Today, we're going to tackle a classic Jewish conundrum:
Should we focus our efforts more on personal spiritual growth, or on inspiring others? In the Sefer Zeved Tov, written by Rav Zalman Zakz zt"l, an early 20th century Israeli scholar (published posthumously in 1996 by his children) points to a passuk in this week’s parsha that directs us to an answer.
Should we focus our efforts more on personal spiritual growth, or on inspiring others? In the Sefer Zeved Tov, written by Rav Zalman Zakz zt"l, an early 20th century Israeli scholar (published posthumously in 1996 by his children) points to a passuk in this week’s parsha that directs us to an answer.
(כח) הַנִּ֨סְתָּרֹ֔ת לַיהֹוָ֖ה אֱלֹהֵ֑ינוּ
וְהַנִּגְלֹ֞ת לָ֤ׄנׄוּׄ וּׄלְׄבָׄנֵ֙ׄיׄנׄוּ֙ׄ עַׄד־עוֹלָ֔ם לַעֲשׂ֕וֹת אֶת־כׇּל־דִּבְרֵ֖י הַתּוֹרָ֥ה הַזֹּֽאת׃ {ס}
(28) Concealed acts concern our God יהוה; but with overt acts, it is for us and our children ever to apply all the provisions of this Teaching.
Rav Zaks sees this passuk as being broken into two distinct parts: “Concealed acts” and “Overt acts”, and how we are to approach each one.
“Concealed acts” are acts that pertain to our personal relationship with God, like studying Jewish philosophy, meditating on Hashem, and becoming fluent in Torah. Regarding these acts the Torah says, “they concern our G-d”, they should be kept private and not broadcasted to the world.
“Overt acts”, on the other hand, refer to actions meant to inspire others, like teaching a child how to shake the Lulav or explaining the handwashing ritual before bread to a new learner. Regarding this type of action the Torah says, “it is for our children and to apply all the provisions of this teaching,” and one should be open and expressive in teaching it (but not insufferably so…)
Now although the passuk splits these two categories into two neat compartments, determining when to inspire yourself and when to inspire others, can often present itself as a confusing and delicate balance.
Some people have a naturally inhibited personality, and focus an exorbitant amount of their time on their own spiritual growth, but neglect sharing their acquired treasures with others.
On the other hand, there are people who become so busy with digging for the next nugget of wisdom to share, that they neglect forming their own meaningful relationship with Hashem.
I’d like to suggest that this balancing act is symbolized in the tradition to dip the apple in the honey on Rosh Hashana. An apple’s taste is on the inside, hiding behind the peel. This mirrors our "concealed acts," like developing a personal relationship with Hashem to form the core of our spiritual lives.
The honey, on the other hand, is tasty right out of the dish, its sweetness is out in the open. This represents our "overt acts," the mitzvos and behaviors we perform in the open.
So as we dip our apple in honey this Rosh Hashanah, let it serve as a reminder of the delicate balance we must strike in our religious lives, cultivating a rich inner life as sweet as the apple's flesh while simultaneously spreading sweetness in our community like honey.
Good Shabbos, Shana Tova, and Ksiva V’Chasima Tova!
“Concealed acts” are acts that pertain to our personal relationship with God, like studying Jewish philosophy, meditating on Hashem, and becoming fluent in Torah. Regarding these acts the Torah says, “they concern our G-d”, they should be kept private and not broadcasted to the world.
“Overt acts”, on the other hand, refer to actions meant to inspire others, like teaching a child how to shake the Lulav or explaining the handwashing ritual before bread to a new learner. Regarding this type of action the Torah says, “it is for our children and to apply all the provisions of this teaching,” and one should be open and expressive in teaching it (but not insufferably so…)
Now although the passuk splits these two categories into two neat compartments, determining when to inspire yourself and when to inspire others, can often present itself as a confusing and delicate balance.
Some people have a naturally inhibited personality, and focus an exorbitant amount of their time on their own spiritual growth, but neglect sharing their acquired treasures with others.
On the other hand, there are people who become so busy with digging for the next nugget of wisdom to share, that they neglect forming their own meaningful relationship with Hashem.
I’d like to suggest that this balancing act is symbolized in the tradition to dip the apple in the honey on Rosh Hashana. An apple’s taste is on the inside, hiding behind the peel. This mirrors our "concealed acts," like developing a personal relationship with Hashem to form the core of our spiritual lives.
The honey, on the other hand, is tasty right out of the dish, its sweetness is out in the open. This represents our "overt acts," the mitzvos and behaviors we perform in the open.
So as we dip our apple in honey this Rosh Hashanah, let it serve as a reminder of the delicate balance we must strike in our religious lives, cultivating a rich inner life as sweet as the apple's flesh while simultaneously spreading sweetness in our community like honey.
Good Shabbos, Shana Tova, and Ksiva V’Chasima Tova!
