Parshas Ki Sisa 5781
I had barely had time to unpack, having arrived with my family in Toledo, Ohio, just a few weeks earlier. I found myself heading to a major interfaith event being held in the city where I—the newest clergy member in town—was asked to deliver the closing remarks. I’d never participated in anything of the sort before, but was glad to accept the offer and make the most of an opportunity to share a meaningful thought with people of varied faiths, and to make a Kiddush Hashem in the process. It was hard finding the right words. I needed something Jewish, but not too Jewish. After mulling over it a while, I now had a speech written out in my pocket that began with some surprising words, especially considering the venue.
“We need to forget about G-d.”
Hashem is ready to move on from the Chosen Nation following the sin of the Golden Calf. He is prepared to wipe out the entire People, save Moshe, and rebuild the nation from his stock alone. But Moshe will have none of it, and begs for mercy on the people’s behalf. Ultimately, Hashem relents and provides the people not only with expiation for this sin, but a winning formula to be used on future occasions as well. Hashem presents the 13 attributes of mercy to Moshe, instructing him to have the people use this script whenever they will seek atonement in the future. The Gemara relates:
אמר לו כל זמן שישראל חוטאין יעשו לפני כסדר הזה ואני מוחל להם
גמ׳ ראש השנה דף יז עמ׳ ב
He said to him, “Whenever Israel sins, they shall perform before me according to this arrangement, and I will forgive them.”
Rosh Hashana 17b
Easy-peasy. Sin, recite some magic words, and achieve forgiveness. I’ll take two, please.
Many point out (see, for instance, the comment of the Eitz Yosef in Sefer Ein Yaakov on the cited Gemara) that the Gemara does not state that the formula need only be recited in order to merit forgiveness. Rather, the formula must be performed. G-d’s attributes that He Himself highlights must serve as a model for developing our own personalities. It is not the robotic chanting of these middos, but the transformation of our own selves in G-d’s image that provides atonement for past errors.
The Midrash Yalkut Shimoni makes the point even more strongly:
מה המקום נקרא רחום וחנון שנאמר חנון ורחום ה’ אף אתה הוי חנון ועשה מתנת חנם לכל
ילקוט שמעוני פ׳ עקב
Just as the Omnipresent is called “merciful” and “gracious”, as it says, “Gracious and merciful is G-d,” so shall you be gracious and provide graciously to all others.
Yalkut Shimoni, Parshas Eikev
According to this articulation, we are not only meant to adopt similar traits to Hashem, but to personify those traits in the same manner that He does. We are to become merciful in the same way that Hashem is. We are to become kind and gracious in the same way that Hashem is so.
How do we do so? By forgetting about G-d.
We fall into the trap at times of being generous, kind, or loving, because, after all, these are mitzvos, and fulfilling mitzvos is Hashem’s will. But the Midrash would seem to direct us otherwise. When Hashem is kind, He does not do so because He is out to fulfill a mitzvah. Hashem acts with kindness because He embodies kindness. Hashem acts with mercy because He is merciful.
The Brisker Rav was once asked why, if Hashem created everything with a purpose, did Hashem create the propensity for kefirah, for heresy. He responded that we all need to be heretics—to forget about Hashem—when we do chessed. In that moment, we must respond out of love for the other, not out of religious duty. Removing Hashem from your mind may not feel very frum, but let’s remember that Hashem doesn’t think about Hashem when He’s being kind. We’re not meant to be more frum than Hashem.
Hashem never needs to look over His shoulder, making sure that the One Above is pleased, because He is the One Above. What remains is an act of kindness that is born out of nothing but concern for the person Hashem is acting towards. When we occupy our minds with earning browny points Upstairs for our chessed, we are not acting out of actual love for the other or forging our personalities into something truly G-d-like.
This was my message to the crowd at the interfaith gathering in Toledo. As soon as G-d enters the conversation, we’ll all be at each other’s throats about the right way to practice. But when it comes to kindness, G-d’s greatest will is that He actually be left out of the picture. Don’t be kind because G-d told you to do so; be kind because you’ve actually become like Him.