This means Aharon HaKohen's approach to the mitzvah of lighting the menorah (and for all mitzvos he performed) was חייך, that his life depended upon it. That made his mitzvos so precious.
And this should be our approach to Torah and mitzvos. When learning Torah, it is wrong to take the approach, "If I understand, it's good, and if I don't understand, it is also fine." And when it comes to mitzvah performance, it is also incorrect to say, "If I do the mitzvah, it's good, and if not, I am ok with that, too." Our approach to Torah and mitzvos should be חייך, with a feeling that our life depends on it. One should feel a great ache in his heart, "How can I not know this portion of Torah? How can I not perform the mitzvos?" This ache and yearning is precious to Hashem. And with this attitude, he should toil in Torah and avodas Hashem. With this approach, his avodah is precious to Hashem, and he will experience the immense joy and light of Hashem's service.
6. The Chofetz Chaim zt'l told the following mashal:
There was a rav who had a fantastic son. In that city, there lived a poor man who hoped that his daughter would marry the rav's son. He sent several shadchanim to speak with the rav. The rav didn’t take the suggestion seriously. He wanted his son to either marry into a wealthy family or that the father should be a talmid chacham. This poor man lacked both qualities.
The simple, poor man didn’t lose hope and kept sending shadchanim. Eventually, the matter was settled when the rav's son was engaged to someone else.
At the chasunah, the poor man sat at the head table. His friends asked him why he was sitting there. He replied, "I am almost the mechutan. I tried several times to be the rav’s mechutan." His friends laughed at him because wanting doesn’t make him a mechutan. The fact is that he wasn't chosen to be the mechutan.
Avodas Hashem, however, is an exception. In avodas Hashem, the most important part is to try. For trying itself one earns immense reward. As it states (Tehillim 105:3), 'ה מבקשי לב ישמח, “May the hearts of those who seek Hashem rejoice.” The goal is to be a 'ה מבקש, to seek Hashem, to strive to do His service. That is considered success, even if you don’t ultimately succeed.
The Ben Ish Chai (Niflaim Maasecha 124) told the following story:
"Tuvia the Judge" was revered and honored by many. All judicial matters of the country were settled according to his judgment. But he also had his share of enemies who tried to harm him.
Eventually, the king believed the slander of Tuvia’s enemies, and he decided to fire Tuvyah and punish him for his alleged crimes.
Tuvia caught on to what was about to happen, so he put on civilian clothing and escaped. People saw Tuvia passing through the dark streets that night but didn’t realize that he was the celebrated Tuvia, the most influential person in the country after the king just a few hours ago.
Tuvia left the city, traversed a desert, and reached a river. He stood there, contemplating: If he made it to the other side, he would be free, but how could he cross the river without a boat or raft? He didn’t know how to swim. He knew that he didn't have much time to figure this out. Soon the king will discover that Tuvia escaped and will pursue him. Tuvia stood on the riverside, at a lost of how to proceed.
Just then, a passing peasant recognized Tuvia, and Tuvia told him that he needed to cross the river. The villager was short and scrawny. Under regular circumstances, he wouldn’t consider swimming across the river while carrying a tall, heavyset man like Tuvia. But the villager realized that this was his opportunity to find favor with this great judge. He said, "Honored judge, hang on to my back. I will swim with you across the river."
When they were three quarters across the river, Tuvia said, "If Hashem will be kind to me and I become the judge again, I will reward you immensely."
"You mean you're not the grand judge anymore?"
"That's right,” Tuvia replied. “Corrupt people slandered me to the king and now I'm escaping judgment..."
The peasant dropped Tuvia in the water and said, "When you become judge, call me and I will pick you up," and the peasant swam back to shore alone.
People rebuked the peasant. "Since you brought Tuvia three quarters across the river, you should have brought him all the way."
The peasant replied, “I’m weak and feeble. I can't carry a heavy person like Tuvia. As long as I was imagining the great honor and wealth I would earn for helping Tuvia, I had strength. I almost didn’t feel his weight. But when Tuvia told me that he was escaping and that he couldn’t reward me, I suddenly felt his full weight and didn’t have strength to bring him to shore..."
The Ben Ish Chai told this story to emphasize the need to be cautious with our speech because so many troubles result from unwarranted and bad speech. If only Tuvia had remained silent, his life would have been saved.
This story also demonstrates what one can achieve with intense desire. When one wants something very much, he finds the strength that he generally doesn't have. Therefore, think about the reward you will get through avodas Hashem, the light and joy you will experience when you toil in avodas Hashem, and primarily, think about the nachas ruach you will create for Hashem, and you will be strong and accomplish things you generally can't do.
A story is told about a lively child who didn’t have patience to study Torah. The melamed brought the child to the Rav of the city and asked the Rav to influence the child to be more devoted and interested in learning Torah.
The Rav met the child and said, “I had a din Torah between a sefer Torah and a pair of shoes, and I want to hear your opinion. The shoes told the sefer Torah, "Why do we have such different fates? When the sofer finished making you, they placed a silver crown on your head and carried you to a beis medresh amidst dancing and joy. Whenever they take you out of the aron kodesh, people stand up for you and hug and kiss you. When you get worn out, you will have a levayah and be buried with honor. But I’m just a pair of shoes. People don’t respect me. They tread with me into the mud. I will be tossed into the trash when I'm worn out. Is it fair that we should have such opposite fates? I remember years ago when we both came from the skins of the same cow. Those days, we were raised in the same barn, ate the same fodder, and drank from the same trough. But a sofer bought you, turned your skins into parchment, and made you into a sefer Torah. At the same time, a shoemaker bought me and turned me into a pair of shoes. Why do we have such different fates? We used to be the same!"
The Rav asked the boy for his opinion. The boy sided with the shoes. It didn’t seem fair.
The Rav said it is possible to make a pair of shoes in a couple of hours, but many hours of hard labor are needed to make a sefer Torah. A sofer writes letter after letter until the entire sefer Torah is finished. Now, the boy agreed that the sefer Torah deserves more respect. So much toil was put into making it.
The Rav said, “My son, if you want people to honor and admire you, you must toil diligently. You must put in a lot of effort. Otherwise, you will be like a pair of shoes with minimal value.”
One of the gedolim of today told this story at a family simchah and said that he was that child in this story who didn’t want to learn Torah. The Rav told him about the "din Torah" to teach him that the crown of Torah is acquired with effort and toil. After this discussion, he began putting his efforts into Torah study.
Here is another mashal:
A man won the lottery. He hired a wagon driver and arrived at the office to pick up the many bags of gold that he had won. As they were traveling home, the coachman pulled over to the side of the road to rest. Soon, they were both sound asleep. They awoke and continued on their way, but the wagon driver said, "We were robbed. The money isn't in the wagon anymore."
"How do you know without checking?" the winner asked. He said, "It seems that you stole the money because otherwise, how would you know it was stolen without checking?”
The wagon driver explained that he didn’t steal the money. He has another sign to know that they were robbed. He explained: “The horses are sprinting. If the gold coins were still on the wagon, the horses wouldn’t be able to run like this. That’s how I know we were robbed."
This parable reminds us that when things go smoothly, there is no wealth. When things are difficult, when we struggle in our avodas Hashem, that’s when we carry and earn immense spiritual value.
