, My statutes, and My laws.*
In Parashat Eikev:
And it shall be, *because you heed* these ordinances and keep and do them,
and the Lord your God will *keep* for you the covenant and the lovingkindness that He swore to your fathers;
and He will love you and bless you and multiply you, and bless the fruit of your womb and the fruit of your soil, your grain and your wine and your oil, the offspring of your cattle and the young of your flock, on the land that He swore to your fathers to give you;
*Blessed* shall you be above all peoples; there shall not be among you male or female barren, nor among your cattle;
and the Lord will remove from you every sickness, and none of the evil diseases of Egypt that you knew will He lay upon you, but will put them upon all who hate you.
That is, all the sources are in fact engaging, literarily, with the Binding and with Abraham (even when this is said to Isaac!). Every writer or editor had the original source before him and related to it. He used key expressions from it. (See the emphasis.)
Of course this detail, in the passage about Isaac—My commandments, My laws, etc.—is what leads Hazal to say that the Patriarchs kept all 613 commandments (it seems to me the idea begins in the Bavli, but I haven’t checked).
From all this it is fairly clear that the link between the word eikev (“because”) and akev (“heel”) is a homiletical link (incidentally, the link in the original source is a simple one: eikev—in the wake of—one thing leading to another), but Hazal deliberately wanted to add the educational-religious insight of “even the light commandments”—and precisely in contrast to the Binding. For the Binding is the hardest commandment anyone was ever commanded. And that is where the root appears. Meaning: the homily—commandments that a person tramples with his heels—was meant to emphasize that not only heroic, dramatic commandments—difficult ones, or overly difficult ones—must be kept, but also the small and easy ones.
That’s it; from here one can continue philosophizing, but it seems to me the discussion is lacking if one does not bring the sequence of biblical occurrences.
Incidentally, דווקא the appearance in Psalms—which teaches about “together they are righteous”—could be a background to the homily, that is to say: not only the great ones, but also the small ones. They are all righteous together.
The judgments of the Lord are true; they are righteous altogether.
More desirable than gold, than much fine gold; sweeter also than honey and drippings of the comb.
Your servant too is warned by them; *in keeping them there is great reward*.
A small note:
"And indeed the Torah does not continue here, as is its way elsewhere, to speak about what will happen if we do not listen. The condition here is not doubled, and therefore it seems that this really is not a condition."
That is not correct. The Torah states this explicitly at the end of the section, and uses almost the very same words (8:19–20):
"And it shall be, if you do at all forget the Lord your God, and go after other gods, and serve them and bow down to them, I testify against you this day that you shall surely perish. Like the nations that the Lord causes to perish before you, so shall you perish, because you do not heed the voice of the Lord your God."
With God’s help, ערב ראש חודש אלול 5779
Indeed, the plain meaning of the verse is as ‘Peshita’ explained it to us: ‘because you will keep the ordinances mentioned above—the destruction of the idols and refraining from making a covenant and family ties with their worshipers—the Lord will keep for you the covenant and the lovingkindness that He swore to your fathers.’ And there is here a measure-for-measure principle: you will not make a covenant with idol worshipers, and correspondingly the Lord will keep for you the covenant that He made with your fathers.
The midrash notices the use of the unique word ‘eikev’ and explains that Scripture used it in order to emphasize the necessity of being careful even with commandments that appear light in a person’s eyes, so that he should not ‘trample them with his heels.’ The fear of ‘the iniquity of my heels,’ an iniquity that comes upon a person through lack of attention or lack of awareness of its severity, is expressed by the sons of Korah in Psalm 49: ‘Why should I fear in days of evil, when the iniquity of my heels surrounds me?’ The poet contrasts his fear of sin with the sinners ‘who trust in their wealth and boast in their great riches,’ who ‘are like beasts’ and do not fear the punishment that awaits them.
However, it may be said that the derash not only adds to the peshat but penetrates to its depth, for the prohibitions mentioned earlier—maintaining idolatry and making a covenant with its worshipers—may be regarded by a person as ‘light’ in relation to the prohibition of worshiping idols, saying: Heaven forbid, I am not worshiping the idol. I keep the statue only because of its beauty and artistic value; I make a covenant with the idol worshiper only for the sake of ‘the ways of peace’; I am sure that friendship and family ties with him will not bring me to draw close to idolatrous worship, etc.
