Introduction
We all desire. We want delicious food, physical comfort, social connection, material success, and much more. These natural drives are part of our humanity, and no one wants to kill them.
Simultaneously, we have spiritual drives; we long for something more than simple physical pleasure. Each of us has a soul that is an actual part of G-d and that inner G-dliness yearns for expression.
How can we navigate the tension between these two dimensions of our personalities? It would seem that indulging our physical wants will conflict with and perhaps compromise our spiritual growth. However, ignoring them makes us less of ourselves.
In the sichah to follow, the Rebbe addresses this fundamental struggle by exploring the Torah’s nuanced approach to personal boundaries. By examining the paradoxical nature of restrictions – when they liberate and when they constrain – he gives us guidelines to discover how to establish boundaries for our conduct. He teaches us to see the checks we institute for our conduct as not merely precautionary but as opportunities to harmonize our physical and spiritual natures. In this way, we can open our eyes to appreciating G-dliness even as we fully experience life in this world.
Safeguarding the Sacred
Establishing Boundaries, Protecting Holiness
1. The Talmud interprets the verse, “You shall safeguard My charge,” as a command to “Make a safeguard for My charge.” This command is the foundation for the decrees and ordinances the Rabbis established as precautionary fences and safeguards to prevent the violation of a prohibition. This command also obligates every Jew to set up personal fences and safeguards, refraining from even permitted matters to protect himself against performing a sin. As stated in texts of Mussar (ethical guidance), a person should shield himself by steering away from 100 gates of permitted matters to avoid entering even one gate of what is prohibited.
When Too Much Can Be Dangerous
2. There are those who err, arguing, “Why search for new stringencies?” Since we are commanded, “You shall not deviate from the word that [the Sages] tell you,” they are willing to accept the observance of the safeguards – the precautionary prohibitions to Scriptural Law – that our Rabbis in every generation established. However, they maintain that there is no need to be overly meticulous about observing the precise details of these restrictions. After all, we are speaking merely about Rabbinic Law. And certainly, there is no need to seek new stringencies. Indeed, even our Sages wondered, “Is not what the Torah has forbidden you sufficient?”
They bring further proof for their opinion from the words of the Talmud Yerushalmi, which relates that, in every person’s Heavenly judgment, he will have to give an accounting for any food that he saw and yet did not eat.
Furthermore – they argue – since fulfilling everything the Torah asks of us is very difficult, it is not desirable to add extra stringencies and practices so as to observe the mitzvos even more meticulously (hiddurim). On the contrary, this may lead to the very core being lost; imposing too many stringencies on a person may cause him to abandon the path of Torah entirely.
They try to substantiate this premise by explaining the sequence that led to the sin of the Tree of Knowledge, the root of all sins. In that instance, adding a prohibition that G-d did not command – expanding the prohibition, “Do not eat from it” to “Do not touch it” – brought about the sin.
Sanctifying the Permitted
3. This argument, however, is inherently flawed and can be rebutted as follows:
All the Torah’s directives “were given from one Shepherd.” The command, “You shall not deviate...” endows Rabbinic decrees with the same power and severity of Scriptural laws. The differences in practice between Scriptural laws and Rabbinic ordinances exist only because of a distinction the Torah itself instituted – that stringency is required regarding a doubt regarding a Scriptural law, while there is room for leniency regarding a Rabbinic law.
Similarly, regarding the obligation that each person has to establish boundaries for himself regarding indulgence in permitted matters – this, too, is included in the Scriptural command, “You shall safeguard My charge.”
The positive commandment hinted at by the verses, “You shall be holy” and, “Sanctify yourselves” – which imply, “Sanctify yourself in what is permitted to you” – obligates a person to act in a holy manner even when engaging in permitted matters. In addition, such conduct is also included in the command, “You shall safeguard My charge,” which is interpreted as, “Make a safeguard for My charge.”
Pre-Eden and Post-Eden: Where the Differences Lie
4. The proofs from the Talmud Yerushalmi and the sin of the Tree of Knowledge can be rebutted as follows: When Adam was in the Garden of Eden, he was a chariot for G-dliness and had no connection to evil. Proof of this is that the Garden of Eden cannot tolerate the existence of evil. Indeed, for that reason, he could not remain in the Garden of Eden after the sin.
Tzadikim, “the righteous,” are identified as chariots for G-d’s will. Now, a chariot does nothing other than follow the will of the charioteer. As such, in the Garden of Eden – and similarly, regarding totally righteous men in subsequent generations – fences and safeguards are unnecessary, because there was no concern that one would stumble. On the contrary, in such a state of holiness, not only are the fences and safeguards superfluous, they are detrimental.
When a person is no more than a chariot for G-dliness and all his actions are holy, whenever he engages with any matter, he elevates it, similar to the elevation of the food achieved by partaking of the sacrifices, eating on Shabbos, and the like. Conversely, by refraining from engaging with a matter, he prevents it from being elevated. Accordingly, before the sin, when Adam was in the Garden of Eden, additional stringencies were unnecessary. The same applies to totally righteous men. However, in situations where fences and safeguards are indeed necessary – i.e., in our present condition, when excessive indulgence in material matters can be spiritually harmful – they are beneficial.
(Adapted from a sichah delivered on Shabbos Parshas Shelach, 5716 [1956])