---
Endnote:
In the forward to the Zeved Tov, the authors children, they write that their father was a living example of this vort he wrote in Parshas Vayelech. (What are the chances!) I was curious to find out more about the author, Rav Zalman Zaks, and see if there were some notable anecdotes that "substantiate the claims" of his children. At the end of the sefer, the children wrote a biography about him, and I picked a few stories that relate to Rav Zaks' balance of his personal relationship with Hashem and also caring about and inspiring others.
Endnote:
In the forward to the Zeved Tov, the authors children, they write that their father was a living example of this vort he wrote in Parshas Vayelech. (What are the chances!) I was curious to find out more about the author, Rav Zalman Zaks, and see if there were some notable anecdotes that "substantiate the claims" of his children. At the end of the sefer, the children wrote a biography about him, and I picked a few stories that relate to Rav Zaks' balance of his personal relationship with Hashem and also caring about and inspiring others.
- First off, just a cute thing. Rav Zalman Zaks was born on 12 of Tishrei around the year 1900 ( 5660), and his bris was on the 4th day of Chol HaMoed Sukkos.
During World War 1 (1914-1918), the part of Israel where Rav Zaks was living was hit hard during the war, and many communities, including his own, suffered from hunger and thirst.
(https://www.britannica.com/place/Palestine/World-War-I-and-after)
However, Rav Zaks pushed himself to stay strong despite the dire circumstance, and continue to learn Torah with fervor in the Beis Medrash. Even when the fuel was depleted and there was no more light, he would join some other people on the stairs outside and read the texts in the moonlight.
But Rav Zaks didn't stop there. Although he and a few others were learning, what about the rest of the community? He gathered together some teenagers and made "groups" to be responsible for making sure the Beis Medrash was adequately lit and heated so that those people who wanted to go above and beyong to delve into the Torah can learn more comfortably.
(Perhaps he knew that to get them to learn, especially during such a dire time, may have been too ambitious. But Rav Zaks still was concerned about others, both the teens and the other people who were learning in the moonlight - to enhance their connection to Torah.)
(https://www.britannica.com/place/Palestine/World-War-I-and-after)
However, Rav Zaks pushed himself to stay strong despite the dire circumstance, and continue to learn Torah with fervor in the Beis Medrash. Even when the fuel was depleted and there was no more light, he would join some other people on the stairs outside and read the texts in the moonlight.
But Rav Zaks didn't stop there. Although he and a few others were learning, what about the rest of the community? He gathered together some teenagers and made "groups" to be responsible for making sure the Beis Medrash was adequately lit and heated so that those people who wanted to go above and beyong to delve into the Torah can learn more comfortably.
(Perhaps he knew that to get them to learn, especially during such a dire time, may have been too ambitious. But Rav Zaks still was concerned about others, both the teens and the other people who were learning in the moonlight - to enhance their connection to Torah.)
Another interesting story, this one was when he was in his older years, after he moved to Bnei Brak.
Rav Zaks used to daven Shacharis in a shul near his house and would stay to learn after davening for a while. A small Gemara shiur began after davening which he would sometimes listen into. Over time it became obvious to him that the maggid shiur wasn't as prepared as he should have been, and he was often getting stumped by the questions of the attendees. Although Rav Zaks usually knew the answers to these questions, it would be a tremendous embarrassment to answer the questions in front of the maggid shiur. What to do?
Rav Zaks thought of a plan. After the shiur, he went home and wrote all of the questions they asked in the shiur that day that the maggid shiur couldn't answer, and underneath it he wrote an answer, not in his own handwriting, but in ksav Rashi, so that he wouldn't be found out. After he finshed his "newsletter" he put in on the table where they would convene for the shiur. When the attendees saw it, they figured there was someone who must have also incidentally had these questions, and wrote some answers...
This is another example of Rav Zaks caring both about his own understanding of Torah and that of others, for without having put in the time and commitment himself to learn Torah with clarity, he would not have been able to help this awkward situation of the unprepared maggid shiur, no matter how altruistic he may have felt.
Rav Zaks used to daven Shacharis in a shul near his house and would stay to learn after davening for a while. A small Gemara shiur began after davening which he would sometimes listen into. Over time it became obvious to him that the maggid shiur wasn't as prepared as he should have been, and he was often getting stumped by the questions of the attendees. Although Rav Zaks usually knew the answers to these questions, it would be a tremendous embarrassment to answer the questions in front of the maggid shiur. What to do?
Rav Zaks thought of a plan. After the shiur, he went home and wrote all of the questions they asked in the shiur that day that the maggid shiur couldn't answer, and underneath it he wrote an answer, not in his own handwriting, but in ksav Rashi, so that he wouldn't be found out. After he finshed his "newsletter" he put in on the table where they would convene for the shiur. When the attendees saw it, they figured there was someone who must have also incidentally had these questions, and wrote some answers...
This is another example of Rav Zaks caring both about his own understanding of Torah and that of others, for without having put in the time and commitment himself to learn Torah with clarity, he would not have been able to help this awkward situation of the unprepared maggid shiur, no matter how altruistic he may have felt.