To this argument the Torah responds that one must beware lest the evil inclination ‘bruise your heel,’ come upon you from behind without your noticing and entice you to violate the relatively light prohibitions, which are only the accessories of idolatry, and thus cause you to fall without your noticing and pull you toward the principal and more severe prohibition—actual idolatry. And as a consequence of your caution in maintaining every distance from idolatry, the Lord will keep for you the covenant of your fathers and do good to you.
With blessings, Shatzal Levinger
As for ‘sending away the mother bird,’ one may say that it is a kind of accessory to honoring father and mother. After all, you succeed in catching the mother because she clings to her young out of the maternal instinct implanted in her. A person who knows how to honor the maternal feeling of a bird and will not exploit her devotion to her offspring in order to catch her—will certainly know all the more so how to honor his parents who gave him life and appreciate their devotion toward him. Here too one may say that the ‘light’ commandment is the opening that paves the way to fulfilling the ‘grave’ commandment.
In paragraph 4, line 1
… to beware lest the evil inclination not ‘bruise your heel,’ …
There, line 2
… to violate the relatively light prohibitions, which are only ‘accessories of …
With God’s help, ערב שבת קודש, “and you shall be only joyful” 5779
Maimonides does not say that a person may focus on one commandment and thereby ‘exempt himself from the rest’ (as the blog author inferred). What Maimonides says is that in order to merit ‘life in the World to Come,’ one must reach the level of absolute lishmah—performing God’s commandments without any ulterior motive or expectation of reward and the like.
A person does not attain such a complete level of lishmah in most of his commandment observance. He can be perfectly fine and merit ‘a share in the World to Come,’ and even a very respectable ‘share,’ but the optimal state of ‘life in the World to Come’ is attained only through complete lishmah, pure altruism without the slightest trace of personal motive—something generally difficult to achieve.
And about this Maimonides says that one commandment in which a person succeeded in reaching the peak of complete lishmah is enough to bring him to the exalted level of ‘life in the World to Come.’
With blessings, Shatzal Levinger
On the distinction in Maimonides’ words between ‘a share in the World to Come’ and ‘life in the World to Come’—see the book by R. Daniel Reiser, Derekh Teshuvah Horit – Studies in Maimonides’ Laws of Repentance, Based on the Novellae of Rabbi Yonatan Rozin, published by Yad Harav Nissim, Jerusalem 5774, pp. 25–42.
It seems that the midrashim about light commandments (less important ones) that a person tramples with his heels are not dealing at all with commandments that are objectively light, but with commandments that in people’s eyes are light, though it is entirely possible that they are not light at all. So reward, or any other measure, is not a criterion for light commandments, but only examples of factors that lead people to think they are light. And the general message is that a person who exerts himself and is careful even with something that seems light in his eyes receives great reward for it. So of course one cannot learn from these midrashim what light commandments are in themselves—that is not the subject of the midrash at all.
Hello Hayuta.
First of all, these points are certainly interesting.
If we are speaking of the humanities (and my sensitive ear heard a tone of rebuke in your words), perhaps it is worth clarifying that when one writes a blog post, one is not writing a scholarly paper. That is true both in the natural sciences and in the humanities (to the extent that there are such things). A post is a note or notes on some topic, written quickly and in a way that is not fully binding. Especially here in my case, where I defined these as reflections on commandments that a person tramples with his heel. Moreover, the topic was not the word “eikev.” That was a prefatory note from the commentators on the passage. The discussion was about the nature and meaning of light commandments.
Incidentally, even in halakhah there are different kinds of works. Some require all the sources and comprehensive surveys, and some merely comment on a certain issue. Certainly when one is engaged in study rather than legal ruling, where recourse to the totality of sources and the context is not always obligatory. Even in a halakhic post (and there have been quite a few of those here), you generally will not find systematic and comprehensive surveys, but rather comments.
As for your actual point, as I said, it is certainly interesting. The claim that in all those places eikev appears adjacent to hearing or keeping only strengthens my point and the midrash here. That is precisely what I wrote. The connection to the Binding seems possible to me, though by no means necessary (or “scientific”). The same goes for Psalms. But it is certainly nice. Thanks.
I don’t see a connection. That is not a continuation of the section I was dealing with, but of the beginning of the chapter there.
Shatzal, in order to address this comment of yours I referred in the notes to sources that deal with it. In my opinion, the plain meaning of Maimonides is not as you say.
