Imagine that I live in a small American town and I feel, for whatever reason, a particularly strong affinity for our local mayor. Naturally, I would like to present him with a gift as an expression of my feelings of friendship and respect, so I call a close confidant to ask what he thinks the mayor would enjoy. He tells me that the mayor has recently taken up playing guitar as a hobby. Without wasting a moment, I run to the nearest music shop and spend a large sum on a top-of-the-line guitar. After having it wrapped and crowned with a big red bow, I get in my car and drive to City Hall, where I wait a few minutes before being escorted to the mayor’s office to present him with my tribute. As I had hoped, our dear mayor is delighted with the gift. In fact, this was the exact model guitar he had always wanted!
Wind back the clock a few hundred years, and imagine I am living in England around the turn of the eighteenth century. This time, it is the king of England to whom I desire to express my friendship and reverence. After extensive research, I discover that the king has taken to playing the harp, so I save up for a few months and, when I have amassed a small fortune, I purchase the best harp money can buy. Next, I make an appointment to meet with the king in his magnificent castle, and a date is set for June 6th of next year. When the long-awaited day arrives, I travel to the royal palace where, in a magnificent ceremony, I present the king with this wonderful gift. Like the mayor in the first story, the king is entirely overjoyed.
Now, though these two accounts may seem quite similar, Rav Levi Yitzchak of Berditchov zy”a explains that there is a fundamental difference between them. Though both the small-town mayor and the king of England were pleased with the gifts they were given, the cause for the pleasure came from two entirely different places. Whereas the mayor rejoiced in the gift itself — in this case, a brand-new guitar — because he had wanted this guitar and would have purchased it himself had his personal budget allowed him, the king couldn’t care less about the harp with which he was presented. He had thirty different harps in the royal music room and the riches with which to purchase a thousand more if he so desired. The source of the king’s joy upon being given this gift was rather the fact that someone had the desire to give him something. What he was actually given was entirely inconsequential; it was only the will and desire behind the gift that truly pleased the king.
R’ Levi Yitzchak teaches that a similar concept applies to the avodah we offer each day to the Master of the world. Do you think Hashem needs our service? Do you think we are giving Him anything with our Torah learning and mitzvos that He couldn’t have otherwise had? Of course not. Hashem is perfect with all forms of perfection; He surely does not rely on the service of Man for anything. If so, the question arises: what is the source for the tremendous pleasure Hashem has when His precious children are serving Him properly? Why does He rejoice in each holy thought, word, and action offered up as a sacrifice in the fire and smoke of passion and enthusiasm by each member of Klal Yisrael?
The answer is that just as the king of England rejoiced not in the gift of the harp, but in the desire which motivated that gift, in the same way, the actual gift of our avodah is, so to speak, inconsequential to Hashem. Ratherm it is the desire behind each act of holiness that provides our Father in Heaven with such tremendous pride and joy.
In this week’s parshah, we learn about the process Aharon HaKohen underwent in consecrating the Levi’im to holy service. Explaining the Levi’im’s special role in the sacred avodah, the verse states, “Ki nisunim, nisunim heimah li — For given, given are they to me.” The holy Berditchover uses the above ideas to explain the seemingly redundant wording in this verse, the double term of “Nisunim, nisunim.”
Says the Kedushas Levi, in this verse, Hashem is saying, “The actual service the Levi’im will offer Me does not constitute a true ‘giving,’ for it is ultimately not of much consequence. However, the fact that they are ‘given to Me,’ and devoted to serving Me with the greatest passion and desire, that is considered a gift, a true offering. That is truly precious to Me. “Ki nisunim” — the true giving and the gift which the Levi’im offer Me, is “nisunim heimah li” — the fact that they are absolutely devoted to serving Me.
With this lesson, the Berditchover stresses that the most important element of avodas Hashem is the yearning, the longing, and the desire to connect to our Father in Heaven that must underlie each action of holiness.
Obviously, the only way to properly express this desire is within the framework of Halachah, as Chazal teach, “Hashem’s place in this world is only within the four amos of Halachah;” we must connect with Him in the exact way He desires to be accessed.
But as the Mesillas Yesharim writes, “However, you already know: that which is truly desirable in avodas Hashem is the desire of the heart and the longing of the soul.” Similarly, Rebbe Nachman of Breslov says, “The main thing is the desire!” And in the words of the holy Berditchover, “It emerges that the principle pleasure Hashem has [from our avodah] is that we are fulfilling His Will, that we desire to do the Will of our Creator.”
While it is true that the performance of a mitzvah without any intentions whatsoever still contains the power, on a certain level, to affect all the worlds and cause tremendous spiritual life-force to flow throughout the channels of creation, the Berditchover teaches that Hashem looks past it all, peering deep into the heart of the Jew to see what was really going on when he shook that lulav etc. Only when He finds that this Jew’s mitzvah was born of yearning and desire to fulfill the Will of his Creator, and, through it, to connect with Him in the deepest way, do the Heavens erupt with the greatest joy possible. Then does Hashem have the ultimate pleasure from His holy nation, saying about us: “Yisrael, in whom I take pride.”
This article was found in Nekuda Tova Issue 39.
