The Torah tells us זאת התורה אדם כי ימות באוהל. This pasuk tells us the halochoh of טומאת אוהל, that where there is a deceased person, anyone who enters the tent, or is in any way under the same roof as the corpse, becomes impure. To cleanse himself, the individual is required to be sprinkled with spring water mixed with ash from the פרה אדומה.
The Gemara (שבת פג:) famously interprets this pasuk in a different context, stating אין התורה מתקיימת אלא במי שממית עצמו עלי' the Torah can only be sustained by one who "kills" himself for it. This means that in order to be successful in Torah one must be selflessly devoted and sacrifice for it, forgoing comforts and giving up on luxuries. One may ask, how does the word באהל fit into this context, since the main emphasis seems to be on the words זאת התורה אדם כי ימות, that one should be wholly devoted to torah study?
Perhaps, this could be understood in the following manner. The pasuk states מה טובו אוהליך יעקב משכנותיך ישראל כנחלים נטיו... כאהלים נטע ה' [Bil'am exclaimed] how good are your tents Ya'akov your dwellings Yisrael. Like rivers drawn... Like tents erected by Hashem. Chazal (ברכות טז.) derive that by putting them closely together, the Torah is comparing the two. This signifies that just as a river purifies an impure person who immerses himself in it for tevillah, so too do the tents of Yaakov - the Beis Midrash - bring great merit to one who spends his time learning in it.
It is interesting to note that when referring to the Torah, the Gemara chooses the term tents, rather than learning. This tells us that it is not only the learning itself that brings blessing and merit to the individual, but also merely sitting in the Beis Midrash, being enveloped in its holy atmosphere and absorbing the pure air, that in itself has the power of showering spiritual bounty upon the person!
Absorbing the pure air
This point is clearly demonstrated by the following episode. Many years ago, a middle-aged man walked into the office of a Yeshivah and asked to enroll as a student. Noticing the surprised look on the clerk's face, the man related the following personal account.
"It was during the dark years of Communist oppression in Russia, I was sitting in a restaurant enjoying a meal with friends, when suddenly a mob of KGB officers burst in, immediately arresting all people sitting there. Subsequently, we were each forced to undergo a very thorough, torturous investigation process."
"Months later," continued the man, "we discovered the reason for our arrest. The KGB had gotten wind of an individual aspiring some form of rebellion, who just so happened to be in this restaurant. Thus, they decided to take action, arresting anyone who was then at the restaurant, out of fear that through sitting there, someone might have heard bad information against the Communists, which could likely impact him".
The Yid concluded, "I decided then and there, that I wanted to enroll in a Yeshiva, and would do whatever necessary to achieve that goal. For if the Communists had suspected that a single individual would be negatively influenced merely by being in the restaurant together with a rebel, all the more so could one be positively influenced and infused with an elevating, spiritual energy by just sitting in the Beis Midrash and absorbing its pure atmosphere." He concluded, "I might be too old to properly grasp what is being learnt, but I still have a lot to gain by being part of the environment of a holy yeshiva."
With this we could perhaps explain an interesting exchange between Tanoim, that we find in the Gemara (חגיגה ג.). The Gemara tells us that once, when Rabi Yehoshua met his students, he asked them to repeat something taught in the Beis Midrash. At first, they hesitated and requested instead that they wished to hear Torah from him. But then, upon his insistence, they related the following lesson that was taught by Rabi Elazar Ben Azaryah.
The impact of holy surroundings
The Torah tells us that during Sukkos of the year immediately following Shmittah, all Yidden - men, women and children - should gather at the Beis Hamikdosh. The king, standing on a platform erected especially for this event, read aloud, from a Torah scroll the entire sefer of Devarim. Rabi Elazar Ben Azariah posed the following question: Men come to learn, women come to listen, but why do children come? He answered, so that those who bring them should receive reward.
Upon hearing this Rabi Yehoshua asked his students why they did not immediately repeat this to him. "You had such a precious stone and you thought of keeping it from me?" he exclaimed elatedly. This seems perplexing. What did Rabi Yehoshua hear in the teaching of Rabi Elazar that made him so excited?