In the midrash I cited, it says that honoring parents is the grave one and sending away the mother bird is the light one. It is reasonable that this is not only our perspective but a substantive distinction. But one can always say that what seems light to us is not really so, and that’s that.
Your sensitive ear heard very well. Not a rebuke, Heaven forbid, but more a kind of ‘defense of the despised religion.’ The humanities are denigrated on your site morning and evening, and I wanted to note gently that here and there they do in fact have some not-bad tools—fairly orderly and systematic—for dealing with texts, biblical and aggadic, and thereby answering questions that arise in them.
The claim that a post on a website is not a scholarly article is not relevant here. After all, my own comment is not “scientific” either, but the result of a very quick look, in the way familiar to me from my experience as a humanities graduate, at how to examine the sort of questions you raised here. This is the routine and basic way I approach a verse or an aggadah; any other way seems to me less appropriate.
For comparison, imagine how my “comment” on physics would look to you, or even on Kant’s philosophy. Presumably you would dismiss it, and rightly so.
As stated, Heaven forbid that I am being dismissive, and philosophical reflection on the types of difficult and easy commandments certainly has its place and is important and interesting, but from my perspective it lacks a basis and a floor, and it lacks attentiveness to the primary sources and to what they are saying, as an infrastructure for this discussion.
[And no, I will not hereby reopen the endless discussion comparing an aggadic source to a halakhic one, between Torah in the object and in the person—a discussion that might perhaps have been called for, after all on Friday evening at twilight—and incidentally, I still owe you another search into the sources of the Yalkut Shimoni, and likewise.]
“Because Abraham obeyed My voice and kept My charge, My commandments, My statutes, and My laws.” Rashi explains “and kept My charge”: decrees made as a safeguard around the warnings in the Torah, such as secondary incest prohibitions and rabbinic restrictions for Shabbat. And “commandments”—these are rational commandments, while “statutes” are commandments accepted by hearing. “And it shall be, because you heed these ordinances and keep and do them.” Since mishpatim usually means rational commandments, Ramban explained: perhaps he is warning about light ordinances, such as monetary laws, that one should not treat them with contempt. The Siftei Chachamim disagrees, and writes that “ordinances” here means the commandments in general, and therefore Rashi interpreted it in accordance with Hazal: “if you heed the light commandments that a person tramples with his heels.” For in halakhah there is no such thing as something small and something great; rather, everything is important, because the finest details uphold the particulars, and the particulars uphold the principles, the light commandments uphold the grave commandments, and the totality of the commandments upholds the entire Torah.
Fine. To each his own habits. As far as I’m concerned, what I wrote is enough for my purposes, though of course your additions are interesting and add something as well.
Incidentally, my main claim against the “humanities” is against treating them as science. I have written more than once that there are certainly useful things to be learned from them (alongside a lot of nonsense too).
There is also in Psalm 119: “Teach me, O Lord, the way of Your statutes, and I will keep it to the end,” and a case without “keeping”: “I have inclined my heart to perform Your statutes forever, to the end.”
It seems to me this is about walking on a path. And “statutes” here means lines engraved in stone (carved in stone), like “if I have not established the laws of heaven and earth” (Jeremiah 33 or something like that). There it is speaking of the tracks of the stars’ movement in the heavens (you can see this there from the context. In general, ordinances and commandments too can speak of lines. “Precept upon precept, line upon line.”). And keeping—eikev—is being careful to walk on the path (the law engraved on the earth…the tracks on the earth) without deviating even a little. Somewhat similar to “heel to toe” in our language. Or keeping in every detail. Precision. This is admittedly a very raw insight, and one has to discuss what the connection is between it and eikev in the causal sense (or reward and punishment). Presumably an event that occurs “in the wake” of a previous event, like reward that comes after keeping a commandment. In the Bible front and back also refer to time—front is the past and back is the future (“declare the things to come hereafter”), which does not mean saying the alphabet backwards but prophesying future events. And akev is the back side of the foot (and the foot is used because we are talking about walking on a path). It is a way of saying what comes (in walking) “after” something.
It may be that in “in keeping them there is great reward” it means “as a consequence of keeping them, there is great reward.”
In fact my claim is exactly the opposite. Not “to each his own habits,” but: “this is how it is done”; that is precisely why this is indeed “the humanities.” In the sense that this is the way to examine Hazal’s method of work. This is how they worked: when they wrote what they wrote about a certain word, they “scanned” all its appearances in the Bible and in practice knew them by heart, and that is what they were responding to. This is the “scientific” way (it is called hermeneutics, interpretation) to understand what they wanted. That is what I tried to show, as one example among many that illustrates my argument (= aggadah is serious and systematic, and so is Scripture, and there are scholarly ways to study them).
