Parshas Beha’aloscha 5782
James Clear, author of the book, Atomic Habits, recalled a conversation he once had with an elite weightlifting coach. “What’s the difference between the best athletes and everyone else?” “It comes down to who can handle the boredom of training every day, doing the same lifts over and over and over.”
In the hierarchy of great life challenges to overcome, we rank “boredom” as pretty low. But as Clear points out, we probably shouldn’t.
וַיַּעַשׂ כֵּן אַהֲרֹן אֶל־מוּל פְּנֵי הַמְּנוֹרָה הֶעֱלָה נֵרֹתֶיהָ כַּאֲשֶׁר צִוָּה ה׳ אֶת־מֹשֶׁה׃
במדבר ח:ג
And so did Aharon do, he set up the lights towards the face of the menorah, just as Hashem had commanded Moshe.
Bamidbar 8:3
Why does the Torah assert that Aharon followed the instructions he received from Moshe? Rashi explains that this is in order to praise Aharon, emphasizing his willingness to comply with the directive to light the Menorah.
Which is odd sort of praise. Would we have expected Aharon to do otherwise? Is it so virtuous to simply follow orders, particularly when those orders originate from Hashem Himself?
Rav Moshe Shapiro explains by citing an odd turn of events in the first perek of Maseches Sotah. While the first number of mishnayos detail the laws of the Eishes Sotah—the woman suspected of carrying on with another man—an abrupt change than occurs and attention is turned to Shimshon.
שמשון הלך אחר עיניו לפיכך נקרו פלשתים את עיניו
סוטה פרק א משנה ח
Shimshon followed his eyes, and so the Phillistines gouged out his eyes.
Sotah, Chap. 1 Mishnah 8
Rav Shapiro suggests that this sudden about face from discussing Sotah actually tracks a famous teaching of Chazal as to the juxtaposition we find in last week’s parsha between the description of the Sotah and of the Nazir. The rabbis explain that one who witnesses all that happens to the Sotah will likely accept a vow of neziras upon himself, abstaining from wine in order that he not fall prey to the sort of licentiousness exhibited by the Sotah.
The mishnayos in Maseches Sotah follow the same arc: detailing what takes place with the Sotah, then pivoting to a discussion of the most famous Nazir who ever lived, Shimshon. And it is here that a subtle qualification is made regarding the virtue of using nezirus as a means of keeping Sotah-like behavior at arms length. Extreme steps in religious observance may well have their place, but only if supported by sound commitment to the halachic baseline.
Shimshon’s ultimate undoing was that he followed his eyes. No nazirite behavior, no limitations on alcohol, no commitment to growing one’s hair long or of staying away from corpses or cemeteries can take the place of guarding one’s eyes from tempting sights in maintaining spiritual health.
Perhaps it it is for this reason that what follows the discussion of Nezirus at the end of last week’s parsha is the record of all twelve nesi’im bringing precisely the same offering as one another to dedicate the Mishkan. It was the exact same donation, day in day out. No variation. No outdoing what had previously been done. No going above and beyond. No prohibition against wine. Or haircuts. Or cemeteries.
In a system of halacha that makes largely similar demands each and every day, finding novelty in the form of accepting new, strange mitzvos is compelling. We are seduced by the thrill of the different and exciting. And we can easily slip into the mistake of accepting new stringencies practices, or even a new religious identity. All without doing the hard work on the core of who and what we are. I’d rather adopt a shiny, new cause than just recommit to the same Shacharis, Mincha, and Maariv.
Which is what makes Aharon’s behavior so praiseworthy. His greatness is that he didn’t add. Didn’t attempt to do more. To “outdo” the mitzvos themselves. To find meaning in the same old same old. To see as fresh the same avodah performed every single day. To not be put off by the monotony of repetition. The same oil, the same wicks, the same menorah every day and not succumb to the need for “freshening it up” or adorning it with new bells and whistles, new ornamentation.
That is a profound accomplishment. It is the accomplishment of grit—or, in other words–of tolerating boredom. When things become mundane or monotonous, when the the thrill of novelty wears off, how do we act? Do we quickly move on, hoping the next project or program will be the panacea that finally animates us with never-ending excitement? Or do we buckle down and continue to set up and the light the exact same lamps, day after day.
Machiavelli said, “Men desire novelty to such an extent that those who are doing well wish for a change as much as those who are doing badly.” The itch to change, the desire for novelty is no indication that you’re on the wrong track. It’s only an indication that you’re human. Success comes not to those who are quickest to abandon ship and move on, but to those who can tolerate the inherent boredom in doing the work that matters most.