Beyond Love: Advancing To Fear In Our Relationships Divine And Human

Parshas Bechukosai 5784

A young MBA fresh out of business school embarks on a career of finance, and he’s scared stiff. Will he or won’t he succeed? Does he have what it takes? The right instincts? The tenacity? 

He sets up a meeting with an uncle 20 years his senior for some advice and perspective on the sort of goals he should set for himself. 

“Well,” his uncle tells him, “You want to have made your first million about 10 years in. If you clinch that, it will open you up to visibility at your firm, and you’ll have sufficient capital for your own private investing. Grow your portfolio. Diversify. You should be at about $5-7 million 20 years from now. That’s where I am.”

“Wow. So twenty years. Then I can finally relax?”

“Relax?!” replies his uncle incredulously. “I’m more anxious now than ever!”

Parshas Bechukosai describes the relationship the Jewish People are to enjoy with Hashem in language that conveys more closeness and intimacy than perhaps any other in the entire Torah:

Rashi notes the unusual degree of closeness conveyed by the second pasuk, commenting that Hashem is speaking of Himself as walking among the people with such comfort and familiarity that they will not so much as tremble from being in His Presence. Which, Rashi explains, is precisely why Hashem then refers to Himself as “Elokim,” the name that connotes the attribute of judgment and fear. Lest you believe that the Jewish People may relate to Hashem only in fondness and affection, we are told that Hashem is “Elokim” nonetheless. Trembling, no. Fear, yes. 

What exactly does this mean? How are we to understand the transition away from fear of Hashem only to arrive at a place of fear once more?

The Nesivos Shalom explains based on a foundational concept propounded by his forebear, the first Slonimer Rebbe, the Yesod HaAvodah. With respect to interacting with Hashem out of yirah—fear—we tend to believe in a linear progression. One would initially observe the mitzvos out of fear of divine retribution, but the expectation is that he would advance from that position to one of genuine ahavah—love of Hashem and His Torah, and fulfill the mitzvos with that attitude instead.

But the Yesod HaAvodah explained that the relationship is actually cyclical, rather than linear. Fear begets love, but love begets fear. A different sort of fear, but fear nonetheless. Whereas the initial anxiety over punishment and damnation is hopefully replaced by love and affection, as that relationship continues to deepen, fear is supposed to come surging back. We are so taken with our Beloved, that we fear letting Him down. We fear distancing ourselves from Him. We fear being without Him. 

The seasoned veteran is gripped by a very different fear from the newly minted MBA. Whereas the latter is frightened of never making it, the former has tasted wealth, knows it well, and has a far more acute sense of what it would actually be like to live without it. He lives with more anxiety than ever because the luxury and accolades to which he has become accustomed he knows he cannot now live without.

When it comes to wealth, materialism, or status, one would be wise to enter the hamster wheel ever so cautiously, to avoid one’s very life and identity to become too firmly entwined with the successes enjoyed along the way. 

Relationships, on the other hand, are of a different character. Meaningful relationships—be they with G-d or man—should be thoroughly embraced. And doing so means allowing them, even directing them, to become characterized by the cycle of fear, love, and fear.

I may advance to a state of loving Hashem, but it is important to be mindful of the stage of fear that should come afterwards. I can appreciate all that Hashem has blessed me with and yet still slip into a state of complacency. I can be enamored with Hashem, reflect on His greatness, maintain gratitude to Him in my mind and heart, yet still slip away. It is important to fan the flames of love so that a bit of fear is re-introduced into the relationship. A degree of near-anxiety that I can still slip away. That for all my appreciation, the relationship can still fester if not actively maintained and cultivated.

And what is true of our relationship with Hashem is similarly true of our human relationships as well. In a good marriage, love grows and expands. Spouses come to know and understand one another better and better, and there is an ever increasing body of work to be grateful to one another for. And yet with all that love and appreciation, the relationship can still stagnate and backslide. Gestures of affection can grind to a halt, outward expressions of interest and gratitude can evaporate. We can even come to be dismissive of certain actions as the kind of things that newlyweds do, but that are beneath the established veterans of marriage. 

Which is a pity. As a loving relationship advances, it should be met with a certain anxiety. Not the anxiety of the newly married, nervous that they won’t get this marriage thing right. But the anxiety of someone fully confident in their ability, yet worried they’ll forget to properly use that ability. Anxious that they begin to take for granted, even as they love. Nervous that they not do all they can to impress, even as they admire. Worried that they not sufficiently convey affection with their actions, even as it looms large in their minds. 

Consider for a moment the people you love the most. Has the relationship halted there, or has it advanced to something even more special? How do we advance beyond love and arrive at the top of the cycle of fear?