I very much doubt that Hazal always worked this way, but I agree that it is certainly a useful tool. Still, it has nothing whatsoever to do with science.
Two more comments:
Other occurrences of “eikev” came up here that do not really fit the thesis (apropos science).
If that was the way the authors of this midrash were thinking here, it is puzzling to me that they resorted to the wordplay eikev–akev (= the back part of the foot), instead of (or at least in addition to) making a gezerah shavah or a verbal linkage from the word “eikev” in the other places (like in the Binding) to here.
Of course they did not always study that way; this is relatively new, from the last few decades with the birth of the “Science of Judaism” and the development of the academic research approach. As for occurrences that do not fit in, as also emerges from Eilon’s remarks, in my view that is not so terrible. I explained how I think the derash was constructed and on what basis. Its essence is reliance on the first occurrence in particular—the Binding. With that said, I did not understand your comment about gezerah shavah. This is not a halakhic derashah; it is an ideological one, no?
Aggadic midrash also uses gezerah shavah and certainly verbal linkage.
“Relatively new”? But you are claiming that Hazal learned this way.
In the background, of course, lies the question whether this is the intention of the verses or whether this is the preacher’s homiletical way of inserting his own message into the verses (which in my view is valueless). If it is merely his way of inserting messages, then I really see no importance in checking parallels. The parallels can provide a basis for the claim that this is indeed the interpretation (implicit) of the text itself.
Indeed, Hazal learned this way from then on, but their students over the years did not recognize this learning mechanism. The development of Talmudic and biblical scholarship exposed more clearly their methods of aggadic exposition. I really do not think this was the plain intention of the verse when it says “And it shall be, because you heed.” I have no doubt that this is an ideological derashah that they innovated on their own, and whose motivations and contextual anchoring in the verses I explained. In my view it is not at all valueless to understand the “engine of Hazal’s derashah”; it adds to our understanding of their words within their context. It is to enter their study hall and understand how the mechanism of derash works. In my eyes this has great value, and it is also truly fascinating.
[Incidentally, sometimes Hazal’s derashah is indeed not the plain meaning of the verse in its place, but is aimed at the plain meaning of the matter as a whole. A good example is the well-known derashah on ‘Adino ha-Ezni’ among David’s mighty men—that it is King David, who was gentle as a worm and hard as wood. Of course this is in no way the plain meaning of the verses listing David’s mighty men, but it is a kind of straightforward understanding of David’s personality as learned from the Bible as a whole.]
I did not understand which parallels you mean: parallels in the verses (for as stated, it is important to understand the biblical use of the word “eikev” as a basis for the derashah), or parallels in Yalkut Shimoni / the Bavli, etc.?
As I wrote, I am not convinced that Hazal always learned this way (I’m quite convinced they did not always). In any case, our discussion was about deciphering the preacher’s intentions, so it is not relevant that scholarship arrived at this late.
A general comment on your whole message. My contrast is not between derash and the plain meaning of the verse. We are not dealing here with peshat, and that is agreed upon. My contrast here is between derush and derash—that is, between inserting the preacher’s ideas into the verse and uncovering ideas that are embedded in the verses themselves (even if not in their plain meaning). The second has value, and there is value in understanding the tools by which the meaning is uncovered from the verses. The first has no value, because those are the preacher’s games, and there one should discuss the conclusion, not the way it is extracted from the verses, because it is not extracted from them.
I mean parallels in Scripture, several of which were brought up here in the comments.
As I wrote, it is puzzling to me that they would make a hidden gezerah shavah here without saying so, and instead play on words (eikev–akev). Such a claim requires good justification. In most places when they make a gezerah shavah, they say so.
As I said—I did not do especially deep research here. At the moment it does not seem to me that this is a matter of uncovering ideas embedded in the verses themselves (even if not in their plain meaning). In a simple sense, “if” you heed is a practical legal term. And “eikev” is a word in a higher register, more literary, and perhaps as you wrote also indicates a more continuous conclusion, as a direct practical consequence of the act and not merely as a condition that may or may not be fulfilled.