To help us understand this, let us examine the following. The children present at Hakheil don't seem to derive any benefit from being there, since they cannot grasp what is being taught at such a young age. If so, one may ask, why does the Torah command the parents to bring them along and even be rewarded for it, if the child cannot understand the teachings in any case?
The answer is, that although the child's mind may not actually be developed enough for him to comprehend the words of Torah, still, by simply being in so holy an environment, the spiritual impact on the child is immeasurable. In fact, it is so profound that it affords his parents to be rewarded for bringing him there.
Chazal tell us about Rabi Yehoshua, that his mother would often leave his carriage in the Beis Midrash so that his first influence would be the words of Torah spoken by the sages (ירושלמי יבמות פ"ב ה"ו).
Thus, when Rabi Yehoshua heard the aforementioned teaching, he became ecstatic. For, as his mother had done with him, it is this very teaching that emphasizes the value and significance of merely being present in the Beis Midrash.
Merely sitting in the Beis Midrash
Rav Efraim Padwa שליט"א from London, once made the following observation. The Torah tells us that though the deceased is only in one area, nevertheless the טומאה spreads throughout the entire room, affecting even an individual on the other side of the room with no physical contact. All the more so, when one learns Torah not only does he elevate his immediate surroundings, rather the area further afield is transformed and infused with spiritual energy as a result of his learning.
This is also alluded to, perhaps, in the Tefillah of רבי נחוניא בן הקנה, quoted in the Gemara (ברכות כח:): "מודה אני... ששמת חלקי מיושבי בית המדרש" I thank You Hashem that You placed my portion with those who sit in the Beis Midrash. One may notice that we are thanking Hashem here not only for the actual learning, but rather for sitting in the Beis Midrash. Why? For, indeed, even sitting in the Beis Midrash alone has a tremendous effect on a person.
Furthermore, the Mishnah in פרקי אבות tells us "הולך ואינו עושה שכר הליכה בידו" one who goes to the Beis Midrash is rewarded even if he does not actually learn. This begs explanation, for why should one be rewarded for coming to the Beis Midrash if he's not learning? Isn't the whole point of coming simply to learn? However, based upon the discussion above, we can understand that by merely sitting in the Beis Midrash and absorbing the holy air, a person is elevated to a level so great that he is worthy of being rewarded.
Rashi explains the Mishnah that although the person is not learning himself, he is listening to others' learning Torah and is rewarded for that.
The following story is a perfect example of this:
There was a yid who emerged from Soviet Russia after the Iron Curtain fell. He would often come to shul to hear the rabbi's evening shiur. However, it was apparent that he doesn't grasp the rabbi's teachings since many times it happened that he dosed off. His friends asked him "why do you bother coming to the lectures if you cannot understand the subject being discussed? Why trouble yourself to participate if you fall asleep?" His answer stunned them all. He recounted, "during my time of service in the Russian army, the officer in charge would frequently gather all the soldiers and go through the members of the Tsar and his family, reverently announcing each of their names. This was in order to bolster their image and instill in the soldiers a sense of awe and respect of the royal family. This routine only lasted several minutes, after which we were all sent back to complete our tasks for the day. I learned from this, the value of merely uttering the words of Torah. For if the leaders of the Russian army saw a purpose in pronouncing the names of the Tsar's family members alone, all the more so must there be great benefit in mouthing the holy words of Torah even if one may not grasp what he's saying. Therefore, although I don't always comprehend what the rabbi is teaching, I still come since there is much for me to gain by simply listening to the holy words being spoken. My mere presence pays respect for torah and has on me the right impact to live with the proper appreciation and awe for our holy torah".
This story once again highlights the value and significance of sitting in the Beis Midrash and listening to the words of Torah even if one doesn't fully comprehend that which is being taught. So, even if one is not fully up to concentrating on his learning, it is still worthwhile to make the effort to come. For simply basking in the holy atmosphere of Torah is extremely beneficial for the soul.
As much as we see the influence of being in close proximity to Torah, we should derive from this how uttering the actual words of Torah and grasping our learning, tremendously elevates and transforms the person.
May we all be זוכה to spend the better part of our lives in holy environs of Torah. שבתי בבית ה' כל ימי חיי!