In my opinion there is value in understanding their methods of exposition as well; after all, we live by their words and learn their Torah. You determine that derashot they devised on their own have no value; I think they do. We are not dealing with halakhah, and indeed this is a kind of literary/ideological play. These are indeed fixed games of the expositors, and they have rules and patterns that enrich our learning from them. I agree that one should discuss the conclusion, and that is the main thing—in a class on Jewish thought (sorry), philosophy, etc. But it is not the main thing in a class on the methods of aggadah… and indeed the way it is derived from the verses is also illuminating, because in our case, for example, that very method sheds light on and sharpens the contrast between great commandments and small ones, the Binding versus things that a person tramples with his heels.
As for your puzzlement that they make a hidden gezerah shavah here without saying so, and instead play on words (eikev–akev): that is the whole point, the play and its deciphering. That is why this is not halakhah but aggadah—things that draw the heart, and so on. [And perhaps it was also obvious to them that everyone knew the biblical verses by heart, so the play would be more visible, clear, and enjoyable.]
As stated, I have no interest in games, even those of Hazal. But that is, of course, a question of fields of interest. Torah it certainly is not.
Aggadic midrash too sometimes uses gezerah shavah explicitly. But if this is mere homiletics and not derash, then indeed it is not a gezerah shavah but just a game, and perhaps that is why they did not bring it. But that itself says that there is no point or value whatsoever in resorting to all this background if it was not really at the basis of the derash and only served the preacher as a tool to play with.
Incidentally, regarding the intention of the verse in Deuteronomy, of course noticing that the author of Deuteronomy had the verses of Genesis before his eyes helps us understand the verse more broadly. He alludes to the Patriarchs, especially Abraham, to his commitment and his reward: “And it shall be, because you heed… and the Lord will keep for you the covenant and the lovingkindness.”
And as for games, the author of Psalms apparently disagrees with you. “Your Torah is my delight,” etc.
At least in the terminology of Hazal and the decisors, delight in Torah does not mean games but learning.
Paying a debt: I looked a bit for the sources of Yalkut Shimoni. The closest thing I found is in a statement of Resh Lakish brought by the sugya in Bavli Avodah Zarah 18b–19a:
They brought Rabbi Hanina ben Teradyon and said to him: Why are you engaged in Torah? He said to them: “As the Lord my God commanded me.” Immediately they decreed that he be burned, his wife executed, and his daughter made to sit in a brothel.
He was sentenced to burning because he would pronounce the Divine Name in its letters. But how did he do that? Did we not learn: These are those who have no share in the World to Come—one who says the Torah is not from Heaven, and one who says there is no resurrection of the dead in the Torah; Abba Shaul says: also one who pronounces the Divine Name as it is written! He did it for the sake of learning, as it was taught: “You shall not learn to do” — but you may learn in order to understand and to teach. Then why was he punished? Because he pronounced the Name in public.
And his wife was sentenced to execution because she did not protest him. From here they said: whoever has it in his power to protest and does not protest is punished for it.
And his daughter was sentenced to sit in a brothel, for Rabbi Yohanan said: Once his daughter was walking before the Roman nobles, and they said: How beautiful are this maiden’s steps. Immediately she became particular about her steps. And this is what Rabbi Shimon ben Lakish said: What is the meaning of that which is written, “The iniquity of my heels surrounds me”? Sins that a person tramples with his heels in this world surround him on the Day of Judgment.
The sugya speaks of three severe punishments for light transgressions, and explains them through Resh Lakish’s derashah on the verse in Psalms (I did not find that he said it elsewhere; this requires further inquiry). In any case, it seems that Rashi took from here his famous formulation on the verse. It is interesting, incidentally, that Maimonides in his commentary on the Mishnah that you cited above also speaks about Rabbi Hanina ben Teradyon, but specifically on the subject of good reward.
It may be that Hazal’s expression ‘commandments that a person tramples with his heel’ should be understood in the sense of ‘since he became accustomed to it’—that he has grown used to them: commandments done as ‘the commandment of men learned by rote,’ routinely and without attention; and likewise transgressions to which, because of habit, ‘it becomes to him as if permitted.’ Consistent doing (or non-doing) makes the matter worn and habitual. Therefore the Sages require us to remain fresh in the performance of the commandments.
With blessings, Shatz
Shatzal, on your approach it is not clear what “his heel” is doing here.
With God’s help, 3 Elul 5779
To Rabbi M. Abraham—greetings,
I answered your question in line 3. Even things that are in the category of ‘eikev,’ which become routine through their consistent, continual performance—those too, ‘you shall heed … and keep and do them.’ The emphasis is on ‘you shall heed.’ Not only ‘you shall keep and do’ in practice, but ‘you shall heed’ out of study and understanding, which give the act taste and meaning and remove them from the routine of ‘the commandment of men learned by rote.’
‘Eikev’ in the positive sense of ‘consistency’ appears in Psalm 119: “Teach me, O Lord, Your way, and I will keep it to the end,” and Meiri explained there: continually, consistently. And there too it seems that study and understanding are what bring about the consistent keeping of the commandment without laxity, and therefore the poet asks, “Teach me, O Lord, Your way,” so that “I will keep it to the end” may be fulfilled.
With blessings, Shatzal Levinger
That is homiletics. The midrash speaks about a heel (= the back of the foot).
With God’s help, 3 Elul 5779
To Rabbi M. Abraham—greetings,
Are ‘commandments that a person tramples with his heels’ commandments that a person fulfills with the back part of his foot? Clearly there is an image here. The ‘heel’ is the organ contrasted with the ‘head.’ The head is the beginning of the body, the place of thought and the most important place. By contrast, the ‘heel’ symbolizes both the end, and also that which comes ‘automatically,’ without thought and intention.
And so in the plain meaning of Scripture, ‘because you heed’ is the result, the end of heeding the commandments. And in its midrashic meaning, ‘commandments that a person tramples with his heels’ are commandments done without thought and reflection, things a person does ‘in the course of walking,’ without devoting thought to them. And here the midrash demands of us to heed and reflect, to devote full thought to all the commandments and do them as ‘head’ and not as ‘heel.’
With blessings, Shatz
Maybe.
With God’s help, 3 Elul 5779
A similar double meaning exists between the plain meaning of Scripture and the midrash in the verse “The reward of humility is fear of the Lord” (Proverbs 22), where the simple meaning of the word ‘eikev’ is: ‘result,’ and the sense of the verse is: following humility, one merits fear of the Lord, riches, life, and honor. But in the Jerusalem Talmud (Shabbat 10) the word ‘eikev’ was expounded in the sense of ‘secondary’: ‘What wisdom made a crown for its head [as written: “The beginning of wisdom is fear of the Lord”]—humility made a heel for its sole,’ meaning that fear is in the category of a ‘heel’ in relation to humility.
With blessings, Shatz
And as I mentioned in my comment above, ‘the derash adds to the peshat and penetrates to its depth,’ the plain meaning of Scripture too speaks about caution regarding things that are accessories relative to the prohibition of idolatry, for ‘And it shall be, because you heed these ordinances’ refers to the commands not to preserve idolatrous images, not to make a covenant, and not to maintain family ties with idol worshipers—prohibitions that are accessories relative to the primary prohibition of idolatry.
All the commenters here, including the rabbi author of the blog, may he live long, are twisting themselves into divine knots but not reaching the simple point the midrash is trying to indicate. And I, the lowly one, will try to suggest that there is no need for all the cumbersome sharp pilpul of the author… and that indeed the word eikev corresponds to “because Abraham obeyed My voice and kept My charge, My commandments, My statutes, and My laws,” as Hayuta said, may she live long, and the midrash indeed says that Abraham’s ten trials were difficult and not easy. But come, let us begin with the easiest of them, the one that a person tramples with his heels: the commandment “Arise, walk through the land, for I will give it to you.” Start with conquering the Land of Israel, which is a commandment that a person treads with his very feet, and it is the principal commandment with which the portions of Va’etchanan and Eikev are occupied; and then “the Lord will keep for you the lovingkindness and the oath that He swore to your fathers, and He will bless you and multiply you and bless the fruit of your womb and the fruit of your land, etc.”… And I will add further that the midrash regarding: “because Abraham obeyed My voice and kept My charge, My statutes, My commandments, and My laws” also intends this. For it says that from here we learn that Abraham kept the entire Torah, even eruvei tavshilin… and the intelligent reader understands, ostensibly, that this is utter nonsense and deeply rooted folly to say such a thing… rather, in the depth of the peshat, Abraham indeed fulfilled the entire Torah, even eruvei tavshilin, because he prepared the groundwork for the conquest of the Land of Israel, which is the purpose of fulfilling the commandments and the basis for fulfilling the commandments.
You could say that these are routine, everyday commandments, as opposed to rare ones.